Over at Samizdata, Perry de Havilland has a few thoughts on recent efforts by the Commission for Racial Equality to have Hergé’s Tintin in the Congo removed entirely from the shelves of British booksellers:

Tintin in the Congo has been moved to Borders’ adult graphic novel section and can be bought online here. Predictably, sales of the title have risen dramatically in the wake of the CRE’s protests. The book also comes with a warning that its contents include “bourgeois, paternalistic stereotypes of the period – an interpretation some readers may find offensive.” Readers will be thrilled to hear that Tintin in the Land of the Soviets is still available too. More on Tintin here.

I mention this because a few hours ago I caught part of the 1955 film The Dam Busters in which Richard Todd plays Wing Commander Guy Gibson, whose dog, a black labrador, is, unfortunately, called “Nigger”. Which raises the question of whether subsequent screenings will entail some discreet redubbing at the hands of the CRE.

A moving experience.

More here. (H/T, Vitruvius.)

Xenu is Loose! Scientology the musical. // Bees make vase. One vase, one week, 40,000 bees. // Hawk versus deer. // Dub versus cornstarch. (H/T, Chastity Darling) // Norman Geras on God and being eaten by aliens. // Jeff Goldstein on “hate speech” and illiberal liberals. // Terrorism as a bourgeois vice. // Iranian and Egyptian cartoons. Humour not entirely obvious. // Man robs bank disguised as tree. (H/T, Ace.) // Via Coconut Jam, bubblegum cards. All of them, just about. // Type the sky. (H/T, Coudal.) // State-of-the-art eyelash curler offers “ultimate precision.” // Kitchen blender blends phones, toys, cans of cheese. (H/T, Dr Westerhaus.) // Stupid movie physics. Cars burst into flames for no apparent reason. // Larry Niven on the problems of human-kryptonian intercourse. Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex. // New polymer for armoured, flexible suits. (H/T, Warren Ellis.) // Robotic toilet provides “family environment” and discourages “homosexual activity.” // Balloons + lawn chair = beer at 13,000 feet. (H/T, Ace.) // Cute and moody mini-drama by Isaak Fernandez Rodriguez. But how does it end? // Holy conceptual nightmare, Batman! The Riddler sings. (H/T, EQ-ualiser)

In the comments to this, a reader, Vitruvius, posted an extract from Alan Charles Kors’ 2003 essay, Can There Be An ‘After Socialism’? I think it’s worth sharing, as it touches on a number of recent comments here, most notably with regard to oppositional posturing, redefinitions of prejudice and the ideological denial of reality.

“Until Socialism… is confronted with its lived reality, the greatest atrocities of all recorded human life, we will not live ‘after Socialism.’ It will not happen. The pathology of Western intellectuals has committed them to an adversarial relationship with the culture – free markets and individual rights – that has produced the greatest alleviation of suffering; the greatest liberation from want, ignorance and superstition; and the greatest increase of bounty and opportunity in the history of all human life…

The cognitive behaviour of Western intellectuals faced with the accomplishments of their own society on the one hand, and with the Socialist ideal, and then the Socialist reality, on the other, takes one’s breath away. In the midst of unparalleled social mobility in the West, they cry ‘caste’. In a society of munificent goods and services, they cry either ‘poverty’ or ‘consumerism’. In a society of ever richer, more varied, more productive, more self-defined, and more satisfying lives, they cry ‘alienation’. In a society that has liberated women, racial minorities, religious minorities, and gays and lesbians to an extent that no one could have dreamed possible just fifty years ago, they cry ‘oppression’… 

In the names of fantasy worlds and mystical perfections, they have closed themselves to the Western, liberal miracle of individual rights, individual responsibility, merit, and human satisfaction. Like Marx, they put words like ‘liberty’ in quotation marks when these refer to the West….”

The full essay can be read here. Related, this and this. Let the rumblings begin. And, of course, feel free to make a donation.

Time for something boisterous and groovy, methinks. Here’s Mohammed Rafi’s Jaan Pehechan-Ho, from the 1965 film Gumnaam and which subsequently featured in Terry Zwigoff’s rather lovely Ghost World.

It’s the masks that do it. It’s like a swing party for off-duty superheroes. Mp3 here.