FinermanWorks

I read the Chicago Tribune for the funnies and the grocery ads.  (You wouldn’t want me to miss an ice cream sale!)  In deference to my blood pressure, I avoid the Trib’s op-ed page–it is always FDR’s fault–but I have no real dread of the movie reviews.  Perhaps I should.  Today’s review of “Young Victoria” left me sputtering.

Either the film recast Albert’s nationality or the reviewer did.  He is described as a Belgian prince.  In fact–if facts have any relevance–Albert was a German duke.  His name Saxe-Coburg-Gotha infers the family’s connection with Saxony; they used to own it.  (But that is another story, which I don’t mind repeating: https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2009/06/30/the-waiting-game-2/ )

 The reviewer also compares Victoria and Albert to Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy.  Well, Tracy and Victoria were both squat,  and if Hepburn had been constrained and humorless she could have been Albert.  But a more apt comparison would be to Lucy and Desi.  Let’s work on the pilot of “I Love Vicky”:

She is earnest but not terribly bright; he is intellectual, puritanical and foreign. She adores him, and he lets her…and she does have her way. There are nine children. The oldest daughter, Vicky, is Miss Perfect; she is practically her father in drag. The oldest son, Bertie, is a classic goof and party-animal; he is the despair of his father. Of course, Vicky and Al also have some zany neighbors: Lou and Genie Bonaparte. (Lou is a rogue who always coming up with some get-rich-quick scheme, such as trying to setting up an empire in Mexico. He is the despair of his wife–who is dumb but gorgeous.)

 Unfortunately, during the 22nd season of “I Love Vicky“, Albert does a John Ritter. There are a series of guest male leads to keep Victoria busy for the next 39 seasons. Among the guest stars are the charming, hilarious Ben Disraeli and the impossibly pompous William Gladstone. Of course, Bertie is still undermining the Victorian household; he now is a serial adulterer. And his oldest son may be Jack the Ripper. The oldest daughter, the perfect Vicky, has produced a perfect monster for a child: Willie to his grandmother, Kaiser Wilhelm to his subjects.

That is the basic outline. If we market it to cable, we’ll have to include nude scenes.

p.s.  And let’s not forget the historic significance of this day:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2008/12/18/december-18th-mishapsburgs/

JERRY FALWELL’S FIRST DAY IN HEAVEN: a Memoir

“That sure was a surprise. I thought that Hillary Clinton would have killed me in a Satanic ritual. All those doctors did warn about cholesterol–but who would believe a Jew?

“How long have I been waiting in front of these Pearly Gates? Isn’t there an Express Line for Christians? If only my good friend St. Peter were here; I just learned that he retired in 1957. Professor Einstein is now in charge. I didn’t understand a word he said about the wait. Time space something and relativity. But I sure don’t appreciate being called Anti-Matter.

You know, Einstein’s type just doesn’t seem right here. I’m gonna to talk to Jesus about better casting. I’m surprised that Cecil B. DeMille didn’t complain.

Well, it’s about time. The Gates are opening and here is St. Paul to personally guide me. He insists I freshen up; I had no idea that there were saunas in Heaven. And he tells me that there are no golf courses here. Golf is only in Purgatory. Paul certainly is friendly…oh Jesus, this is a Gay Bath House!

So this is my choice. I can stay in Heaven as a bath house attendant or I can go to…”

JERRY FALWELL’S FIRST DAY IN HELL

“Hello. New York Times customer service. This is Jerry.”

Christmas has not succumbed to marketing. It was conceived in marketing. The very date–December 25th–was the choice of a fourth century focus group. No one knows the actual date of Jesus’ birth; in fact, we can only estimate the year–sometime between 4 B.C. and 8 B.C.

By the early second century, in between persecutions, Christian scholars flaunted their erudition by mathematically and theologically calculating the specific date of Jesus’ birth. Some of them concluded that Jesus was born in January, April, May or June. There was a general consensus that he died in March or April; the Gospels did provide some basis for that deduction. Based on this assumption, some over-educated Greek Christians felt that there should be a mathematic formulaic congruity in Jesus’ life; in their calculations, if Jesus died in March or April he must have been born in December or January. (I can’t follow that logic; it’s a Greek thing.)

The idea of a December birth may have been intellectually absurd, yet it was very practical. Late December was a traditional time of celebration in the ancient world. Pagans celebrated the Winter Solstice and the Saturnalia; December 25th was honored as the Day of the Invincible Sun. Until the early fourth century, the Church was subject to periodic persecution. The faithful could mask their celebration of Jesus’ birth amidst the pagan antics. Furthermore, the Christian minority would have the psychological crutch of having its own holiday, the same solace that Jews now find in Hanukkah.

That Christian sense of inferiority ended with the conversion of the Emperor Constantine (A.D. 306-337) and his decided favoritism. Christianity was the new state religion. Yet, the majority of the Empire’s population–75 percent–was pagan. That was a lot of people to convert. Constantine’s coercion made a certain impact but the Church also relied on its gift for marketing. The celebration of Christmas on December 25th helped win the more extroverted pagans who were fond of their Winter Solstice parties. “Hey, who said that Christianity isn’t fun! You can have eternal salvation and a birthday party for the Savior.”

And since then, the official policy has been to celebrate December 25th as Jesus’ birthday.

December 15, 1859:  Ludwig–well, really Eliezer–Zamenhof is born.

Ludwig Zamenhof, the creator of Esperanto, was already conversant in one international language, and he thought that Gentiles might like their own equivalent of Yiddish.

How international was Yiddish? In his autobiography, Edward G. Robinson recounted the time that he met Leon Trotsky in Mexico. How did the Rumanian-born actor converse with the Ukrainian-born revolutionary? Emanuel Goldenberg and David Bronstein had a language in common.

Unlike Yiddish, however, Esperanto is said to be deficient for expressing emotions, rational to the point of sterility.  Perhaps from his experiences with Poles and Russians, Zamenhof preferred Gentiles not to express themselves emotionally. What is the Esperantese for ‘pogrom”?  Zamenhof never imagined what emotionless Germans could do. Unfortunately, all of his children found out.

Thought I

It must be Christmas. I am seeing Chia commercials, but I am a little disappointed that the manufacturers have not come out with the Chia Nativity Scene:

Today’s Tantrum:

Tonight I plan to watch “Doubt.”  I want to compare a priest’s abuse of children with choir practice at my synagogue.  Yes, having a good voice and worse vanity, I was lured into joining the choir.  Since I can’t read music or Hebrew, you can imagine the choir’s exacting standards.  But if you can clear your throat in rhythm, no one will know the difference.

Last night, making my debut, I pondered one of the great mysteries of Judaism.  Why is it easier to develop an atomic bomb than a good Hanukkah song?  It took two years for the boychiks of Los Alamos to harness the chain-reaction; in 2000 years we have yet to compose a Hanukkah song that doesn’t appall any sentient adult.  We are not a tone-deaf people.  Every gentile on Tin Pan Alley could be counted on the fingers of a three-toed sloth–and the sloth would still have three paws free for knitting a tallith. 

 We have such a surplus that we lend ourselves to other ethnic groups.  For “West Side Story”, Leonard Bernstein is the greatest Puerto Rican composer.  And do I need to mention who wrote many of our most popular Christmas songs?  “White Christmas” perhaps expressed Irving Berlin’s relief that his blood wasn’t on the snow.

But Hanukkah?  I think that even George Gershwin admitted the exasperation:  “But Not For Me.”

And let’s not forget the historical significance of this day:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2008/12/12/apocalypse-then-december-12-627/

December 11, 1936:  A Love Story

It is so gratifying when two rotten people find each other, a true meeting of the heartless. Otherwise, they might be afflicting the lives of more innocuous souls. In the case of Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David Windsor (nee Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David Saxe-Coburg-Gotha) he would have been ruining an entire nation.

If the British throne were reserved for the greatest upper class twit of the day, Edward VIII was indeed the rightful king. He had impeccable taste in clothing and complete distaste for democracy, tolerance, and any other manifestation of intelligence. In fact, he could not even master the well-mannered hypocrisy to mask his royal snits. As the Prince of Wales, he travelled throughout the Empire and generously conferred his racist opinions of the very people he was visiting. When a guest at a home, he expected the hostess to offer to sleep with him. However, he looked so good in his clothing that the infatuated Press and public never cared to delve beneath that dapper surface.

Since women were always throwing themselves at him, it is remarkable that a homely American social-climber made so great an impression on his self-satisfied mind. Bessie Wallis Warfield wanted to rise in the world and had the predatory talent to do it. The impoverished Baltimore girl won scholarships to the best schools, but her aim was not the education but the social contacts. That acquired cachet and its admission into better circles afforded her marriage into the minor gentry; from there, she progressed to a second marriage into the nouveau riche. (Mr. Simpson’s family name was originally Samuels; at least he and his wife had social-climbing in common.) But Wallis Simpson aspired to old money, and the heir to the British throne certainly had that.

They met in 1934, and she quickly established herself as his mistress. No one then or now can explain how a homely, married American could have so completely enthralled the Prince of Wales. His mother, the Queen, conjectured that Mrs. Simpson was a sexual contortionist. (Of course, to Queen Mary, that could describe anything beyond the missionary position.) Others have speculated that Wallis Simpson bullied him and gratified some masochistic quirks. They did share a vicious, selfish nature with a soft spot for pug dogs. We can only speculate. Love is blind, probably from a veneral disease.

After the death of his father in 1936, the prince, now Edward VIII, let it be known that he intended to marry Mrs. Simpson and have her reign as Queen. The British government opposed it. Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin could ignore Hitler but not this affront to good taste. Everything was wrong about the twice-married American social climber, including the fact that she had yet to divorce Mr. Simpson. If the King persisted, then Baldwin threatened to resign. Nor was the King finding any support from the royal family; the people who knew him best liked him least.   And the Press too had finally noticed the King’s behavior. His tantrums didn’t wear as well as his clothing.

So, since he could not rule “with the woman I love”, Edward abdicated the throne and left Britain. Wallis finally got a divorce but not a king; she had to settle for a Duke. Nonetheless, the newly-wed Duke and Duchess of Windsor did have friends. American tabloids were touched by such a love story. There also was that nice little Herr Hitler; in fact, he even expressed a hope to put Edward back on Britain’s throne. The Duke and Duchess would frequently express their appreciation of that thoughtful Herr Hitler. (So Winston Churchill put them unofficially under house arrest in the Bahamas.)

But the Duke and the Duchess lived happily–well-dressed, selfish and vacuous–ever after.

This is the anniversary of his abdication. And history remembers it as the only decent thing that he ever did.

December 10, 1508:  Everyone Hates Venice

If Pope Alexander VI had a dispute with the Doge of Venice, it is likely that the Venetian leader would have suddenly succumbed to an inexplicable case of  food poisoning.  Pope Julius II was not quite so subtle; he did have a dispute with the Doge, so he plunged Europe into war.  His Holiness organized an alliance, known as the League of Cambrai, on this day in 1508. France, Spain, the Holy Roman Empire and the Papal States were arrayed against the Venetian Republic. Venice discovered the disadvantage of being small and rich. Of course, all those riches did allow the Republic to field armies of mercenaries; so at least Venice was not completely defenseless. Nonetheless, the coalition was overwhelming–and Venice was losing ground–especially to France.

Now, the French wanted to keep all that they had won. They were not good at sharing, and considering that they were guests in Italy, the Pope was especially offended. So Julius decided in 1510 to switch sides and ally the Papal States with Venice. It took Spain and the Holy Roman Empire about a year to figure out which side that they were on, but they eventually joined the war against France. Of course, England never had any doubts–it was just Anti-French and young Henry VIII wanted to play soldier. So if England was on one side, then Scotland had to be on the other.

The Italian alliances, however, lacked that kind of clarity. More of a soldier than a theologian, Pope Julius was able to maintain the Anti-French alliance despite the conflicting interests of the theoretical allies. (The Hapsburgs proved just as bad guests as the French). Unfortunately, in 1513 Julius was 69–and he acted his age. His successor Leo X was no soldier or diplomat (but he would have made a good host for an art series on PBS); he did not like the Hapsburgs but was too lethargic and maladroit to curb their expansion. A frustrated and endangered Venice had no alternative but irony; in 1513 it switched sides and allied with France.

(So, here is a summary of the alliances: first, everyone against Venice; then, everyone against France; finally, France and Venice against everyone else.)

Surprisingly, that last combination actually worked. The Hapsburgs were driven back–at least for a few years–and Northern Italy was left in the hands of the French and the Venetians. Pope Leo did not care; as it turned out, he was Pro-French, too. Besides, his Holiness apparently was preoccupied in organizing an alliance of Northern Europe against the Church; if so, that worked too.

December 7, 1941:  A Date Which Will Embarrass Sony

So, why did Japan attack America?  Was it vengeance for “Madame Butterfly”?  While that attack certainly would have been justified–how dare that tenor cad Lieutenant Pinkerton abandon his devoted, pregnant geisha–Japan would have had just as much reason to attack Italy.  Imagine 300 Japanese planes bombing La Scala; the problem would be scheduling the attack for the right opera.  The strategy only works for “Madame Butterfly.”  An attack during a performance of “Aida” might not even be noticed; the Japanese bombers would be upstaged by the parade of elephants.  The bombing of “Turandot” might be considered a welcome and light-hearted distraction for the public.  (Puccini died before finishing “Turandot”, and so usually does the audience.)

Japan really was outraged by the Immigration Act of 1924, which completely banned further entry to America by any Asians.  The Japanese agreed that the Chinese, Filipinos, Indians and the rest were inferior; but seeing themselves as the rightful masters of Asia,  the Japanese expected more deferential treatment.  Yet, that affront to Japanese dignity, while not forgotten, did not incite the war with America.

No, the reason for attacking Pearl Harbor was to conquer Indonesia.  Rube Goldberg could have been a samurai tactician.  To conquer China, Japan needed gasoline.  Indonesia–then known as the Dutch East Indies–was the closest source of petroleum in Asia.  Rather than haggle over petroleum exports, the Japanese simply preferred to seize the entire Dutch colony.  But the Netherlands were allied to Britain, and the British base in Singapore offered substantial protection to the Dutch East Indies.  So Singapore would have to be taken before Japan could secure the Dutch East Indies and its oil fields.  War with Britain was inevitable.  (If only those damn oil fields had been in French Indo-China, its colonial administrators were collaborating with the Germans and would also have accommodated the Japanese.)  But Britain was allied to the United States, and so a war with America would seem inevitable.  But a fair fight against the American giant was impossible; besides the Samurai Code really did not require fairness or even a declaration of war.  So Japanese would launch a surprise attack on the American bases in the Pacific, in order to attack Singapore, in order to seize the Dutch East Indies, in order to keep slaughtering the Chinese.

And the Japanese plan worked.  However, the Japanese may have underestimated how the Americans would respond.  In hindsight, bombing La Scala would have been wiser.

And from the archives, another event on this day: https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2008/12/07/december-7th-valet-forge/

Yesterday, I indulged my Turner Classic Movie addiction by watching “Angels With Dirty Faces.”  Yes, I had seen the 1938 classic before; but that was so long ago that most of the cast was still alive then.  I imagine that you are familiar with the film, whether having actually it seen or the many parodies and commercials it inspired.  Here, for any Amish hermits among you, here is a summary:

Two roughneck teenagers from the tenements of New York take divergent paths while maintaining a devoted friendship.  One becomes the gangster James Cagney while the other becomes the priest Pat O’Brien.   Fearing that Cagney’s charisma will have a corrupting effect on the teenage boys in the parish, O’Brien helps send his friend to the electric chair.  Don’t worry–it never effects their friendship; in fact, Cagney guns down Humphrey Bogart for even suggesting that Father O’Brien be rubbed out.  Yes, the plot seems ridiculous but Cagney’s charisma has such a corrupting effect on the audience that we are irretrievably hooked.

Of course, viewing the film in a modern perspective, we are entitled to some doubts.  The gangster may be corrupting the Dead End Kids with booze and gambling; but that would be quite innocuous compared to what the priest might be doing.  (Pat O’Brien and Huntz Hall–no, the very image defies description…)

And, if the film were made today, the sociopathic Irish kid would forgo a more respectable life of crime and be a commentator on Fox.

 p.s. Let’s not forget the historic significance of this day:  https://finermanworks.com/your_rda_of_irony/2008/12/05/finding-a-good-scapegoat/