Monday, 23 May 2011
Rebellion and Authority - An Analytic Essay on Insurgent Conflicts (1970)
Economic reasoning applied to an analysis of rebellion and authority yields some new conclusions about both. Fundamentally, the struggle for popular support is not exclusively or primarily a "political" contest as these terms are usually understood. People act rationally, calculate costs and benefits, and choose sides accordingly. Successful rebels act on this assumption, applying discriminate force, coercing the populace into cooperation or compliance, and "proving" authority to be not merely unjust, but a certain loser. Rebellion is a system and an organizational technique. It can be countered, but not with rhetoric aimed at winning hearts and minds, and not necessarily with economic pump-priming. What is needed is organizational techniques to match the rebel drive -- effective intelligence coupled with a discriminating use of force capable of obtaining compliance from the population. One major caveat: authorities are not invariably worthy of support from within or without, and careful calculation of ultimate interests should guide U.S. policy on this point.
@'RAND'
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@'RAND'
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The Musalman - Preservation of a Dream
The 'Musalman' is probably the last handwritten newspaper in the world. It has been published and read every day in South India's Chennai since 1927 in almost the same form. In the shadow of the Wallajah Mosque in Chennai, a team of six die hard workers still put out this hand-penned paper. Four of them are katibs -- writers dedicated to the ancient art of Urdu calligraphy. It's tough for the die-hard artists of Urdu calligraphy.
Low: Tiny Desk Concert
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It's been fascinating to watch the evolution of the Duluth, Minn., band Low in the 17 years since the release of its wonderful debut album, I Could Live in Hope. Renowned for being one of the slowest and quietest acts in indie-rock, Low has nevertheless found ways to experiment with new ways to sound alternately (and even simultaneously) swoony and unnerving.
Still, in spite of its members' detours into more jagged terrain — 2007's prickly Drums and Guns, singer Alan Sparhawk's rock 'n' roll side project Retribution Gospel Choir — Low returns to sweet-voiced gentility on its recent C'mon. That album's opening track, "Try to Sleep," opens this short set at the NPR Music offices, and damned if it isn't one of the best songs of the group's career; a perfect mixture of sunny charm and lyrical portent. ("Don't look at the camera," Sparhawk sings with wife and drummer Mimi Parker, adding, "Try to sleep.")
With just Sparhawk, Parker and an acoustic guitar at its disposal — many bassists have come and gone over the years, and none made this trip — Low still kept its core ingredients intact at the Tiny Desk. Clearly awake earlier than usual for an 11 a.m. set time, the pair nevertheless blended the way they always do, with Parker's pristine voice hovering over Sparhawk's froggy croon. They seem worn and a little weary throughout these three songs from C'mon, but the beauty persists
Stephen Thompson @'npr'
It's been fascinating to watch the evolution of the Duluth, Minn., band Low in the 17 years since the release of its wonderful debut album, I Could Live in Hope. Renowned for being one of the slowest and quietest acts in indie-rock, Low has nevertheless found ways to experiment with new ways to sound alternately (and even simultaneously) swoony and unnerving.
Still, in spite of its members' detours into more jagged terrain — 2007's prickly Drums and Guns, singer Alan Sparhawk's rock 'n' roll side project Retribution Gospel Choir — Low returns to sweet-voiced gentility on its recent C'mon. That album's opening track, "Try to Sleep," opens this short set at the NPR Music offices, and damned if it isn't one of the best songs of the group's career; a perfect mixture of sunny charm and lyrical portent. ("Don't look at the camera," Sparhawk sings with wife and drummer Mimi Parker, adding, "Try to sleep.")
With just Sparhawk, Parker and an acoustic guitar at its disposal — many bassists have come and gone over the years, and none made this trip — Low still kept its core ingredients intact at the Tiny Desk. Clearly awake earlier than usual for an 11 a.m. set time, the pair nevertheless blended the way they always do, with Parker's pristine voice hovering over Sparhawk's froggy croon. They seem worn and a little weary throughout these three songs from C'mon, but the beauty persists
Stephen Thompson @'npr'
William Burroughs' colour walks
“Another exercise that is very effective is walking on colors. Pick out all the reds on a street, focusing only on red objects–brick, lights, sweaters, signs. Shift to green, blue, orange, yellow. Notice how the colors begin to stand out more sharply of their own accord. I was walking on yellow when I saw a yellow amphibious jeep near the corner of 94th Street and Central Park West. It was called the Thing. This reminded me of the Thing I knew in Mexico. He was nearly seven feet tall and had played the Thing in a horror movie of the same name, and everybody called him the Thing, though his name was James Arness. I hadn’t thought about the Thing in twenty years, and would not have thought about him except walking on yellow at that particular moment.”
(From “Ten Years and a Billion Dollars” William S. Burroughs in The Adding Machine: Selected Essays, Arcade Publishing, New York, 1985)
“For example, I was taking a color walk around Paris the other day…doing something I picked up from your pictures in which the colors shoot out all through the canvas like they do in the street. I was walking town the boulevard when I suddenly felt this cool wind on a warm day and when I looked out all through the canvas like they do in the street. I was walking down the boulevard when I looked out I was seeing all the blues in the street in front of me, blue on a foulard…blue on a young workman’s ass…his blue jeans…a girl’s blue sweater…blue neon…the sky…all the blues. When I looked again I saw nothing but all the reds of traffic lights…car lights…a café sign…a man’s nose. Your paintings make me see the streets of Paris in a different way. And then there are all the deserts and the Mayan masks and the fantastic aerial architecture of your bridges and catwalks and Ferris wheels.”
(Burroughs, from an interview with Brion Gysin in 1960)
@'Word Object'
(From “Ten Years and a Billion Dollars” William S. Burroughs in The Adding Machine: Selected Essays, Arcade Publishing, New York, 1985)
“For example, I was taking a color walk around Paris the other day…doing something I picked up from your pictures in which the colors shoot out all through the canvas like they do in the street. I was walking town the boulevard when I suddenly felt this cool wind on a warm day and when I looked out all through the canvas like they do in the street. I was walking down the boulevard when I looked out I was seeing all the blues in the street in front of me, blue on a foulard…blue on a young workman’s ass…his blue jeans…a girl’s blue sweater…blue neon…the sky…all the blues. When I looked again I saw nothing but all the reds of traffic lights…car lights…a café sign…a man’s nose. Your paintings make me see the streets of Paris in a different way. And then there are all the deserts and the Mayan masks and the fantastic aerial architecture of your bridges and catwalks and Ferris wheels.”
(Burroughs, from an interview with Brion Gysin in 1960)
@'Word Object'
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