Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Africa is giving nothing to anyone -- apart from AIDS

By Kevin Myers - The Irish Independent

Thursday July 10 2008

No. It will not do. Even as we see African states refusing to take action to restore something resembling civilisation in Zimbabwe, the begging bowl for Ethiopia is being passed around to us, yet again. It is nearly 25 years since Ethiopia's (and Bob Geldof's) famous Feed The World campaign, and in that time Ethiopia's population has grown from 33.5 million to 78 million today.

So why on earth should I do anything to encourage further catastrophic demographic growth in that country? Where is the logic? There is none. To be sure, there are two things saying that logic doesn't count.

One is my conscience, and the other is the picture, yet again, of another wide-eyed child, yet again, gazing, yet again, at the camera, which yet again, captures the tragedy of . . .

Sorry. My conscience has toured this territory on foot and financially. Unlike most of you, I have been to Ethiopia; like most of you, I have stumped up the loot to charities to stop starvation there. The wide-eyed boy-child we saved, 20 years or so ago, is now a priapic, Kalashnikov-bearing hearty, siring children whenever the whim takes him.

There is, no doubt a good argument why we should prolong this predatory and dysfunctional economic, social and sexual system; but I do not know what it is. There is, on the other hand, every reason not to write a column like this.

It will win no friends, and will provoke the self-righteous wrath of, well, the self-righteous, letter-writing wrathful, a species which never fails to contaminate almost every debate in Irish life with its sneers and its moral superiority. It will also probably enrage some of the finest men in Irish life, like John O'Shea, of Goal; and the Finucane brothers, men whom I admire enormously. So be it.

But, please, please, you self-righteously wrathful, spare me mention of our own Famine, with this or that lazy analogy. There is no comparison. Within 20 years of the Famine, the Irish population was down by 30pc. Over the equivalent period, thanks to western food, the Mercedes 10-wheel truck and the Lockheed Hercules, Ethiopia's has more than doubled.

Alas, that wretched country is not alone in its madness. Somewhere, over the rainbow, lies Somalia, another fine land of violent, Kalashnikov-toting, khat-chewing, girl-circumcising, permanently tumescent layabouts.

Indeed, we now have almost an entire continent of sexually hyperactive indigents, with tens of millions of people who only survive because of help from the outside world.

This dependency has not stimulated political prudence or commonsense. Indeed, voodoo idiocy seems to be in the ascendant, with the next president of South Africa being a firm believer in the efficacy of a little tap water on the post-coital penis as a sure preventative against infection. Needless to say, poverty, hunger and societal meltdown have not prevented idiotic wars involving Tigre, Uganda, Congo, Sudan, Somalia, Eritrea etcetera.

Broad brush-strokes, to be sure. But broad brush-strokes are often the way that history paints its gaudier, if more decisive, chapters. Japan, China, Russia, Korea, Poland, Germany, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia in the 20th century have endured worse broad brush-strokes than almost any part of Africa.

They are now -- one way or another -- virtually all giving aid to or investing in Africa, whereas Africa, with its vast savannahs and its lush pastures, is giving almost nothing to anyone, apart from AIDS.

Meanwhile, Africa's peoples are outstripping their resources, and causing catastrophic ecological degradation. By 2050, the population of Ethiopia will be 177 million: The equivalent of France, Germany and Benelux today, but located on the parched and increasingly protein-free wastelands of the Great Rift Valley.

So, how much sense does it make for us actively to increase the adult population of what is already a vastly over-populated, environmentally devastated and economically dependent country?

How much morality is there in saving an Ethiopian child from starvation today, for it to survive to a life of brutal circumcision, poverty, hunger, violence and sexual abuse, resulting in another half-dozen such wide-eyed children, with comparably jolly little lives ahead of them? Of course, it might make you feel better, which is a prime reason for so much charity. But that is not good enough.

For self-serving generosity has been one of the curses of Africa. It has sustained political systems which would otherwise have collapsed.

It prolonged the Eritrean-Ethiopian war by nearly a decade. It is inspiring Bill Gates' programme to rid the continent of malaria, when, in the almost complete absence of personal self-discipline, that disease is one of the most efficacious forms of population-control now operating.

If his programme is successful, tens of millions of children who would otherwise have died in infancy will survive to adulthood, he boasts. Oh good: then what?I know. Let them all come here. Yes, that's an idea.

kmyers@independent.ie

Posted by Lord Lunch, all a-tremble for the safety of Kevin Myers for audacitating to write such, er, such audacitable stuff, stuff that any prudent person of Euro stock in 2008 knows better than to think, much less write and publish. Spare a prayer, too, for The Irish Independent. Surely there will be sharp consequences for the newspaper because of its reckless daring to publish the audacious opinion of Mr. Myers. Tut.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

There's No Cure For England, Otherwise Known as Stupidity

LONDON, July 7 (UPI) -- Toddlers who say "yuck" when given flavorful foreign food may be exhibiting racist behavior, a British government-sponsored organization says.

The London-based National Children's Bureau released a 366-page guide counseling adults on recognizing racist behavior in young children.

The guide, titled 'Young Children and Racial Justice,' warns adults that babies must also be included in the effort to eliminate racism because they have the ability to "recognize different people in their lives."

The bureau says to be aware of children who "react negatively to a culinary tradition other than their own by saying 'yuck.'

"Racist incidents among children in early years settings tend to be around name-calling, casual thoughtless comments and peer group relationships," the guide says.

Staff members are advised not to ignore racist actions and to condemn them when they occur.

Posted by Lord Lunch, with regrets.
Hamsammich Castle, Worcestershiresauce, England

Friday, March 7, 2008

Holy Moo Cow!

Look at the time. Worse, look at the date! The date of the last post and the date of this, the most recent. From December 18 in the year of '07 'til today, March 7, 2008, has nothing happened to stir me from my slumbers? That's a rhetorical question of sorts, for I am out of sorts, having apparently slept through Christmas and the Super Bowl.

So, why now, I ask (I being the only one tuned in to this blog, the other person having long ago departed to a site more current, so it would not be proper to say 'Why now, you ask,') do I rub sand from mine my eyes and take quill in hand?

Good question, m' Lord, thanks for asking it.

Yew are most welcome.

(Get on with it! - ed.)

The answer is, er, for one thing, my man Bix has made me perhaps the most refreshing toddy ever have I had. And half way through the second serving of same, I am feeling verbal, mellowy verbal, not spit-bubble-blowing drunk verbal.

Not so verbal as to take up much more of your time, you being of course, the royal you, meaning me, since my reader abandoned moi whilst unsuspectingly I slept.

(DO get ON with whatever it is you're going on about! - ed.)

Right-ho. Sipping my toddy sans parasol capped swizzle stick, which kept poking me in the left eye before I had the sense to snap it in two and toss it towards the fireplace, where Bix shall have to put it after he picks it up off the stuffed Rhino-foot hassock where it landed, my aim being not what once it was...

(I give up --- And I'm Outta Here! - ed.)

Sipping my toddy, as I was saying, I revisted this page for the first time since December, saw the yawning gap betwix that date and this, and resolved to prevent said yawn from becoming wider.

Further, I was moved to memorialize my thoughts on Google ads. It was my impression that dear old Google possessed some mysterious machine, powered by moonbeams and pixie dust, that detected the nature of content on a web page and then sprinkled little ads on the page relevant to said content. But nowhere on the pages of this "Daily" Aspect are there any Google ads relevant to any content herein. At least there is no relevancy that I can devine. Perhaps a few more premium toddys from Bix will lubricate, er, illuminate my ability to find linkage.

Go I now into the night, praying I shall, from now on, more frequently return to these pages with inkpot and toddy glass brimming, and with quill poised and brain primed, to entertain, educate, and amaze all who venture here with incisive insights into the inner workings of this world of folly and fable.

Yours, etc., etc., etc.

Lord Lunch, Hamsammich Castle, Worcestershiresauce, England.

Oh, and P.S., please. Swizzle sticks. Parasol-topped swizzle sticks at that! They are for ditsy dainty ladies who sip thick, sticky, sweet, rainbow colored drinks on cruises, or under thatch-roofed poolside bars in exotic resorts. Certainly, toddy drinkers do not, and will not, be seen operating such sissy apparati. I have told Bix this, but it is, he insists, a rule of the Gentlemen's Gentlemen Union that drinks be served thus.

(Toddy drinkers, if you are unfortunate enough not to know, use the butt-end of their cigars to gently swizzle the ice around, if it is needed to be done. Or, absent a cigar, the right index finger serves just as well.)

Toodles pip!