ATLmalcontent

Never offend a Muslim

Is there anything more sickening than puny intellectuals who bow to extremist demands instead of defending free speech?

Cambridge University Press has just agreed to pull all unsold copies of the 2006 book, "Alms for Jihad: Charity and Terrorism in the Islamic World" after being threatened with legal repercussions. According to the Chronicle of Higher Education, this is the fourth such book on terrorism funding to be pursued by a libel action.

And the Cambridge publishers have just set a frightening precedent, says Rachel Ehrenfeld, author of one of the books being targeted.

Ms. Ehrenfeld characterized as "despicable" Cambridge's decision to settle this week, a move the press has defended as necessary and just. Ms. Ehrenfeld, who is a friend of Mr. Burr's [one of the authors of Alms for Jihad], said that, as she understands it, press officials "caved immediately."

"They didn't even consider the evidence that the authors had given them," she said. "They received a threatening letter, and they immediately caved in and said, Do whatever it takes. Pay them whatever they want. Ban the book, destroy the book, we don't want this lawsuit."

The first annual Ethan Hawke Award for dubious achievement in the field of literature

The first chapter begins with Diana's final hectic evening in Paris on August 30/31 1997, then darts back through a welter of Fayeds to the author's last sight of Diana at lunch in the Four Seasons in New York, in July: "The gently flushed skin of her face wasn't just peachy; it was softer than a child's velveteen rabbit."

--from Tina Brown's new book on Princess Diana

And now, a word from our standardbearer, excerpted from his novel, "Ash Wednesday":

I was driving a '69 Chevy Nova four-barrel with mag wheels and a dual exhaust. It's a kick-ass car. I took the muffler out so it sounds like a Harley. People love it. I was staring at myself through the window into the driver's-side mirror; I do that all the time. I'll stare into anything that reflects. That's not a flattering quality, and I wish I didn't do it, but I do. I'm vain as hell. It's revolting. Most of the time when I'm looking in the mirror, I'm checking to see if I'm still here or else I'm wishing I was somebody else, a Mexican bandito or somebody like that. I have a mustache. Most guys with mustaches look like fags, but I don't. I touch mine too much, though. I touch it all the time. I don't even know why I'm telling you about it now. I just stare at myself constantly and wish I didn't. It brings me absolutely no pleasure at all."

Reclaiming the "L word"

Two days ago I argued that the left should cleave to the epithet 'liberal', on account of the importance of the values liberalism has stood for historically. I did not then enter the reservation that I will enter now: which is that if the word is sometimes held in low esteem, part of the reason for this is the kind of 'liberalism' that will lose sight of the need to defend some crucial liberal value in the light of obfuscating considerations. You may be opposed to the honours system, or you may think that Rushdie wasn't worth a knighthood for literary or personal reasons; but ambiguity about how much respect is owed to the outrage over the award there should not be. None is.

Norm Geras refers to British author Will Self and academic Marcel Berlins, each of whom has apparently concluded that Muslim outrage transcends recognition of artistic valor (regardless of what one thinks of legitimizing the monarchy). Many "liberals" would agree. Call 'em what they really are: cowards. You know, the "C word."

An unapologetic apology I can defend

I despise the pseudo-mea culpa, the forced public apology that usually begins with, "I'm sorry if anyone was offended ..." In other words, go fuck yourself.

But this is an exception I can tolerate: "Obviously we are sorry if there are people who have taken very much to heart this honour, which is after all for a lifelong body of literary work."

I would've rather the British foreign secretary told Muslims offended by Salman Rushdie's impending knighthood to go fuck themselves, but I'm not one for diplomacy. And besides, Margaret Beckett was standing next to Iraq's foreign minister at the time.

Notice she didn't apologize for Rushdie's honor. So far, the Brits are maintaining a stiff upper spine:

Earlier, Home Secretary John Reid said Britain would not apologise for making the writer Sir Salman, despite the protests.

"We have very strong laws about promoting racial intolerance. It isn't a free-for-all. We've thought very carefully about it," Reid said.

"But we have a right to express opinions and a tolerance of other people's point of view, and we don't apologise for that."

An open letter to the Muslim world

Please, grow up and mind your own business.

The UK wants to honor an accomplished author who, 18 years ago, wrote a book you didn't like. So you respond with threats of violence, promising bloodshed unless the queen rescinds Salman Rushdie's knighthood.

Where do you come off making demands? We look the other way (regrettably) while you subjugate women, hang homosexuals and stone apostates. Yet you're offended by a cartoon. If you want to live in the 14th Century, go ahead. Just don't expect it of us.

And let's watch the irony:

In Pakistan, where effigies of the Queen and 59-year-old Rushdie were burned, a minister appeared to justify suicide bombings as a response to the knighthood.

This is an occasion for the world's 1.5 billion Muslims to look at the seriousness of this decision," said Mohammed Ijaz ul-Haq, Pakistan's religious affairs minister.

"The West is accusing Muslims of extremism and terrorism," he told his country's parliament.

"If someone exploded a bomb on his body he would be right to do so, unless the British government apologises and withdraws the 'sir' title."

So the West (unfairly?) accuses Muslims of extremism and terrorism -- and then you suggest someone strap a bomb to their body unless the Brits genuflect? Is that what passes for reason in Pakistan?

I'm tired of understanding the unconscionable. I'm told Islam is not a peaceful religion, but mounting evidence dictates otherwise. Extremists have taken control, and they show no signs of relenting.

(Already the Japanese language translator of "The Satanic Verses" has been stabbed to death. The Italian translator was seriously injured in a stabbing, while its Norwegian publisher survived an assassination attempt. All over a book. And the fatwa against Rushdie remains in place.) 

We make no apologies for choosing modernity. Most of us celebrate art, and our differences. We may protest, but we do so peacefully.

And, hopefully, we'll stand firm against would-be oppressors of free speech.

(To show your support for Sir Salman -- click here.)

Revisiting my inner homophobe

Why did it take me so long to discover Mark Simpson? Great thanks to RSL for the belated introduction.

Simpson is the editor of "Anti-Gay," an acerbic collection of essays that skewer the petty queer establishment. It's refreshing to discover a fellow traveler, having been castigated as a "self-hater"  more than once for daring to critique cheesy gay culture.

An excerpt from a Simpson-penned screed:

Isn't it just fabby to be gay? Gay is, after all, good, and everyone fortunate enough to be gay is, of course, glad -- when they're not too busy feeling proud. Which is perfectly understandable since gays, as we all know, have the best clubs, the best drugs, the best underwear shop and the best time. In fact, gays are so glad and proud that they have a big, sweaty street party every year to show the world just how glad and proud they are and what great underwear they have.

As The Times of London review for "Anti-Gay" summarized, "oppression and prejudice do not become legitimate simply because they happen to be practised by the previously oppressed."

Naturally, Simpson is reviled by the PQE. They don't take kindly to those who question the orthodoxy, which makes it even more fun for contrarians like myself. We should continue challenging their stranglehold on the conversation. They don't speak for me. Neither does Rosie nor the mopey guy from "Grey's Anatomy" nor whichever boy bander came out last week.

Neither do the money-grubbing, do-nothing indigation councils like the Human Rights Campaign. And neither do pandering celebrities like Cyndi Lauper (although being a fag hag can prolong one's career).

Why continue beating this drum? Selfishness, mainly -- I'd prefer a more interesting community. You know, diversity.

And I also remember being a teen, driving down to the Tara theater to see "Torch Song Trilogy." I was still coming to terms with my sexuality, but the movie depressed the fuck out of me ... literally.

I didn't want to live a life surrounded by the kind of melodramatic queens depicted in that flick. I had no interest in being a whiny, self-absorbed cliche. As a result I continued living a lie for a few more years. I blame Harvey Fierstein. I bet watching Sean Hayes has kept a few gay teens in the closet, too. 

So, once again, the mantra: We're here, we're queer and we're not all caricatures.

Won't someone please think about the children?

Gwinnett Superior Court Judge Ronnie Batchelor on Tuesday rejected a mother's plea to have the Harry Potter books removed from county school libraries.

This is the fifth time Laura Mallory has tried -- and failed -- to have the series of books removed. She's now contemplating a federal suit.

Site of the day

Judge a Book by its Cover, which includes this gem:

(Finally, an outlet for queer geeks)

No redemption for Tenet

Christopher Hitchens eviscerates the ex-CIA director's new book:

And now comes Tenet, the man who got everything wrong and who ran the agency that couldn't think straight, to ask us to sympathize with his moanings about "Iraq—who, me?"

A highly irritating expression in Washington has it that "hindsight is always 20-20." Would that it were so. History is not a matter of hindsight and is not, in fact, always written by the victors. In this case, a bogus history is being offered by a real loser whose hindsight is cockeyed and who had no foresight at all.

The time I met David Halberstam

I came across a handful of famous people during my brief stint as a valet parker. There was Evander Holyfield, a world class chump who didn't tip (and I was all prepared to keep quiet about the two women he was nuzzling, neither of whom was his wife). I was left to wonder if the joint Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes left in the ashtray of her sports car was meant as a gratuity. No such questions about former Hawks coach Lenny Wilkens, who placed a hundered dollar bill in my hand the day before Christmas Eve.

He might not have been as generous, but David Halberstam, who died yesterday, was just as classy. I think he was surprised that I recognized him, considering my line of work. He was even more surprised that I didn't recognize his dinner companion.

"Would you like to meet Bob Gibson?" he asked, not knowing I was a huge baseball fan. It was cordial and brief, but it meant a lot to me.

Halberstam was one of the best reporters of his generation, chronicling generals and athletes with equal aplomb. Fitting that he died on the job, on his way to an interview with famed New York Giants QB Y.A. Tittle.