10 March 2013

Atheist in a Foxhole


This is my experience as a teenage Marine who was totally convinced that he would die in combat before the night was over while alone in a dark, wet foxhole and contemplating whether God(s) existed or not.  Late 1969, Hill 55 area, Quang Nam Province, Republic of Viet Nam. 
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A common allegation amongst god-fearing folks often reads like this:  “There are no atheists in the foxholes” – implying that the experience of fear when coming immediately close to near-certain death in combat will change all skeptics into true believers.  It implies that those who, in safer situations, may reject supernatural beliefs in deities, in beliefs in Heaven and Hell, and in Judgment Day, etc., will nevertheless change their tune when face to face with the immense looming probability of death, and they will opt for blind faith and plead to a god for deliverance.  Fear will turn them to faith.
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This is probably true for many.  But for me it has never been true, and any of these liars who claim that it is a universal truth where not in the same foxhole with me when such situations actually happened. 
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In combat zones, a sudden ambush (day or night) is electrifying beyond anything imaginable, but at those times questions of theology did not come up (at least to me), simply because you don’t have time to think about them.  I vividly remember one night, earlier in my tour (in the Hill 34 area), being pinned down by enemy automatic fire that came as close as six inches from my head – I still remember a buddy and me hugging the ground helplessly after we were caught by surprise, faces only a foot apart, while watching and hearing enemy tracer rounds whipping over each other’s heads.  At that time, and similar times of sudden danger, it never occurred to me to think about gods. 
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But it was much different when we had a long time to wait for near-certain death, to wait and to think, to endure those long, long stretches of time when the enemy was undoubtedly right there upon us but invisible in the dark and close by in the silence, lusting to kill your sorry soul.  When will they hit?  When will they overrun us?  How in the hell will we ever get out of this one alive?  Will I ever live to see another dawn?  Times like these – when one had time to think of looming death – were times of despair, but were sometimes also a chance for lucid philosophical reasoning on “Man and God and Law” (as Bob Dylan once put it).  There was one night that defines it and sums it all up for me. 
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We had been constantly attacked every night by enemy assaults, often under their mortar and rocket barrage.  This particular night was a moonless one, dark, windy and raining extremely hard – a “black rain” – with zero visibility.  Several of us were pulled out of our familiar trenches to march over the hill to reinforce a perimeter on a distant northern ridge.  The terrain was completely unknown to us, rocky and uneven, so we each grasped onto the fighting harness of the man in front of us and marched – tripping and stumbling – on into the blackness.  Eventually we were briefed by a Gunnery Sergeant, who gave us the sobering straight dope:  intelligence said that there was a division of NVA (the tough North Vietnamese Army) in the province, moving under the heavy weather and intent upon overrunning all nearby fire bases.  Gunnies do not get rattled easily, but this one was very concerned. 
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We reinforcements were split up and assigned to various posts.  I was assigned to two Marines on a position on the dark perimeter, and, as I was the one most ignorant of the terrain, they assigned me to man a crawl-hole position (a shallow foxhole bunker) to man the Claymore mine detonators.  The only arms we had were our M-16s and some hand grenades.  (I had no M-79 this night.) 
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The foxhole was a low shallow bunker that one man could crawl into, with very low sandbag walls front, left and right, and a corrugated steel roof with sandbags overhead.  Lying on my belly I could easily look up over the walls.  It was filled up with rainwater and too small for comfort.  In front of my face on the front wall were three Claymore detonators, but I wasn’t sure where the mines were positioned in the wire in front of me.  My two fellow Marines said that they would take up positions left and right of me behind rocks, and that was the last human contact I had.  The rest of the night was one of long solitary darkness – before the shit hit the fan. 
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I lay on my belly in the water of the crawl-hole and waited with zero vision ahead because of the constant black rain.  Then long after midnight it started to happen.  Between gusts of wind I heard unmistakable running foot treads of many men running from my left to my right in front of me – out somewhere invisible beyond 30 meters in front and outside the wire.  I heard many heavy feet on wet earth, heard someone shouting in Vietnamese (as if in urgent commands), and heard the clanking sounds of many alloy metal rifle ammo magazines (AK-47) – heavily laden troops with multiple bandoleers of ammo.  The group that first ran by my front was at least a couple of dozen, maybe a platoon.  Then silence.  And wait. 
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I did not detonate the Claymore mines, nor did any other foxholes along the line, because the enemy was not (to our knowledge) inside our wire yet.  Long-standing orders of the day (from CIC down) were for extreme fire-discipline, i.e., to minimize any actions that would give away our positions.  Do not fire without a definite target, do not give yourself away.  And Claymores have brilliant flashes. 
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Sometime later in that endless night, a second group of NVA troops (another platoon) ran heavily from my left to my right out in front of me with commanders yelling and bandoleers clanking (“ka-chunka-ka-chunka-chunka”).  Then it was black rain darkness, and again silence except for the wind and driving rain.  Where are they?  At what point in our perimeter will they attack?  We were waiting for them to overrun our positions and kill us all.  No target, no knowledge.  Silence.  Terror. 
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Because there was such a long wait time between events, I had time to think fully about the situation.  First, at this position on an isolated ridge, we were spread pathetically thin – and the enemy knew this – and in the black rain darkness they could cut through the wire and infiltrate our perimeter and kill all of us in this sector.  Their concentrated numbers, and our thin spread, put us in a losing position with no way out.  I could not imagine any scenario that would have me living to see dawn.  I would die this night – I accepted that as a complete certainty. 
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It was the long wait time that made it possible for me to be philosophical.  My mind was racing on three levels:  sensory alertness; tactical combat knowledge review; and philosophical thinking.
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On the first level, the sensory level, my eyes and ears were like radar, head moving back and forth trying to pick up sights (near impossible in the black rain) and sounds.  The wind and rain drowned out most sounds, and I felt cut off from all senses except lying alone in a hole filled with cold water.  I was hyper-alert and charged with adrenaline. 
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On the tactical level, I remembered everything taught in Infantry Training.  I fixed my bayonet, a pathetic six-inch thing for the M-16.  I also had a nicely balanced five-inch Pilot Survival Knife (which I had won in a drawing) which I stuck into a timber for quick reach.  I mentally rehearsed all the drills on clearing a jam in an M-16; deploying hand grenades; first-aid to stop bleeding; how to withstand the concussion of close explosions (hands tightly over ears, open mouth); and, most dreadful of all scenarios, hand-to-hand bayonet or knife fighting on slippery ground.  I thought that, although it was certain that I would die before dawn, I was grimly determined that I would fight tooth and nail to survive.  I will not go down without a fight! 
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On the philosophical level, consciousness was more unhurried, relaxed, and controlled, and because of the long silent dark wait after those first sounds of enemy movement, it was very thoroughly thought out. 
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My hybrid Zen/Hinayana Buddhist practice has always been an atheistic one with absolutely no supernatural beliefs such as reincarnation, deities, miracles, prayers, etc.  On this night it integrated my three consciousness levels of the sensory, the tactical, and the philosophical. 
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Philosophically, I am thinking:  I will die this night and never see another dawn.  (Meanwhile eyes and ears are like radar; tactical considerations are constantly available for review.)  Although I am not passively going out without a fight, a rational review of the situation points to my immediate death.  My life will end.  This is when people are said to analyze their beliefs about death. 
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What happens to a human when they die?  Is their conscious self (their “soul,” mind, esprit, or geist) extinguished, annihilated?  Or is it “reborn” somehow, surviving death in some mystical way such as “resurrection” or “reincarnation”?  Is theism true?  Are there gods?  Is there a Last Judgment?  Will I be sent to be tortured in Hell forever because I do not believe in a God or gods?  (I had been an atheist since I was 17.)  This seemed like a good time to review these issues, and adrenaline was making me wide awake. 
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Many versions of Pascal’s Wager came clearly into my consciousness during this night.  E.g., if I lack belief and it turns out that gods are a fantasy, then I lose nothing and have lived a life free of superstition.  But if I lack belief and it turns out that I’m wrong and that gods indeed do exist, then I am doomed to Hell, shit out of luck. 
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During this my last night alive, I looked carefully and fairly at all of the arguments I knew for the Existence of God, and I found them seriously lacking.  All of them.  As death threatened me with severe immediacy, I decided that I was indeed going to die this night as an atheist – an “atheist in a foxhole”, thus falsifying that particular theist lie.  This made me chuckle, while being fully aware of the dark irony of it.  But I would die with confidence in my own honest and sovereign judgment. 
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I also thought that, even if I was mistaken and if God really did exist to judge me, he had to recognize that my lack of belief was an honest judgment on my part, honestly reasoned according to the evidence I had seen, or not seen, and with my complete openness and objectivity.  (And I saw faith, believing without evidence, as an act of telling a lie.)  If God still considered my lack of belief to be a terrible sin, in spite of my honest inquiries, and if he still thought me worthy of Hell, then he was an unjust tyrant with no moral right to run a universe of rational beings.  I would repudiate such a being for his utter unfairness, injustice and barbaric cruelty. 
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After as honest and thorough a philosophical/ theological review as I could undertake, I felt quite tranquil about the notions of God, life after death, Hell, “eternal destinies”, etc. – i.e., I rejected them as fantasies and saw death as nothing but dreamless annihilation of self.  (No brain, no consciousness.)  I was not afraid of death as an atheist.  My coming death, at only 19 years of age, was certainly too soon.  I had many things that I wanted to do in life, but I did not fear death itself.  And of course I still was determined to fight tooth and nail to survive.  This line of cool thinking under the night’s pressure left me feeling very complete, whole, and integrated. 
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Then a horribly sickening thought came to me:  knowledge of the effect upon my family – my mother, father, and my 14-year-old sister – when news of my death reached them.  This horror made me so nauseated that I almost puked.  I sobbed at the thought of their anguish.  Just thinking about it now, over 40 years later, brings tears to my eyes.  I still remember that stab of helpless grief for the grief that they would feel. 
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As it happened, I obviously did survive that night – and “God” had nothing to do with it unless he shamelessly plays random favorites:  I may have lived, but six other young Marines died that night.  Kids who had families back home.  Not even mentioning the brave Vietnamese enemy who died that night, and their families. 
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The black rain was still pouring down and obscuring everything.  Then, suddenly all hell broke loose.  All at once it became evident that NVA infantry had broken through our perimeter about 75 meters to our right.  The NVA had sent sappers in quietly with wire cutters, followed by sappers who used poles and ropes to spread and separate the wire to make a hole big enough for infantry infiltration.  It was all under the cover of the rainy darkness and the loud wind, and it was impossible to see or hear the sappers at work. 
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For me, it was a sudden shock awakening from my philosophical reveries.  Now was real-time terror – right here, right now – with no time to think about trivial cosmological speculations.  It was now all senses, practiced tactics, and cunning.  The NVA had breached our perimeter and suddenly started firing on us from behind the foxholes off to my right.  The black rain obscured everything except for the tracers of AK-47 rounds.  Tracers told that night’s entire story.  NVA tracers went into the two holes on either side of their breach in the wire, and a responding fire was evidenced by M-16 tracers from the Marines there, who were taken completely by surprise.  The Marines’ tracers gave away their positions, and their fire weakened as they were quickly overwhelmed and annihilated. 
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The NVA were pouring in and fanning out within the perimeter, as their constantly increasing volume of tracers revealed.  Then we suddenly had heavy incoming automatic fire from in front, from outside the wire, as well as from the rear, from inside, and we were pinned down, faces in the mud.  It was overwhelming and faster than one would believe.  I was confined in my tiny crawl-hole bunker and could not even begin to get a shot off, even if I had had a target.  If I detonated the Claymores now it would only reveal our exact positions with the big flashes and not do much harm to any enemy outside the wire.  Besides, it was happening too fast.  It looked like it would be over extremely soon with a bad ending for us.  Then we got unexpected assistance. 
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Unbeknown to me, there was a daytime observation tower on this ridge, behind us to the right, and it was manned this night by a Platoon Sergeant whose name I never got.  Wish I could have met him because he saved numerous Marine lives that night, including yours truly.  He had an M-60 machinegun up in his tower with an A-gunner feeding him ammo belts, and this guy never let up.  Suddenly his tracers came down on the NVA within the perimeter – which gave away his position and caused them to fire up at him.  NVA tracers all tilted up at him immediately.  It was a wild fireworks show in the dark rain.  The machine-gunner in the tower shot in long sweeping bursts and never fully paused until a 100 round belt had been spent, when there was a short pause as he secured another belt and then continued firing.  The pouring, blowing rain cooled his barrel enough that it did not burn out, and he just kept pouring lead into the infiltrators.  It was masterful work. 
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The machine-gun fire from the tower thinned out the NVA on the inside of the wire and broke their momentum, and then he directed fire at the hole in the wire where tracers indicated that they were still coming through.  He hosed them down with lead.  He backed up the incoming NVA at the bottleneck hole in the wire and stopped any more from coming in.  The NVA were stumbling over their comrades’ dead bodies and dying in heaps.  A mopping up within the perimeter was done, and the gap was secured.  The NVA still outside our perimeter knew they would not prevail and vanished into the rain before dawn. 
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Dawn came slowly because of the heavy overcast and rain, and I was shocked that I had seen the dawn of another day.  The two Marines on my position, one to my left and one to my right, spoke, saying, “I’m coming in.  Don’t shoot me.”  We just stood there and shook our heads at the long crazy night just past.  A Marine came by to guide me and other temporary reinforcements back to our entrenchments over the hill.  We shuffled back to whatever semi-dry digs we could find, and I slept almost the entire day with adrenaline burnout. 
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Six Marines died that night, the guys on two holes over to my right.  I never met them and never even knew their names.  A number of ours were wounded, some severely.  The NVA dead numbered a couple dozen. 
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Looking back, as unchanged an atheist now as I was then, I am still haunted sometimes by “survivor guilt”, a common feeling among combat vets, wondering why I was spared while these other Marines were killed.  Should I, could I, have done something else?  Why did I survive?  Was it just luck that the NVA hit a bit to my right rather than coming over the top of me?  Haunting thoughts, they will never be answered and are best laid to rest. 
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All in all, I put my survival down to dumb luck, mere chance – and an M-60 machine- gunner with balls of brass in a tower. 
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But don’t ever tell me that there are no atheists in foxholes. 
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-Zenwind.
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10 February 2013

Climbing Memories, Black Betty, and Mundee


My favorite Hard Rocking band in Bangkok is Mundee, who play at The Rock Pub. I see them every chance I get, usually at midnight on Wednesdays.  They play a fantastic cover of Black Betty, an American Southern folk-blues prison work song, plus they play amazing covers of Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, and many other great Rock bands.  They do rock.
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Black Betty was a radio hit by Ram Jam in 1977, and it seems that the song is always connected in my memory with my earliest climbing days since that year was my first for technical climbing.  Later, in 1980 or 1981, I was teaching climbing techniques to an adventure specialty group of teen Explorer Scouts; we focused on mountaineering, climbing rock, snow and ice.  The lyrics to Black Betty came into my mind spontaneously and mysteriously as we were climbing during a storm on one of our multi-pitch rock climbs in the Adirondack Mountains.  (This is a long story, but as we will see at its end, it was Mundee that helped me figure it all out.) 
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It was the middle of June, but on the day we hiked up to Mt. Rooster Comb with all of our gear, a cold storm was coming in.  We stashed our bivouac gear on the summit of the mountain, then carried our climbing gear down a trail around to the bottom of the South Face, and our objective was to climb the “Old Route,” an easy but long climb first pioneered by the great German-American climber Fritz Wiessner, one of my great climbing heroes.  (I had first free climbed it in September 1977 as my first major solo climb with minimal roped backup and poor equipment – all alone.) 
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As our Explorer team started this long climb – in a rope-team of five or so – it started raining on us.  I led the hardest pitches, being sure that solid anchors were in place to keep our team from falling all the way to the ground far below.  By the time we were getting to the highest parts of the climb, the weather got colder and turned from rain to hail.  When we looked up at the higher mountain peaks all around us, they were plastered with snow. 
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Our easy rock climb now became much more dangerous.  All of us were soaking wet from the rain, it was cold and hypothermia was a big threat – when hypothermic, a person’s judgment is greatly diminished, as well as his coordination.  And we were at the most exposed part of the face, near its top.  The hail-stones were slippery round balls of ice under our feet, and they covered the tilted rock ledge we had to traverse to our right.  This ledge slants/ tilts outward from the wall left-to-right, and it is scary – it seems like it wants to dump you off the cliff at its highest point.  It is scary to walk this ledge when the rock is dry and sunny, as it had been when I soloed it years before, but now it was horrifyingly dangerous with all of the ice under our feet. 
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But we were roped together as a team, and I was confident both that I could anchor all of us with “bomb-proof” rock anchor protection and that our team was well-trained.  But it is never easy to protect a rope-team on a traverse, so I had a reliable climber go ahead and clip into a solid anchor, in order to belay the team between us as they traversed, and I stationed myself at the most dangerous part of the ledge, to make sure that everyone who climbed up to me and then past me was clipped in correctly and well-protected.  What I was most afraid of was our hypothermia and the possibility of making simple mistakes at that critical spot.  
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I also wanted to show my cold, wet, shivering team that I was upbeat and confident in that exposed spot, so, from somewhere in my crazy mind I got the idea to start clapping my hands, stomping my feet, and singing “Whoa, Black Betty, bam-a-lam/ Whoa, Black Betty, bam-a-lam….”  As each team climber came up to me on the beginning of that high ledge, they looked at me like I was crazy as I sang those lyrics to them while grinning like a madman. 
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These guys had already known that I was nuts – I climbed mountains – but they were equally insane to follow me into such situations.  I was never able to explain to them the weird “Black Betty” lyrics that I sang to them on the most dangerous spot on that climb.  I was never even able to explain it to myself. 
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Only in 2011 in Bangkok did I discover why that song came into my head at that earlier specific time and place in 1980 or 1981.  In February 2011, I was at the Rock Pub on a Wednesday midnight, and Mundee sang Black Betty.  The song really rocked me, and it reminded me of that team rock climb.  So after I got home I looked up the song and its history. 
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I discovered that the song was a radio hit precisely in September 1977, and that explained everything.  1977 was my first year of technical rock climbing.  That year I was constantly on the road, driving to climbing areas with my car’s Rock n Roll radio as my only companion.  In September 1977 I did my first major solo climb – the “Old Route” on Mt. Rooster Comb – and the song on all radio stations at that time was Black Betty by Ram Jam.  (“Bam-a-lam!”) 
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That is the reason the song suddenly came into my head three or four years later on the second time I climbed it (this time with my Explorer team).  The song was embedded into my memory of that rock face from the first day I climbed it alone.  Music has that magical way of embedding itself into our life’s memories – into the soundtracks of our lives. 
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Thank you, Mundee, for refreshing my memories and for playing such great Rock n Roll.  I’m a fan.  (I also wrote about Mundee two years ago HERE.)
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-Zenwind. 
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23 December 2012

Maurice Herzog, Mountain Climber, R.I.P. (1919-2012)

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One of my great heroes, French mountain climber Maurice Herzog, died on 13 December 2012 at age 93, both famous and controversial.  Through his pivotal book, Annapurna (1952), the best-selling mountaineering book of all time, he inspired me (and uncountable others in my own and later generations) to climb to the very top – Fuck any and all personal costs.  He and Louis Lachenal summited the Himalayan peak Annapurna (8,091 meters/ 26,245 feet) in 1950 – without oxygen – and were the first known climbers to summit one of the 14 mountains over 8,000 meters in height. 
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In their bold all-out dash to the summit, Herzog and Lachenal wore lightweight boots and risked severe frostbite, and indeed both of them soon lost all their toes and Herzog lost his fingers.  Their retreat from the mountain, aided by some of France’s greatest climbers on the team, was an epic in itself.  It would be 20 years before Annapurna was summited a second time.  It’s a bear of a mountain, and many of mountaineering’s best have died there since. 
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One of Herzog’s immortal lessons to me from his experience this was:  “Don’t lose your gloves!”  That sounds sensible enough, but in the extreme experience of hypothermia, inhumanly agonizing climbing fatigue and lack of rest, one does not always focus to the optimum. And on Annapurna’s high altitude they were massively oxygen-deprived.  On the descent of Annapurna, Herzog took off his gloves to get into his rucksack, and the gloves blew away down the slope.  No spare gloves/mittens = disaster; there is such a thing as taking lightweight packing to absurd extremes.  He lost his fingers (as well as his toes). 
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I remembered his plight in horror when in April 1975 I was alone on the summit of Mt. Marcy in unseasonably brutal freezing winter conditions while shivering with hypothermia and at the end of my wits and strength, and when taking off my mittens to take a photo, one mitt in my only pair of mittens blew away; it started sliding down toward the void of Panther Gorge and I quickly stepped out and got a boot on it before it was lost.  I vowed that very day to splurge and buy an extra pair of mitts for all future cold expeditions.  Don’t forget that lesson! 
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Another great lesson from this Annapurna epic was the survival value of snow caves.  On their desperate descent the frostbitten Herzog and Lachenal were rescued by their fellow teammates, Gaston Rebuffat and Lionel Terray.  Someone accidentally fell into a crevasse that luckily had them slide somewhat laterally (rather than vertically) into a snow cave-like cavity.  There they weathered out the wild wind and cold, but with only one sleeping bag for four men.  (That had to have been one long night.) 
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When they broke out for a desperate retreat to lower camps the next morning, the physically able were snow-blinded, and they were guided by the cripples who still had vision.  It was but a marginal team arrangement, but it got them down. 
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Climbers earlier had been well above 8,000 meters on both Everest and K2, but without reaching the summits.  The French feat was great, and Herzog’s well-written account of it electrified the mountaineering world.  Everest was finally summited in 1953 by the strong British expedition, and K2 was summited in 1954 by two in the Italian team backed up by the immortal Walter Bonatti (another of my greatest heroes). 
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One great achievement by Herzog and the French team in 1950 was that they had to do a quick and completely original exploration and reconnaissance of the mostly unknown Annapurna region to even find the mountain in the far back wilderness, and they were pressured hard by time as the coming summer monsoon would smother them in storm.  Heroes come through in desperate situations.  With a bit of luck. 
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The Herzog legacy has hit some bumps in recent years as newer discoveries in climbing history have made some of the previously unknown details clearer.   Controversy is not unusual to the sport of climbing, since we are all egotistical lunatics and closet glory-hounds.  (Example:  most of my own greatest climbs were solo with no witnesses and of moderate difficulty; yet I will brag about them until my dying day!  Climbing defines us at a very fierce level.)  Some of the members of this 1950 French team did not get the glory they deserved in Herzog’s book. 
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For example: 
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Lionel Terray – author of perhaps the greatest title describing the lunacy of mountain climbers, Conquistadors of the Useless -- was on the team and an important element in the expedition’s success and the rescue of the summiteers.  Terray was a great one, specializing in fast and light ascents way before it became esteemed for its aesthetic purity.  He did the first ascent in 1955 of Makalu (8,481 meters and 5th highest peak in the world) with Jean Couzy, and this French expedition later put seven more members on the summit before going home, a tremendous achievement.  He also did the first ascent of Cerro Fitzroy in Patagonia, 1952, with Guido Magnone, and the first ascent of Mt. Huntington in Alaska in 1964. 
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Later discovered writings by Louis Lachenal, who summited Annapurna with Herzog, have apparently added new details to the story of the climb.  Lachenal and Terray did the second ascent of the North Face of the Eiger in 1947, an epic event. 
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Also on Herzog’s Annapurna team was Gaston Rebuffat – the skillful master of climbing technique and author of exquisite books on the grace of the upward moving mountaineer.  Gaston helped save the day in the retreat on Annapurna.  On his resume he was the first to climb all six of the Great North Faces in the Alps.  Another of my great heroes.  A stylist, a romantic and a visionary. 
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The controversy, in sum, is that Herzog as organizer/ leader of the expedition monopolized the rights to information for the press and the world at large, and thus his teammates – who saved his life – were pushed a bit into the background in his book and in immediate mountaineering fame. 
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Ok, I accept this.  Mountain climbers are not (quite) gods.  We are often pricks.  Human weaknesses are expected, and humans as climbers are not completely rational.  (How would you categorize someone who lusts for these dangerous desolate peaks?)  I am extremely glad to see the day when the other members of the 1950 Annapurna expedition are given their long-delayed due, and I’m sorry that Herzog did not share the glory as he might have.  I hope to someday read the full accounts of others on the expedition.  Mountains seem (from human perspective) to be not always fair to those who assault them, and neither are mountaineering historians. 
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Yet, all in all, Maurice Herzog, by publishing Annapurna in 1952, ignited a holy spark in so many of us misfits and inspired us to climb far beyond our limitations and to reach for the very top.  I thank him for that heroic vision. 
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-Zenwind.
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30 August 2012

Book Review: Rocket Men: the epic story of the first men on the Moon (2009) by Craig Nelson

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I bought this very excellent book some time ago when I saw it in a 60% off sale, and, ironically, I had started reading it just before the recent death of Neil Armstrong. Even though we know that Armstrong successfully landed his Apollo 11 Lunar Lander, when Nelson describes that prolonged, tense search for a safe landing spot while running low on landing fuel, it holds one in suspense.
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Nelson rivets your attention on the first page and doesn’t let up. He documents the unprecedented scale of the Space Race effort and provides great background on the Missile Race, the German scientists and Cold War. He gives detailed descriptions of the long hard work by the 400,000-strong team of scientists, engineers, astronauts, and aerospace industry workers – who overcame continuous obstacles to do the seemingly impossible.
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This book is a great companion to Andrew Chaikin’s earlier book on the entire Apollo program, A Man on the Moon (1994), which I reviewed two years ago here. Nelson’s Rocket Men focuses on the Apollo 11 flight and the effort leading up to it, while Chaikin had also documented the later flights of Apollo 12-17 with each of their individual dangers and discoveries. There is not as much overlap as one would expect between the two books, they complement each other well, and both are exciting reads.
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I highly recommend Rocket Men, especially now that the first man to step on the Moon has just died and passed into history. Although I had been a huge fan and close follower of the Mercury program in the early 1960s, I had been out of the loop for a while. I had never heard of Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin or Mike Collins when, in late July 1969, I was on Bunker 6, Hill 34, Quang Nam Province during the middle of a quiet moonlit night; our sergeant called up and told me, “The astronauts just landed on the Moon, man!” I looked up at the Moon and thought to myself, “Those guys are in more danger then I am at this particular moment.”
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After a poor start with early humiliating failures and later tragic deaths, the space program gained accelerating momentum and really did get off the ground – all the way to the Moon and back again. Heroic and inspiring work.
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-Zenwind.
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06 August 2012

Mars Landing of NASA Curiosity Spacecraft

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Damn! They actually did it. They pulled it off. They used a completely untried and incredibly bold landing technique – involving a rocket-powered hovercraft “backpack”, with the rover on rope slings below it, to lower the rover to the surface and then cut off from it and fly elsewhere to crash safely out of the way. Curiosity sits on the surface of Mars, ready to do its thing.
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The JPL/Cal Tech rocket boys and girls should be proud. Their immediate press conference – after the initial elation passed – showed them both humble and proud. They emphasized the total team effort involved, as well as the scientific rigor and hard, dedicated work. They said that “curiosity” was one of humanity’s hallmarks.
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The entire achievement is inspiring. Humanity at its best.
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-Zenwind.
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27 June 2012

Movie Review: Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

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Moonrise Kingdom, directed by Wes Anderson, is a strange little movie that I highly recommend, a “comedy, drama, romance”, that is low budget but featuring first rate acting talent. E.g.: Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Frances McDormand, Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton, and Harvey Keitel, but our new young actors, Kara Hayward as Suzy and Jared Gilman as Sam, steal the show. If you have ever been connected in any way with the Boy Scout movement, this movie is a must-see. If you ever remember young love, track the DVD down when it comes out.
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It is 1965. The plot revolves around two early-teens, Suzy (12-year-old daughter of Murray’s and McDormand’s characters) and Sam (a 12-year-old orphan and outsider but a Khaki Scout extraordinaire). They are both outcast loners yet they find each other and fall in love. Their individual lives at home have become so unbearable that they agree to run away together, relying on Sam's Scouting skills to survive in the wild.
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The corny low-budget homage to a bygone era reminds me in a way of A Christmas Story (1983) starring Darren McGavin. I will definitely get the DVD when available. I’m an irretrievable cult fan of this flick.
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Music has a powerful part in this film. Much of it is from the 1946 masterpiece by Benjamin Britten, “The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra”, as well as many more pieces by Britten. Another strong musical element is Hank Williams’ music: “Kaw-Liga”, “Long Gone Lonesome Blues”, and “Ramblin’ Man”. Williams’ songs are enough to make your heart break. We also hear from Camille Saint-Saens, Franz Schubert, Francoise Hardy, Mozart, and others. Be sure to stay with it into the end credits, where some more music education awaits you.
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As to Release Dates: apparently it was only Limited Release in the USA in May 2012. So look for DVD releases later this year. It is still in (limited) theaters here.
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Update: I just saw this film again in the only theater playing it in Thailand. It still plays – possibly because it strongly appeals to that very quirky sub-species, the American expatriate. I enjoyed the music more than ever this time, so see it in a theater if you can.
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-Zenwind.
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06 June 2012

Book Reviews: The Millennium Trilogy by Stieg Larsson – (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, etc.)

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This trilogy is a real page-turner for its entire three volumes of some 2,100 pages. I loved it and couldn’t put the books down. Written by the late Swedish journalist Stieg Larsson, the stories are murder mysteries, spy stories and pure thrillers, with courtroom drama and some unforgettable characters. It has a strong moral sense and is refreshingly feminist in that it features many extraordinarily intelligent and strong female characters. (I will try not to spoil the plotlines in this review, giving just enough detail to hopefully hook you on the books.)
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Larsson originally wanted the entire trilogy to be named Men Who Hate Women, because that is one of the major threads. The Swedish publishers did keep that name for the first Swedish novel (and the first Swedish film, based on the first volume, was also named that). The English language publishers named them: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (which I will refer to as Vol. 1), The Girl Who Played with Fire (Vol. 2), and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest (Vol. 3). It is called The Millennium Trilogy because the fictitious Swedish monthly journal Millennium is always close to the center of the action with its investigative journalist/publisher Mikael Blomkvist and its editor-in-chief Ericka Berger.
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The “girl” in the English titles is Lisbeth Salander – and what a character she is. She is small, looking like an anorexic teen when she is in her mid-twenties, and she is socially incompetent, deeply introverted, sticking to her own private world and mistrusting almost everyone else (except for her peers in “Hacker Republic”). Damaged goods. What most people around her do not realize about Lisbeth is that she has areas of pure genius. She has a photographic memory and has incredible abilities with computer technology. She is a world class hacker – “probably the best in Sweden”. She works as a researcher for a top-of-the-line private security company in Stockholm, whose boss says she is by far the best researcher he has ever seen.
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Lisbeth Salander is her own worst enemy when it comes to her personal PR. Her social incompetence makes her appear extremely rude. She comes off as offensively punk, tattooed, pierced, dressing very goth, and wearing lots of black make-up. She scowls, but if she ever gives her “crooked smile,” then look out, because some major shit may come down and someone will pay dearly. Even one of her greatest friends and defenders was surprised at her appearance at her own trial; he thought: “She reminded him of a vampire in some pop-art movie from the ‘60s.” (Vol. 3).
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You do not ever want to piss Lisbeth Salander off. Her revenge can be very exacting. Salander has a history of violence from her earliest school days through her teens, and, although she uses violence only in self defense, she is stereotyped as crazy and locked up in a children’s psych hospital when twelve years old. (However, there is an interesting back-story to that that is developed later in Vol. 2.) She just wants to be left alone, but various miscreants – representatives and hirelings of the state in particular – continue to oppress her. Even at her transition to adulthood at 18 she is still shackled by being declared legally “incompetent” and therefore under the complete control of a legal “guardian” appointed by the state.
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Yet we will see that Salander’s childhood institutionalization and her later guardianship status is actually orchestrated behind the scenes by shadowy police intrigues dating back from the Cold War era, and her rights as an individual have been trampled further by dumb bureaucracy and by the psychiatric industry. She has been horrendously mistreated.
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Author Stieg Larsson was a great feminist, an advocate for women’s rights, dignity and security. (It is said that at age 15 he witnessed a gang rape of a young teenage girl, and he never forgave himself for not doing something – anything – about it at the time; a haunted author.) His female characters are intelligent, passionate and strong-willed. Especially “the girl,” Lisbeth Salander, whose story is central.
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But we also meet other great heroines, such as Ericka Berger, an intelligent, super-competent and confident woman who is editor-in-chief of Millennium magazine. (The Swedish films of the trilogy, while being great adaptations, do not do complete justice to Ericka’s courage and integrity in the books; but in the first English language film so far, actress Robin Wright seems to be portraying Ericka as Larsson envisioned her.)
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There are other heroines in the novels. Monica Figuerola, who is not only an intelligent, beautiful, super physically fit law enforcement officer but also is a key investigator within a small secret police department that is responsible for protecting the integrity of Sweden’s constitutional rule of law. Sonja Modig is a Stockholm cop who independently thinks outside the box. Suzanne Linder is an ex-cop who specializes in private security and takes no nonsense from bad guys, showing them no mercy. If the English language film sequels follow as I hope, Embeth Davitz will be playing Annika Blomkvist Giannini in the third film. (I recently read a review of the trilogy by Mario Vargas Llosa, and he also delights in these strong female characterizations.)
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Mikael Blomkvist is the heroic investigative journalist with immense integrity, idealism, devotion and drive. Lisbeth Salander laughs at him as a boring “do-gooder,” while she is slowly admitting her growing respect for him as a professional and as a friend. Blomkvist has an interesting – and quite exhausting – sex life. Women, quite simply, like him, and he has an impressive array of lovers. He is a decent man, a moral man, and women tend to feel safe with him as well as appreciated by him. He makes no promises to anyone and is always honest, but women pull him into the sack remarkably often. To get his work done, he often must hide in unknown places – a very rough life! (Daniel Craig is very well suited to the English language movie role, although none of the movies have nearly as much bedroom action as the books.)
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Blomkvist’s love life fits in with Sweden’s famous sexual libertarianism. If it is between consenting adults, well then it’s none of your business – neither yours nor the state’s. Blomkvist and Ericka Berger have been “best friends” and “occasional lovers” for 25 years, and, although it destroyed Blomkvist’s earlier attempt at marriage to another woman who eventually could not accept his infidelities with Ericka, Berger’s husband (who is bisexual) accepts his wife’s affair with no problems. Ericka is deeply in love with two men.
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This attitude is libertarian because it is entirely consensual and laissez faire. Lisbeth Salander’s love life is totally off all maps. Larsson defends all sexual preferences between consenting adults: hetero, LGBT, etc.
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Looking at the three novels here, Vol. 1 is a murder mystery and an intro to some of the main characters. Vol. 2 continues with our characters pursuing an entirely new murder mystery involving journalistic investigations into coercive sex trafficking of young foreign women into Sweden as unwilling prostitutes. Lisbeth’s history is unearthed, e.g., how she “played with fire.” Vol. 3 is a seamless sequel from Vol. 1 and 2, in which we meet Cold War rogues in Lisbeth’s background and the Swedish secret police. The Hacker Republic is introduced, a loose, worldwide, internet-connected community of hackers who defend their own. There is a classic courtroom trial in which all of Lisbeth’s loyal friends are involved. It is a fantastic series.
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Political and philosophical stuff: (my opinions):
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The nanny state is the government insisting that it knows best how to take good care of you, whether you want that care or not. There are moments when the horror show of bureaucratic tyranny overwhelms me. Larsson strongly criticizes the real-life infringements made on individuals’ autonomy and rights by the legal institution of Guardianship that victimizes his fictional Lisbeth.
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He also criticizes coercive psychiatric institutionalization – shades of Thomas Szasz, as a good libertarian friend has reminded me. Szasz is a Hungarian-American psychiatrist who has argued against such state incarceration. (One of my greatest uneasy guilty actions is the fact that I worked many years on locked psychiatric wards, a turnkey lording over legally coerced patients officially labeled with “mental illness.” Someday I will address such guilty memories in more detail.)
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Self-defense. Mace pepper spray is an “illegal weapon” throughout Sweden, yet professional journalist and editor Ericka Berger carries it. She says, “I’ll be damned if I’m going to run around alone at night without some sort of weapon.” She is an independent woman and intends to remain so.
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Later, Ericka has her house broken into by a scary, threatening weirdo who may return at any time. The police are not even interested or helpful. She is completely alone at this time, so she positions golf clubs in the house as possible defensive weapons if he returns. She is later informed by police that in Sweden if you kill an intruder breaking into your own home you will be charged with manslaughter; if you admit that you had fore-armed yourself (with golf clubs) it could be charged as murder. That is insane!
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Free Will. Lisbeth Salander had been bullied by the state for her entire life, with her rights violated systematically. Her family upbringing was violently dysfunctional. Yet she declares several times that environmental influences are no excuse. A couple of times she says that: “There are no innocents. There are, however, different degrees of responsibilities.” According to a non-political, specialized philosophical usage of the word “libertarian” – relating instead to ethical-epistemological issues of Free Will – Lisbeth is a libertarian: we choose and are responsible. (I would also call her a political libertarian, if indeed she could be said to be political at all; she is probably in the individualist-anarchist camp of libertarian theory.)
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A note on the film adaptations of the trilogy. The three Swedish language films are excellent. Although they had played at a small venue in Bangkok, I never saw them then because I knew nothing about the story. I only paid attention when it was announced that Daniel Craig would star in an English version, and then I read the trilogy and eventually got the Swedish DVDs. The English version was also excellent, and I look forward to the sequels. The Swedish actress Noomi Rapace was very good in her original screen role as Lisbeth, and I am glad to see that she has more film roles coming her way now. But I think that Rooney Mara portrayed a Lisbeth that was closer to the books. This is because Mara is younger, smaller and more vulnerable looking. Rapace looks like a true ass-kicker, and for that reason I cannot picture her as easily being the victim in the first film. But all the films thus far are all great, adding up to one great body of work in literature and film.
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(Immediately following below is a very long review of the book The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Philosophy, 2012, ed. by Eric Bronson.)
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-Zenwind.
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Book Review: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Philosophy: Everything Is Fire (2012) ed. by Eric Bronson

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This book philosophically analyzes Stieg Larsson’s The Millennium Trilogy [reviewed separately above], i.e., the novels, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (vol. 1), The Girl Who Played with Fire (vol. 2), and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest (vol. 3). It is part of the Blackwell Philosophy and Pop Culture series. As in other volumes in this and related publishers’ series, this book offers a variety of philosophical perspectives from many contributors, as well as bits of humor and a great love of the subject matter. (The subtitle, “Everything Is Fire”, is a great example of this: It brings to mind both Volume 2 of the trilogy and the philosophical contribution of the great ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus.) Editor Eric Bronson was also co-editor of The Lord of the Rings and Philosophy, a book I also enjoyed very much and reviewed here several years ago.
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SPOILER ALERT: Reading this review assumes that you have read all three novels of Stieg Larsson’s The Millennium Trilogy and/or have seen the three Swedish films. If your only intro to the trilogy is the first English language film, you may want to wait to see the forthcoming Hollywood sequels before reading this. Important plot details are given away here for the entire trilogy.
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PHILOSOPHY ALERT: This review is very long and under a heavy philosophical burden, so if philosophy isn’t your thing you might want to skip the whole post. But I’m an addict and simply couldn’t put the book(s) down. As always, I do not agree with some of the philosophers and thinkers who write here or are quoted, but I always learn something from them. I call challenges like this “mind-stretching”, good for one’s brain even if it sometimes feels like being physically stretched on the Torture Rack.
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The book’s Dedication is: “To Pippi Longstocking and the misfit in all of us.” If you get that, this book may be for you.
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Editor Eric Bronson’s Introduction is subtitled “The Girl Who Kicked the Sophists’ Nest” and his first sentence is: “If Lisbeth Salander is the new voice of reason, then truth ‘can be a moody bitch’.” That five-word quote at the end is from character Mikael Blomkvist’s affectionate-but-truthful description of Salander. Making a comparison of Salander and Socrates, Bronson writes:
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“Like Lisbeth in Stockholm, Socrates saw himself as a gadfly in Athens, an annoying pest who forced the city sophists to look deeper into their own hypocrisies. Before Lisbeth, it was Socrates who was brought to trial and pre-convicted in the court of public opinion. ‘I have incurred a great deal of bitter hostility,’ he complained, ‘and this is what will bring about my destruction’. Salander puts it differently. ‘Every time I turn around’, she says in The Girl Who Played with Fire, ‘there’s some fucking pile of shit with a beer belly in my way acting tough’.” (p.3)
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The book’s five parts are: “Lisbeth ‘The Idiot’ Salander”; “Mikael ‘Do-Gooder’ Blomkvist”; “Stieg Larsson, Mystery Man”; “Everyone Has Secrets”; and, “75,000 Volts of Vengeance Can’t Be Wrong, Can It?”
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Part One: Lisbeth “The Idiot” Salander.
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Chapter 1: “Labeling Lisbeth: Sti(e)gma and Spoiled Identity”, by Aryn Marti and Mary Simms.
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The authors take Larsson’s portrayal of Lisbeth’s social/ psychological stigma as being a dangerously crazy and violent child and young adult, and they discuss it in terms of the works of Erving Goffman (Asylums: Essays on the Social Situations of Mental Patients and Other Inmates, 1961; Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity, 1986).
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Throughout her life Lisbeth is given horrible (and out of context) labels, e.g., as insane, violent, etc. Such labels make it easier for such people to be further labeled and identified as having such and such a pathology and thus guilty of such and such behavior – even if evidence for this is thin or lacking completely.
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As we know, in Lisbeth Salander’s case a sinister conspiracy is using her stigma and labels to bury her in a mental institution for life. She has zero credibility, and the conspirators count on this to silence her. The authors point out that many people in real life face these problems of such easy labeling.
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In one section, titled “The Right to Remain Sullen”, the authors point out that such institutional incarceration can change a patient’s view of themselves (p.9). There are “attacks on the self” (Goffman) involved, including a paper trail of records and personal history written by others. Goffman is quoted (p.10): “[T]he official sheet of paper attests that the patient is of unsound mind, a danger to himself and others – an attestation, incidentally, which seems to cut deeply into the patient’s pride, and into the possibility of having any.” Goffman’s term, “spoiled identity”, is an interesting and useful concept.
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Lisbeth tried to tell the police, the social workers and the psychiatrists why she has acted as she did, but they do not listen. She is invisible to them (a concept I first learned from reading Nathaniel Branden’s theories of “psychological visibility”).
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(When discussing these novels with a libertarian friend of mine, a physician, he reminded me of the parallels between Lisbeth’s criminal mistreatment by the psychiatric establishment and the anti-establishment work of the longtime renegade psychiatrist Thomas Szasz.)
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Chapter 2: “The Mis-education of Lisbeth Salander and the Alchemy of the At-Risk Child”, by Chad William Timm.
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(A personal note: I absolutely hated public school, always thinking of my time there as a 12-year prison sentence; this undoubtedly helped formulate my early anti-authoritarian self.)
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Timm asks us, how did Lisbeth, with a phenomenal photographic memory, genius computer abilities and unparalleled research skills, fail so miserably at school? He sets out to explain “the ways school officials use their positions of power to separate and categorize students such as Lisbeth, essentially constructing their identities” (p.20). He uses ideas of Michel Foucault in his analysis.
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Timm focuses on “the recent standards and accountability movement” in the USA. There have been “unprecedented steps to regulate schooling” by the US federal government (p.21). (As a former teacher there, I can only agree with him.)
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In a beautiful line that I cannot agree with more, Timm writes: “The bastard child of the standards and accountability movement was President George W. Bush’s 2002 No Child Left Behind Act” (NCLB), recently renamed by President Barack Obama as the Race to the Top Program (p.22).
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Policy makers construct the standardized tests, thus “fabricating”, through a kind of “alchemy”, the successful student and the “at risk” ones – here borrowing terms from educational philosopher Thomas Popkewitz, who also uses Foucault’s ideas (p.22-3). (I first heard of this whole phenomenon reading a 1960s review of Banesh Hoffmann’s book The Tyranny of Testing, 1962, in The Objectivist.)
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Accountability requires that teachers teach to the tests, which are fabricated from on high. “Multiple choice fill-in-the-bubble exams require students to think in certain limited ways, and teachers are forced to teach to those understandings so that students are proficient and their schools don’t lose funding” (p.23).
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Lisbeth did not follow the program and was labeled “at risk.” Yet she was profoundly “gifted and talented”, and no one saw that. Schools are much like prisons, thus “at risk” students, as defined by the school powers, are regulated and watched. Labeling one as “at risk” can be a self-fulfilling prophecy (p.28). (Yes, it can.)
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NCLB accountability disciplines and normalizes schools into conformity. If a school falls below expectations, it is “subject to surveillance, discipline, and punishment” (p.30). Schools pass these actions down to students. (As we used to say in the Marines, “Shit flows downhill.”)
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A quote from Foucault is given (p.31) about “domination” and “authority”. Lisbeth refuses to be disciplined or bow to authority and thus fails at school.
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(I would add that from my vantage point as a teacher in the era of NCLB, I see the system also stifling and destroying teachers as well as students.)
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Chapter 3: “The Girl Who Turned the Tables: a queer reading of Lisbeth Salander”, by Kim Surkan
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A very interesting chapter. Enough said.
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Part Two: Mikael “Do-Gooder” Blomkvist
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Chapter 4: “Why Are So Many Women F***king Kalle Blomkvist?: Larsson’s philosophy of female attraction”, by Andrew Terjesen and Jenny Terjesen
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Simply summarized, why is Mikael Blomkvist actively bedded so often by so many hot women? They cannot resist him. (And it’s not in any way connected with Daniel Craig – aka, James Bond – playing Blomkvist in the Hollywood re-adaption of volume 1; the original novels show us a Blomkvist that has an even more active sex life.)
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Well, Blomkvist is a strong and decent man with great integrity. He has confidence in himself as well as genuine respect and consideration for his many lovers. They just cannot resist him even if he never makes promises. Also, this is Sweden, which has a reputation as a sexually libertarian culture.
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Chapter 5: “Why Journalists and Geniuses Love Coffee and Hate Themselves”, by Eric Bronson
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Bronson asks, “What’s the deal with all the coffee?” Indeed, our characters are drinking copious amounts of coffee at home, at work, in cafes and while visiting or hosting. Java is everywhere in these stories. Just reading about it all makes me want to run to the john. Lisbeth Salander, Mikael Blomkvist, and most of the heroes and villains all hang out in cafes.
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Bronson reminds us of the history of coffee and European intellectuals. The coffee houses of the 18th century were the in places to talk about ideas. They were known as “penny universities”, because a poor but thoughtful man could learn a lot by just hanging around and listening. Joseph Addison praised them, as did Diderot. Later, Marx and Engels hung out in Paris cafes, and later Trotsky did in Vienna. Other frequenters of Paris cafes were Stein, Hemingway and their Lost Generation; Sartre, de Beauvoir and the Existentialists. (Pp.66-71)
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(I must add that, if memory serves me correctly, coffee houses figured importantly in the story of two great early 18th century libertarians getting together, John Trenchard and Thomas Gordon, authors of Cato’s Letters, 1720-1723, one of the most important sources of libertarian ideas for America’s revolutionaries generations later.)
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Bronson sums his essay up with wit: “Lonely, self-absorbed, and socially awkward, today’s coffee drinker is again a sign of the times. That’s not to say everyone is like that. In most societies, you can still find well-adjusted, contented, and calm people completely at peace with themselves and their universe. Those are the tea drinkers” (p.72). Bronson points out that Zen masters drink tea and they see it closely associated with tranquility. But Larsson’s characters “prefer a quick cup of joe in between kickboxing lessons and hacking government websites” (p.73).
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Chapter 6: “The Making of Kalle Blomkvist: crime journalism in post-war Sweden”, by Ester Pollack
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Pollack writes of Blomkvist that he is “the embodiment of the investigative journalist who exposes power and corruption” (p.76). She says that his high ideals do exist, for example, with Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein of Watergate fame, with “journalism as a counterweight to political power” (p.77). She then goes on to trace the history of investigative journalism in Sweden – of which Stieg Larsson was a bold modern example.
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Part Three: Stieg Larsson, Mystery Man
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Chapter 7: “The Philosopher Who Knew Stieg Larsson: a brief memoir”, by Sven Ove Hansson
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Hansson first got together with Larsson because both were into investigating right-wing extremist groups, fascists, racists, neo-nazis, etc. Hansson writes that Larsson “was Sweden’s leading figure in the investigations and exposure of racist organizations and their activities” (p.92).
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Larsson traced the change toward more open and blatant anti-Semitism in Sweden since the late 1980s, along with “an increasing number of right-wing extremist journals, pamphlets, and web pages” (p.96). Larsson also traced “a new strategy” by a leading Swedish fascist, Per Engdahl (1909-1994), to get their movement into electoral politics: i.e., recognizing that biological racism would no longer sell but attacking cultural differences and immigration would work. Thus a new party was born, Sweden Democrats. This copied the same strategy used by Britain’s National Front, led by fascist A.K. Chesterton in the late 1960s (p.97).
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Stieg Larsson also was also famously outspoken against violence against homosexuals and women.
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Larsson also spoke out against pseudoscience of every kind, and he publicized a link between publishing houses that printed pseudoscience stuff and printing of pro-Nazi (and Holocaust-denier) David Irving’s biography of Goring. “Stieg was a skeptic of the paranormal. He refused to believe the unsubstantiated claims of pseudoscience and mysticism, defended science as a road to knowledge, and rejected the ‘postmodern’ idea that all of our knowledge is a social construction. He knew where relativism and irrationalism could lead. The Holocaust was not a social construction but an indisputable historical fact.” (p.102).
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Deterministic beliefs such as astrology leave no room for acting to better oneself and one’s world, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, in Larsson’s words, “a stifling form of spirituality” (p103).
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Hansson ends his essay with this: “Stieg Larsson’s ideas and convictions are clearly visible in his novels: his feminism and his contempt for discrimination, his conviction that hidden power structures should be brought to light, his anti-elitism, and not least, his belief in the power of human rationality” (p.105).
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Chapter 8: “This Isn’t Some Damned Locked-Room Mystery Novel”: Is The Millennium Trilogy Popular Fiction or Literature?” by Tyler Shores.
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Discussing how readers have certain expectations of literature, Shores (on pp.110-111) quotes Nietzsche on who is the ideal reader: “When I try to picture the character of a perfect reader, I always imagine a monster of courage and curiosity, as well as of suppleness, cunning, and prudence – in short, a born adventurer and explorer” (Nietzsche, Ecce Homo).  Ooh Rah! Very well said, Fred! That quote encapsulates my own lifelong relationship with Nietzsche.
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Shores writes that Larsson’s trilogy, highlighting violence against women and corruption in high places, might be, in Sartre’s words, a “committed literature”, meant to inspire change (p.111).
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Chapter 9: “Why We Enjoy Reading about Men Who Hate Women: Aristotle’s Cathartic Appeal”, by Denis Knepp.
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Why do we enjoy reading about such violently sick tragic events?
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Plato wanted to banish the poets – epic (Homer) and tragic (Aeschylus, Sophocles, etc.) – from his ideal (despotic) State. [To me, one of the Western world’s most egregious mistakes was to name Plato’s most famous work as The Republic; such a wickedly tyrannical regime is best named, as the Germans do, Der Staat, “The State”.] Plato would censor all violence and bad behavior on the stage or in other literature because of possible bad influences on the audience.
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In Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, the king returns home from Troy only to be killed by his wife with an axe. (Lisbeth Salander also wields an axe against her own father.) In this play’s sequel, The Libation Bearers, Aeschylus has their son, Orestes, kill his mother to avenge his father. After summing up their story, Knepp writes, “And you thought the Vangers were a dysfunctional family!” (p.122).
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Knepp then focuses on Aristotle’s theory of catharsis in his Poetics, a book that deals mainly with tragic “poetry”, i.e., drama, and is one of the earliest theoretical treatments of art. (Sadly, Aristotle’s promised writings on comedy are lost to the ages.) Aristotle says that tragic heroes (such as Lisbeth Salander) must be flawed rather than godlike, so that we can sympathize with them and feel “pity” and “terror” over their undeserved suffering. Lisbeth is brutally raped by Bjurman, and it is a horrible scene, but Aristotle wrote of such horrible scenes that we experience “by means of pity and terror a catharsis of such emotions.” (Poetics)
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“Catharsis” has traditionally been translated as “purging”, as in vomiting, bad emotions. Knepp brings in a different reading of “catharsis” by Aristotelian scholar Martha Nussbaum. She writes that catharsis originally meant “clarification or cleaning up” (The Fragility of Goodness: luck and ethics in Greek tragedy and philosophy, 2001). Her application to Aristotle’s theory: “the function of a tragedy is to accomplish, through pity and fear, a clarification (or illumination) concerning experiences of the pitiable and fearful kind.” (Quoted here on p.125.)
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Knepp sums up the above quote from Nussbaum: “When Aristotle wrote that Athenians watching a Greek tragedy had a catharsis of the emotions of pity and fear, it meant that the audience came to a better understanding of these emotions. Art is educational” (p.125). The world can be a fearful and confusing place, “and art can serve to clarify and dispel our confusion” (p.125).
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Knepp now returns to Salander being raped by Bjurman with the added meaning of catharsis as clarification. “It is a function of power”, he writes, Bjurman being her legal guardian who is supposed to protect her (p.125). Stieg Larsson wrote, in the first novel, that: “Taking away a person’s control of her own life – meaning her bank account – is one of the greatest infringements a democracy can impose, especially when it applies to young people” (p.125).
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Martin Vanger’s serial rapes and murders give him (in Larsson’s words), “the godlike feeling of having absolute control over someone’s life and death.” Again, it is a man of power who preys on powerless women.
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The ancient Greek tragedies have no happy endings, but Lisbeth does get her revenge. Knepp quotes Aristotle, who wrote that it is not tragic to see “a thoroughly villainous person falling from good fortune into misfortune” but it “can contain moral satisfaction” (p.126). Knepp ends his essay by pointing out: “And Salander’s revenge is certainly satisfying” (p.126). Oh, Yeah!
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Chapter 10: “The Dragon Tattoo and the voyeuristic Reader”, by Jaime Weida
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Weida quotes several feminist writers who see Larsson’s presentation of Lisbeth Salander as an object for “voyeuristic pleasure” (p.130). She also quotes a 24-year-old survivor of a violent rape who said: “It was very cathartic reading the books, and when I watched the first movie I was blown away…. It was the first active and aggressive depiction of a survivor I have ever seen” (p.136).
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Weida writes that she is a fan of the books and of Lisbeth Salander, but that we also must admit that the stories may appeal to “prurient curiosity and voyeuristic urge by turning Salander into a sexual spectacle” (p.136).
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Part Four: Everyone Has Secrets
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Chapter 11: “Hacker’s Republic: Information junkies in a free society”, by Andrew Zimmerman Jones
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Jones sums up his essay by writing: “By making his two primary characters a journalist and a hacker, Stieg Larsson has created a new kind of hero for our modern information age” (p153).
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He discusses WikiLeaks and Julian Assange, quoting a WikiLeaks self-description: “We help you safely get the truth out. We are of assistance to people of all countries who wish to reveal unethical behavior in their governments and institutions. We aim for maximum political impact” (p.141). WikiLeaks protects its sources, just as journalist Blomkvist does. Their information leaks range from US war atrocities to secrets of government corruption to diplomatic cables to exposes of Scientology to a part in the spread of the “Climategate” email publication.
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Assange became famous early as an “ethical computer hacker” when still a teen (p.142). Jones goes into the evolutions of meaning for the term “hacker”, while pointing out that the term “cracker” best describes those who are primarily destructive, e.g., creating viruses and damaging computer systems (p.143).
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“It is becoming more mainstream to think of science as a hacker enterprise”, writes Jones. “Genetic manipulation is called ‘hacking the genome’.” (p.144). In quoting writers on “hacker ethics”, Jones shows how hacker culture appeals so much to Lisbeth Salander – including the lack of trust in authorities and the hacker call for decentralization of information. “It is self-reliant and rooted in an antiauthoritarian embrace of individuality” (p.145). Jones points out that Lisbeth shares many ethical principles with Assange (p.146).
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One very interesting point made by Jones really explained a lot to me about differences today in libertarian theory. He writes: “Many young people today do not think about ownership the same way that their parents did. The digital revolution and the mainstreaming of hacker culture have resulted in a world where boundaries of ownership are rapidly changing” (p.147). (And the topic of intellectual property is a really hot one in modern libertarian circles.)
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Jones writes: “This belief in free information also has positive manifestations. The most potent single source of information ever created is Wikipedia, the volunteer-written encyclopedia that is accessible, for free, to anyone in the world, with articles that cover virtually any topic imaginable. Wikipedia is the ultimate manifestation of the idea that ‘Information wants to be free but is everywhere in chains’” (p.148). (The ending quote here is taken from McKenzie Wark, A Hacker Manifesto, 2004, and it is of course a paraphrase from Marx and Engels, The Communist Manifesto, 1848. The creator of Wikipedia, Jimmy Wales, is a libertarian Objectivist but my personal knowledge of him can still imagine him greatly appreciating this tribute.)
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This Jones’ essay has more rich ideas about transparency, hackers, Lisbeth Salander, and Assange. It is worth the price of the book in itself.
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Chapter 12: “Kicking the Hornet’s Nest: the hidden ‘Section’ in every institution”, by Adriel M. Trott.
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Trott asks if problems with institutions – such as Lisbeth Salander had with the institutions of the secret service and the psychiatric profession (and, one could add, with the police, courts, and news media) – are because of a few bad individuals in them, or is it a case of the entire institution being rotten?
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Trott brings in Aristotle’s thoughts on the Rule of Law (Aristotle, Politics). Aristotle differentiates the rule of law (“reason without desire”) from the rule of men [which he also said was like the rule of a “wild beast”].
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Trott continues: “Yet he [Aristotle] goes to explain that the law is made and applied by human beings so that even the law includes some elements of human desire” (p.157). [cf. similar thoughts of James Madison, a fan of Aristotle, in The Federalist Papers]
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Trott writes about Sapo, the secret security police in Sweden: This “institution preserves itself by acting illegally and then justifies this action by claiming self-defense….” (p.158). She continues: “Yet when institutions become biased in favor of themselves and their own existence, they invariably begin to subordinate the powerless, the very ones they are supposed to protect” (p.158).
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Trott touches on a very interesting topic about governmental institutions when she mentions Sweden’s guardianship agency – which legally maintains control over those adults deemed mentally “incompetent”. She writes that the agency’s “desire to maintain guardianship of Salander shows us how the institution’s self-preservation trumps the concern for the individual” (p.158).
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And as one example of the agency’s “doublespeak”, she quotes from the third novel where a guardianship agency official gives court testimony. The official states: “No-one is happier than we who work at the agency when a guardianship is rescinded.” Trott immediately points out that, “If that were so, however, then the agency would be happiest to put itself out of business” (p.159). [cf. Public Choice theory, where governmental officials of all kinds are analyzed as “economic actors” who try to maximize their positions of power via votes, political appointments, etc. Classical liberal James M. Buchanan (b.1919) won the Nobel Prize in Economics for his contributions to this theory. His book, co-authored with Gordon Tollock, The Calculus of Consent: Logical Foundations of Constitutional Democracy (1962) is a classic work on the theory; again, I first heard of this book through a review in Objectivist literature over four decades ago.]
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A couple of times Trott mentions Rousseau and his famous “will of the people” theme. [I always get uneasy when I hear it because of the depressing uses the concept had later from collectivists such as Marxists and Hitler.]
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Trott mentions Hannah Arendt’s criticism of the concept of “human rights” when it is ineffective whenever an institution does not apply protection to certain people (p.160). People who most need protection, such as Lisbeth, are not recognized by the very institutions that should be protecting them.
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In the discussion of the third volume of the trilogy, Trott frustrates me a bit when she asks a couple of questions: “Lisbeth has believed that speaking to the authorities was useless because they could not hear her. So why suddenly in the courtroom does she think that she can or will be heard? Has the institution been properly cleaned up? Why should Salander think so?” (p.161)
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This amazes me and makes me wonder how closely Trott has read The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest or grasped its spirit. I answer: In the courtroom, a public arena, Salander has proof -- powerful proof – that her adversaries are lying and are far in the wrong. She planned a brilliant defense – aided by Blomkvist, his sister Annika, the Hacker Republic, and a few authorities with integrity – which turned the institutional powers upside down. Yes, it is fiction, but please don’t disparage Salander’s intelligence. She is a heroine, and inspiration.
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Giving both Marx and contemporary feminists their due, Trott writes: “The idea that the structure of institutions and political life in general serves those in power comes from Karl Marx (1818-1883). Marx thought institutions serve the rich, propertied class, but feminist thinkers have taken up Marx’s analysis of political institutions to argue that institutions do indeed serve those in power, and men are those in power” (pp.161-2).
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These points are well taken. Marx’s critiques of institutional power structures have merit, although his determinism is too simplistic and ignores the possibilities of individuals’ intellectual independence – indeed, it makes his own experience, of his bourgeois upbringing which is turned into the role of revolutionary vanguard, seem theoretically impossible.
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Likewise, Trott’s marxian-feminist theories are very well presented with some valid points. Still, I think Salander would contemptuously tell her to “fuck off”, to stop whining and to stop acting like a victim. (Lisbeth says a couple of times, “There are no innocents. There are, however, different degrees of responsibilities.”)
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Really, Trott gives us a good feminist interpretation, although my own feminism is more of an individualist kind. (I could suggest – only half-jokingly – that a male equivalent of radical feminism might articulate itself someday – protesting some of the “female” aspects of governmental tyranny, e.g., the “nanny state” that wants to aggressively mother us all whether we want it or not.)
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Chapter 13: “Secret Meetings: the truth is in the gossip” by Karen C. Adkins
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Adkins writes (p.166) that “The word gossip has a negative connotation and is conventionally defined as spreading malicious (often false) information about someone who is absent.” She notes that it can be used by those in power to maintain power by destroying the reputation of those threatening the powerful.
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“Knowledge (especially through gossip) is power for Larsson – both for good and for ill” (p.166). “Larsson clearly defends gossip as a legitimate (even necessary) path to knowledge. Adkins points out that “some contemporary philosophers have sought to restore credibility to gossip, defending the possibility of loose talk producing real knowledge” (pp.166-7). She goes on to mention two philosophers who “defend gossip as knowledge producing in part because of its looseness” (p.167). She writes: “Gossip rests on a bedrock of trust….” The journalists and police in Larsson’s trilogy trade in information and need trustworthy sources. She sees an emphasis on trust in his novels far exceeding what would be found in other crime novels.
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Blomkvist, in Vol. 1, has his reputation shattered. Adkins writes that, “In the American legal context, reputation is valuable in part because it is seen as property” (p.167). Reputations are affected by legal judgments but also through gossip. Lisbeth Salander, the expert hacker, says that, “Everyone has secrets”, but she is very careful about revealing them (p.169). So is her security agency boss, Armansky, who draws a moral line between legitimate business secrets and private lives.
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In her section, “The Grapevine Goes Digital”, Adkins reminds us that in the internet information age, personal diary-type information can be dug up and published widely. She writes that that Larsson’s world of hacker electronic rumor sharing as a resistance tool “is a new historical phenomenon only in its scale and technology” (p.171). She gives examples of oppressed communities that have used gossip against those in power: e.g., in colonial India rumor spreading helped organize resistance, etc.
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One big difference between traditional oral and printed political gossip is that trust is not needed at all on the internet. “Oral gossip and rumor rely on some basic trust in the reliability of one’s source; newspaper gossip carries with it the reputation of the journalist. By contrast, it’s very easy to set up an anonymous website, and forwarding a gossipy link carries with it less ethical freight than does spreading a rumor” (p.171).
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Re: Hacker Republic. It is a closed community with identities vague, but it has “core values”, e.g., not spreading viruses but rather being info junkies.
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Adkins writes about the controlling of one’s reputation as culture moved from the more intimate spoken/oral culture, which is most based on trust, to print culture. She mentions the work of Walter Ong, who wrote that this transition to written/literate culture led to the development of a “private self”, often distinct from the traditional public self. Private diaries were then created. (Walter Ong, 1982, Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word)
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Adkins writes that now internet gossiping and rumor, with its infinite shareability, has no bounds. Therefore: The Grapevine Goes Digital.
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In Larsson’s trilogy, the evil powers use gossip and rumor to convict Lisbeth Salander before she is even captured. Adkins compares this to the medieval witch hunts, where gossip marked a woman as a witch and sealed her fate. The infamous Malleus Maleficarum (“The Witch’s Hammer”) is mentioned, the Christian church’s manual on demonology, c.1486 (p.173). The police label Lisbeth as a Satanic lesbian cultist, and this gossip goes viral. Adkins likens it to “a modern, Internet-enhanced witch hunt” (p.174). She writes about the dynamics of power politics when it comes down to the usage of gossip.
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She also points out that Larsson mentions “Trust capital” as a fundamental requirement for professional life, especially for a journalist like Blomkvist. If your trust capital is perceived to be high, people will bank on you; if it is low, they won’t.
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Adkins writes of Larsson’s focus on “friendship as a (potentially) ideal space that can transcend power conflicts” where gossip is concerned. She says that this in line with feminist interpretations of gossip that “ground its legitimacy in intimacy – we gossip only with those whom we know well and trust” (p.174).
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Adkins ends her essay with this: “To trust someone fully, to confide in someone fully, requires a reciprocal exchange of sharing secrets. Psssst. Pass it on” (p.175). The trilogy itself ends with a kind of treaty of trust – “he knew her secrets just as she knew all of his” (Vol.3, quoted in Adkins p.175).
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Part Five: 75,000 Volts of Vengeance Can’t Be Wrong, Can It?
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Chapter 14: “The Principled Pleasure: Lisbeth’s Aristotelian Revenge”, by Emma L.E. Rees
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Rees points out Lisbeth Salander’s “brutal revenge on Advocat Nils Bjurman”, and asks if there is something wrong with us for being emotionally attached to someone (Lisbeth) who could do this. Then she analyzes Salander’s revenge in light of Aristotle’s thoughts on the subject (p.181), quoting from his writings on ethics and rhetoric.
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One of Salander’s goals when she deals decisively with Bjurman is to achieve independence from him and from the unjust control he has over her by the guardianship order. Another goal is revenge.
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Aristotle wrote that: “passion and anger are the causes of acts of revenge. But there is a difference between revenge and punishment; the latter is inflicted in the interest of the sufferer, the former in the interest of him who inflicts it, that he may obtain satisfaction” (p.183, from Aristotle, The “Art” of Rhetoric).
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Rees asks what it says about us as readers when we also take pleasure in seeing Lisbeth get her revenge. She points out that Salander “is avenging herself and protecting other women (just as Larsson hoped he was doing by writing his books)” (p.183). Rees notes that Aristotle says that for an act to be revenge, rather than punishment, the person receiving the revenge must know who is attacking him and why (p.185).
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Rees says that an Aristotelian viewpoint would see that Salander’s “brutal act of revenge is the only rational, logical choice she can make for the sake of her future happiness. Such happiness is impossible in an Aristotelian sense while she’s subject to the guardianship order, because independence is key to emotional security and well-being” (p.185).
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On page 186 Rees writes (including a quote from Aristotle): “The ultimate goal for Lisbeth is to move from humiliation to a state of Aristotelian eudaimonia (happiness; a life worth living). ‘The very existence of the state [eudaimonia] depends on proportionate reciprocity’, Aristotle told us, ‘for men demand that they shall be able to requite evil with evil – if they cannot, they feel they are in the position of slaves.’ Revenge seen in these terms is a social and moral obligation: we will be condemned to servility if we do not take revenge.”
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In light of our delight after Lisbeth gets her revenge, Aristotle’s words (from The “Art” of Rhetoric) ring true: “We praise a man who feels anger on the right grounds and against the right persons, and also in the right manner and at the right moment and for the right length of time.” Delicious!
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Chapter 15: “Acting Out of Duty or Just Acting Out?: Salander and Kant”, by Tanja Barazon
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Barazon examines Lisbeth Salander’s moral standards by comparing them with those of Immanuel Kant (1724-1804).
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In Barazon’s paraphrase of one of Kant’s important moral principles, “…I should never follow a rule of behavior that I couldn’t rationally will everyone else to follow” (p.189). I.e., you should only act as if that principle behind your action should be a universal moral law for everyone to follow.
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The criminal wants to be protected from any coercive actions against his own self, but his hypocrisy is that he thinks of himself as an exception and that he may victimize others. Laws against coercion protect him, but he thinks he is above the law. Lisbeth shares with Kant a contempt for this hypocrisy of criminals. The villains in these novels are capable of rationality, yet they see themselves as exceptions to rules and laws for ordinary people. E.g., Martin Vanger reasons that he has entitlement to “the godlike feeling of having absolute control over someone’s life and death” (Vol.1).
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Kant elevated “duty” to a high position in his moral system; to him it is far superior to doing anything for self-interest or pleasure. But as Barazon puts it: “Lisbeth repeatedly commits immoral acts for her own pleasure. She didn’t start hacking into people’s computers out of moral duty; she hacks because she likes it”
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Yet Salander occasionally acts toward moral purposes beyond her own immediate self-interest, and Blomkvist understands this. E.g., she throws herself into tracking down a serial killer of women.
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Kant also said that people should each be an end unto themselves rather than being treated as a mere means to achieve the ends of others. Barazon points out that Salander and others in the stories are often treated as mere means to the ends of the villains. E.g., Zalachenko misuses everyone this way, Salander’s mother, his son, etc. In turn, Sapo (the secret police) use him, Gullberg even killing him for the “good” of the Section and Sweden.
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Further, Barazon writes that, “Free will and free choice are two essential elements of Kant’s moral theory” (p.195). Kant valued individual autonomy as a necessity for a person to be considered as a moral agent. Then she startled me by writing, “Kant opposed welfare systems because they limit personal autonomy and treat people as if they were children, unable to care for themselves” (p.195). (I had never before known of this libertarian aspect of Kant, probably because of my early contact with Ayn Rand’s total contempt for Kant, perhaps some of it but not all of it justified.) Barazon writes: “As Kant was, Lisbeth is a champion of autonomy” (p.195).
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Barazon tells us that Kant had stated that we must never lie to anyone and that we cannot morally lie even to a murderer (p.196). She then writes that the great classical liberal Benjamin Constant (1767-1830) responded to Kant’s thesis here by holding that only someone worthy of the truth should put us under obligation to tell the truth (p.196). As Salander had said, “a bastard is always a bastard, and if I can hurt a bastard by digging up shit about him, then he deserves it.”
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Barazon finishes her essay with this: “Lisbeth may not inspire us in the pursuit of moral perfection, but there is something deeply human and endearing about her. She does not offer herself as a paragon of morality. Like the rest of us, Salander is a work in progress” (p.196).
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Chapter 16: “To Catch a Thief: The Ethics of Deceiving Bad People”, by James Edwin Mahon [This is the last chapter in the book.]
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Mahon brings in the ideas of English philosopher J.L. Austin (1911-1960) and some of his thoughts in the late-1950s in the British Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society.
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Mahon points out that Lisbeth Salander lies while under oath at her trial. She leaves out details that – however “justified” – would leave her vulnerable to prosecution for perjury. Mahon always challenges us to judge these breaches of legality by our heroes/heroines in the trilogy.
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[Rant]: My own position on this is close to Benjamin Constant’s (in Chapter 15 above) – that unjust laws are lies themselves, and they do not deserve the respect of “telling the truth” if that would play into the hands of tyrannical government agents. E.g., in the 1970s I self-medicated myself with several substances that were arbitrarily labeled “illegal” by those in power; if I harm others by my ingestion of these substances then I have trespassed against them; if I have not harmed anyone, let me be! “I’ll tolerate your hobbies if you tolerate mine” (Robert Anton Wilson). [/rant]
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Mahon writes that, “Indeed, it is possible to read the novels as saying that people may be lied to and deceived, for the right reasons.” (p.198)
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Continuing, he writes that “Both Mikael Blomkvist and Lisbeth Salander battle against those with power and money who lie to and deceive others. Yet both Blomkvist and Salander repeatedly lie and deceive. Blomkvist lies in order to obtain information, withholds information from the authorities, and deceives those who spy on him and (illegally) monitor him. Salander routinely violates the privacy of others, hacking into their financial records and private communications. She engages in fraud, theft, and assault, and lies about it to the authorities, even when the criminals are being brought to justice. Her rationale is that ‘there are no innocents’.” (Pp.198-9)
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Mahon asks: “Did Larsson believe it was justified for Salander and Blomkvist to lie to and deceive bad people who are perpetrating crimes, in order to catch them? In any case, are such actions justified? Or, if they are not justified, are they at least excusable?” (p.199) He continues:
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“British philosopher J.L. Austin (1911-1960) argued that when someone is accused of doing something wrong, bad, or inept, there are two ways in which he or she can defend this conduct. The first is to accept full responsibility for the action but to deny that it was wrong, bad, or inept. To do this is to justify the action, to hold that it was, in fact, the right thing to do. On this account, the action was permissible or even obligatory. The second way to defend the conduct is to agree that the action was wrong, bad, or inept, but to accept only partial responsibility for the action, or even none at all. To do this is to excuse the action, to hold that one is not (fully, or partly) to blame for how one acted. Consider an example. If I shout at a child, then my action may be justified (the child was about to touch a hot stove) or excusable (I have been unable to sleep for days, and the child is making a racket).” (p.199)
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Mahon continues: “The question, therefore, is whether the lies and deceptions of Blomkvist and Salander are justified or excusable – or neither” (p.199).
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Blomkvist lies or allows falsehoods to be understood to get info from Bjorck, a secret service official who has committed crimes and has conspired to violate Salander’s rights. No guilt is felt by Blomkvist. Is his lying and double-cross of Bjorck excusable, or is it, further, justified? In volume three of the trilogy, Blomkvist knows his home phone and cell phone are bugged by the (now villainous) secret police. He feels guiltless, and he feeds them disinformation just as they would do. In a review of Larsson’s trilogy, the great South American writer Mario Vargas Llosa – an enthusiastic admirer of Salander and Blomkvist – calls them “two vigilantes” (quoted on p.206).
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Salander and Blomkvist have great dialogues at times (especially in volume one), debating the ethics of investigative journalists vs. those of hackers. Blomkvist stresses that “we journalists have an ethics committee that keeps track of the moral issues.” (p.205)
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Salander replies that she has comparable principles: “I call them Salander’s Principles” (quoted on pp.205-6).
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Mahon does a fine analysis of the complexities of her principles and actions, as well as those of other characters. I will not discuss the rest of the good points he makes, but I will recommend his essay highly.
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My Summary of the book: As always, books like this on philosophy and pop culture are very rich, instructive, and enjoyable. My intensive studies of philosophy were decades ago, so these books bring new material to my attention and help keep me in touch with the discipline as an amateur. Finding philosophical minds that enjoy some of the same books and movies as I do is a great pleasure.
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Lisbeth Salander would just leaf casually through this book once and memorize the whole thing, and Mikael Blomkvist would come down hard on the weaknesses of my writing technique in the above review. It is not nearly as easy for me, but for me it was a pure labor of love to read and review this volume.
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Caveat: I have typed this directly from handwritten notes, and due to limited computer time I have not been able to triple check my review draft against the book. The book deserves better. Sorry.
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-Zenwind.
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