"I wish I'd never been to bloody Memphis."

A bit of a frivolous post today. You see, I've locked myself out of the house, and I'm stuck for something to do for the next twenty minutes. So I thought I'd draw your attention to one of my favourite Priministerial (my own word) myths: the Memphis Trousers Affair.

It's not really a myth, but more of an amusing anecdote that has acquired an air of mystique. The story is simple, and goes like this:

Malcolm Fraser, former Australian PM, and a man of undeniable gravitas and decorum, was visiting the USA three years after his election loss to Bob Hawke. He was there in his capacity as chairman of the Commonwealth Eminent Persons Group. His presence would have barely elicited interest, were it not for the fact that he was found wandering in the lobby of his hotel, clad only in a towel. And that he was in a dazed and confused state. And that he had lost his trousers. And that his hotel, the Admiral Benbow Inn, was of the type preferred by society's seedier individuals.

The 'Memphis Trousers Affair', as it became known, has become steeped in mystery, since Mr Fraser himself refuses to comment on the episode. Those who witnessed the former Australian premier wandering, pantsless, around a Tennesseean hotel, are of the opinion that he was most probably drugged by a lady of the night, who then stole his trousers; or that he was the victim of an elaborate practical joke by his colleagues on the commonwealth junket.

This begs several questions. If the former occurred:-

1) Why did the woman steal his trousers?
2) How did she drug a former Australian Prime Minister?
3) Where are the trousers now?

If the latter:-

1) How do you become a member of the Eminent Persons Group, if you are capable of stealing another man's trousers for the purpose of humiliating him?
2) Where are the trousers now?

I could go on analyising this story, but I just love re-telling it. I'd welcome any other amusing priministerial anecdotes too.

Quantum Theory

Those people who know me are probably well aware that I'm something of a James Bond tragic. Whether its Sean, George, Roger, Tim, Pierce, or Daniel appearing in the film, I suck them down like three measures of gin, plus one of vodka, poured over half a measure of Kina Lillet, shaken till ice-cold, and served with a large, thin slice of lemon peel.

I watched Quantum of Solace today. Great movie, with plenty of bone-crushing fight scenes, pant-searingly awesome chases, sexy, sultry women, and another ice-cool performance from Daniel Craig.

The bad guys in the film are a bunch of shadowy transnational terrorists known as Quantum. Not your Al-Qaeda types, but white guys in suits with lots of guns and money.

Now, a few years ago, I wrote my History Honours thesis on the first 19 Bond films. I analysed the historical accuracy of each one, especially in regards to how they dealt with the pressing geopolitical issues of the time.

The myth was that Bond was the ultimate Cold Warrior, the perfect defender of the capitalist West: wealthy, educated, sophisticated - a jet-setting executive supplied with all the technological marvels the capitalist boffins could muster.

However, once I watched the movies again, I realised how far from the truth this was. Far from being an ideological defender of the faith, Bond is actually a defender of the status quo. He does not go out seeking trouble with the villain of the moment - Communist Russia, Red China, the Ayatollah's Iran, or Osama's foot soldiers. He reacts when the globe's stability is threatened - usually by a lone maniac, or imaginary terrorist organisation. He neutralises the threat, so that the world can get back to where it was before - even if that means going back to having the West and the East fighting a Cold War.

As an example: Bond did not directly battle a representative of the Russian government until nineteen years into his film career!

Hell, in some movies he even helps the Soviets.

I could bore you with the 20,000 words I wrote on this for my thesis...but instead, I think it may be most instructive to look at who exactly Bond faces in each of the films, to give you an idea of just how apolitical and non-ideological our dinner-suited friend really is:

1) Dr. No (1962) - crazy half-Chinese doctor, working for SPECTRE, a transnational terrorist organisation
2) From Russia With Love (1963) - mad Irish assassin and rogue Russian agent, both working for SPECTRE
3) Goldfinger (1964) - mad British millionaire intent on robbing Fort Knox, plus his hat-throwing Korean sidekick
4) Thunderball (1965) - mad SPECTRE number two, determined to steal some NATO missiles
5) You Only Live Twice (1967) - maniacal SPECTRE head, Blofeld, stealing rockets from the Russians and the Yanks
6) OHMSS (1969) - Terrorist Blofeld again, this time planning to spread a virus around the world
7) Diamonds Are Forever (1971) - Blofeld now plans to use a giant laser to blackmail the whole world
8) Live and Let Die (1973) - tinpot Caribbean dictator tries to flood the US with cheap drugs
9) The Man with The Golden Gun (1974) - lone gun Scaramanga plays off the Chinese and the West for his own gain
10) The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) - mad terrorist tries to destroy Moscow and New York
11) Moonraker (1979) - mad industrialist plans to destroy the world
12) For Your Eyes Only (1981) - Greek commie stooge working with the KGB - finally, a socialist villain!
13) Octopussy (1983) - renegade Russian agent tries to plunge Europe into war (so he's not working for the Russkis)
14) A View To A Kill (1985) - crazy industrialist plans to drown Silicon Valley
15) The Living Daylights (1987) - rogue KGB general does lots of bad stuff, in league with an American arms dealer
16) Licence to Kill (1989) - South American drug baron
17) Goldeneye (1995) - Treacherous former British agent aims to create world financial meltdown (we didn't need 006 - the banks did it for us!)
18) Tomorrow Never Dies (1997) - mad British media mogul plays the Chinese and Brits off so he can sell newspapers
19) The World Is Not Enough (1999) - anarchist terrorist villain steals nuclear device from former Soviet republic
20) Die Another Day (2002) - rogue North Korean officer takes on bond without the permission of Kim Jong-il.
21) Casino Royale (2006) - financier of global terrorism plays baccarat with Bond
22) Quantum of Solace (2008) - shadowy international terrorist group

So - there you have it: only once does Bond directly face villains owned and operated by a rival international power. The other 21 times, he saves the world by taking on terrorists, rogue agents, greedy capitalists, and treacherous Brits.

Makes you love him even more, doesn't it?

Heil Ranga!

I received my weekly online gossip email today, popbitch, which has recently been revealing some famous redeheads from history. A few we know: Winston Churchill, Alexander the Great, Eisenhower. A few are more surprising: Lenin, for example, who must go down as the most important ranga in the annals of history.

Apart, that is, from popbitch's famous redhead today: Adolf Hitler.

Could it be? Was Adolf really a ginge?

I have nevr encountered this myth before, and I have been scouting the net all evening for some tidbit to support this assertion. but I have found just one comment, on one dodgy blog, that backs it up. This blogger reckons that Hitler was a reddie, and that he died his hair black to cover it up.

This would make sense, considering Hitler's view of redheads. There is a fair bit of evidence that says he thought gingers were unnatural and were not to be tolerated bypeople from good Aryan stock.

However, I have never read or heard anything about the fuhrer's predilection for black hair dye. So I decided to look at the photographic evidence. Surely, if Hitler was ginger, he would have been so as a youngster, and surely, he wouldn't have started dyeing his hair until he was an adult.

Here's the earliest photo of our Adolf:


His toddler's mop does look pretty dark, doesn't it?

How about as a school boy? (I do love his arrogant gaze in this photo, it speaks volumes of the person behind the eyes...):


Again, unless Frau Hitler was colouring his locks, I reckon he was a brunette. I'm definitely calling popbitch on their Adolf Ranga claim.

Now, a very quick one...was Hitler actually a fanatical vegetarian, as we are so often told?

This one is interesting, and pretty easy to dispute. Despite his claim to be a vegetarian from at least the early 1930s to his death, there are ample sources indicating that he (albeit infrequently) partook of animal products over this time. Cooks, secretaries, doctors, and eyewitnesses have mentioned episodes where Hitler ate liver, sausage, squab (young pigeon, if you didn't know), animal fat, pork, caviar, and medicines derived from animal products.

So, even though he delighted in disgusting dinner guests by describing his visit to a slaughterhouse in the Ukraine, it seems that Hitler would occasionally enjoy a morsel of the meaty stuff. True, he didn't eat much (mainly for health reasons, it seems, though there is a crackpot theory that conjures up the philosophy of Richard Wagner), but he was not a true veggo by today's standards.

Alright, that's enough Adolf. Auf wiedersehn.

Burning Questions

Hi folks. It's been a while since last I wrote, and there are many topics on my mind for the next few Histbusters. But today I am feeling very contemporary, so I thought I'd answer a couple of myths currently doing the rounds...

1. Is Barack Obama a Muslim?

This isn't even a real question. All the shock jocks in the US are implying it is true, as though the implication that you are of the Islamic faith is some sort of badge of shame. The true answer - it doesn't matter one iota.

Sadly, Barack seems to think it does. His official website for denying untrue rumours about him, states quite plainly:

"Barack Obama is a committed Christian, not a Muslim." (Their emphasis)

Just to sate your curiosity - because we are all dying to know just where he got that interesting name: 'Barack' was his dad's name; 'Hussein' was his grandfather's name; his dad was 'atheist' according to Obama (although he would say that, for electability purposes, but again, does it matter?); his mum's side were strict Protestants; he discovered Christianity in the 80s, and has been a devotee ever since.

However...one, perhaps more interesting myth...

2. Did Barack Obama attend a madrassa (religious college) when he lived in Indonesia?

I didn't even know that Barack had lived in Indo until the other night. I knew all the other stuff - Kenyan dad, white mum, grew up in Hawai'i, befriended terrorists, desires the forcible takeover of the US government by the faithful martyrs of Allah - but the Indonesian link had passed me by. And apparently, those very same shock jocks who keep going on about Obama forging his birth certificate, and being a closet Islamist, have been telling their listeners all about his attendance at a devout Islamic school, of the type frequented by the Bali bombers or the Taliban.

According to Newsweek, and various other journals, this is patent bollocks. During his five years there, he attended a Catholic school, then a public primary school, where religion was taught once a week. Of course, being a Muslim country, this would have been the basics on Islam.

That's enough Obama. One final question from this week's news...

3. Is Kim Jong-Il dead?

Apparently, the Dear leader is on his deathbed, or completely well, or has been dead for ages. That's the best I can come up with from scanning the web for info on this crazy character.

We all know that someone thinks they saw his son maybe contact a French doctor who has perhaps gone to Pyongyang, where possibly he is treating the leader for a mystery illness.

We have also recently heard that he groomed four lookalikes to impersonate him in public, for fear of an assassination attempt, and that, since his death in 2003, one of these has stood in for him.

Plus we know that he hasn't been seen in public for a couple of months.

So is he dead?

First, the idea that he has been replaced by an impersonator is pure, deluded, spybook fantasy. Discount it immediately.

And the fact that he could have died, but the world has not found out? Again, far from possible, in this day and age. There would be someone in North Korea with something to gain from such information leaking out. If any world leader dies today, we will all know tomorrow. That goes equally for Kim Jong-Il. Just because he is a crackpot, doesn't mean his nation believes it can't go on without him. They managed well enough after the death of his infinitely more popular and indispensable father, Kim Il-Sung, back in 1994.

When Kim finally kicks the bucket, this is what will happen: an announcement will be made, a grotesquely massive funeral service will be held, some general will be promoted to President, and Kim will recieve the same accolade as his dear, dead, dad:

"Eternal President of the Republic (2)"

Financial Crisis Schimancial Crisis

I was just watching Kevin Rudd on the telly. He told me that this was the worst financial crisis in a lifetime. Mine or his, I don't know, but I suspect he meant the worst in a long time.

A guy worth $60million, telling me the economy is a mess.

Bugger off.

This event will not touch him, except in his capacity as Prime Minister. The crisis will come and go. He will glide through, politically. Or he may be voted out. That is still two years away. Whatever.

He will still be a rich bastard in 2010, or 2012, or whenever. Fluctuations mean nothing to a man of his wealth. Even if his personal wealth 'collapses' to 2 million bucks, he' s still a rich bastard.

Companies and banks collapse, and here are national governments, propping up these gambling, risk-taking bastards.

"Oh, please help me, I only got a $35 million bonus last year, and I need $2 billion to bail out my failing investments".

You can bugger off rich boy. You gambled other people's money, and you lost.

If I borrowed $50 from my mates, stuck it in a pokie machine, and then lost it, I would be rightly labelled a 'loser'. You are called an investor, and then handed lots of tax payers money (you know, the money you don't like to pay?) to correct your dodgy calculations.

If the US government gave a trillion dollars to homeless people, it would be hounded from office. It hands it over to rich bankers, and we're all supposed to bloody cheer because we're being 'saved' from the 'crisis'.

Vive la capitalisme.

What is wrong with this world??

What's in a name?

Macedonia. I often find myself thinking about this small, landlocked, hilly Balkan nation. Which probably tells you something about me, but there is actually a reason for my Maco-ponderings. You see, this 15-year old country still labours under the rather unwieldy label of 'The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia', or FYROM for you abbreviation buffs.

Now, apart from making Macedonia sound like the international affairs version of the Artist Formerly Known as Prince, this is a mightily intriguing name, and one which I have finally looked into.

I always presumed that FYROM (as I shall now call it, to avoid any ugly diplomatic disputes) had adopted its strange nomenclature to keep the former Yugoslavia (i.e. Serbia) happy, and make for an easier transition to its own independence. That is, a bunch of Very Important Balkan People got together, and the Macos said, 'Look, Serbia, we don't want to annoy you, but we'd love to leave the federation, so how about we do so, but keep Yugoslavia in our name, so we don't look like we can't stand being in the same room with you?'

But that's not it. The truth is rather more interesting, if indeed you are interested in such hot topics as How Countries Got Their Names.

No, the country that has the shits in this matter is Greece. They have their own province called Macedonia (well, Μακεδονία actually), which is culturally, ethnically and linguistically Macedonian. And, as we know, their Macedonia has a proud history reaching back to before Alexander the Great.

They object to FYROM (or Македонија, as the FYROM-ers call it) using the name without a geographical qualifier. The dispute has continued since the early 90s, and no solution is yet in sight. Greece refuses to recognise any permanent name that mentions 'Macedonia'; FYROM refuses to drop the word.

It has actually led to some fairly amusing diplomatic gyrations. In their discussions, the two countries have been referred to officially as 'the Party of the First Part' and 'the Party of the Second Part', simply to avoid Greece having to call its neighbour 'Macedonia'.

Greece has suggested some alternative titles: Vardar Republic, and Republic of Skopje, are two of them. However, if you translate them to their Australian equivalents - Murray-Darling Republic, or Republic of Canberra, you can see why the FYROM might be opposed.

Possible compromise ideas include: New Macedonia, Upper Macedonia, Slavo-Macedonia, Nova Makedonija, and Macedonia (Skopje). All pretty innocuous, but still Greece is opposed to the use of the 'M' word.

It's all completely mad when one thinks about it. Greece (with a Macedonian minority of less than 1%, whose historical heyday was over two millennia ago) is upset that a country which is 65% Macedonian, is trying to call itself Macedonia.

Everybody knows that FYROM is actually Macedonia. Greece is fooling nobody. So what if Alexander the Great came from the Greek part? That was 2300 bloody years ago.

My advice? Let's all drop the FYRO, and call a Balkan republic a Balkan republic. And Greece, take your bloody hand off it.

Pax Burgerana

There has been a myth doing the rounds since the late 1990s, which links the location of wars around the world to the availability of greasy American franchised burgers.

The line goes like this: there have been no wars between any two countries which both have a McDonalds restaurant at the time of the conflict.

It's called the Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention.

The rationale being that, once a country is stable, 'sophisticated', capitalist, and 'western' enough to support a Maccas, it will refrain from the silliness of war.

Pure, unadulterated, pro-American bollocks.

I encountered this urban legend again today, when a letter to the editor in the Sydney Morning Herald pointed out that the recent Georgia-Russia war was the first two-Maccas conflict.

I couldn't quite believe this was true, so I looked into some recent wars, and then looked at whether they both had a McDonalds at the time they were kicking the shit out of each other.

Here's the results. I have given the year of the war, followed by the two nations, with the years that they got their first Maccas in brackets. I think you'll agree that all of the following count as wars.

2008: Russia (1990) and Georgia (1999)
2006: Israel (1993) and Lebanon (1998)
1999: India (1996) and Pakistan (1998)
1999: Serbia (1988) and USA/NATO (1940)
1989: USA (1940) and Panama (1971)

Big Macs don't stop wars, I'm afraid.

I wonder when we'll have our first war instigated by McDonalds? The Great Hamburger War of 2044 will be a whopper, I'm sure. Sorry, bad pun.

Farewell Perv

Just a quick one today. News is hitting the world today that Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf has thrown in the towel, resigning to avoid inevitable impeachment and possible imprisonment.

The myth has arisen that this guy is some sort of quasi-democrat, a friend of the West and a saviour of freedom in Pakistan, who has been essential in the fight against terrorism. He has been committed to helping us against the evil-doers, and is therefore welcome into our 'club' of acceptable leaders.

Utter shite. The man was a military dictator who trampled on the few freedoms left to ordinary Pakistanis. He dismantled democracy when it didn't work for him, and has overseen his country's descent into near- civil war.

Good riddance to the Perv, I say. Enjoy Saudi Arabia.

I Am A Jam Doughnut

“All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words "Ich bin ein Berliner."

So said our mate John F. Kennedy, at the height of the Cold War back in June 1963, to an adoring crowd of Berliners. Obviously, he was telling them he was one of them. But did he actually make a gigantic gaffe, and tell them all that he was a jam doughnut?

This is one of those historical tidbits that has become accepted fact. I even tell my kids at school all about JFK and his oratorical faux pas.

The story goes like this: Berliner, rather than being the German word for ‘person from Berlin’, actually means, ‘jam-filled pastry from Berlin’ (in much the same way as a Wiener is a sausage from Vienna, or a frankfurter is a sausage from Frankfurt). Kennedy’s crowd being almost solely German, they would have instantly picked up on his mistake, and found his assertion ridiculous, embarrassing, and funny.

It all makes for a great laugh. The sad thing is, it’s not true. Bugger.

He definitely said it. And he got it spot-on.

A Berliner is, indeed, a pastry from Berlin. But only to Germans who come from outside of Berlin. Berliners call their jam doughnuts pfannkuchen (pancakes).

The problem for scholars of German, is Kennedy’s use of the indefinite article ein (a). A true Berlin citizen would have said, ‘Ich bin Berliner”, without the ein. By using ein, he was implying that he was a non-human Berliner, and therefore a doughnut.

However, as a non-citizen of the city, expressing his figurative solidarity with its people, the use of ein was necessary. Being a US President with a strong Boston accent, he was most evidently not a true Berliner. By using ein, he was sort of saying, ‘I am an American who identifies with the struggles of the people of Berlin’.

Kennedy did make the phrase up at the last minute, and inserted it twice into his landmark speech, in the newly-divided city. But he ran it past his official interpreter, and practised it (in front of Germans) in the office of then Mayor Willy Brandt.

So where did the myth come from? It seems that it didn’t really take off until 20 years after the speech, when the incident was mentioned in Len Deighton’s spy thriller, Berlin Game. The story’s protagonist, Bernard Samson, refers to the jam doughnut gaffe as follows:

“'Ich bin ein Berliner,' I said. It was a joke. A Berliner is a doughnut. The day after President Kennedy made his famous proclamation, Berlin cartoonists had a field day with talking doughnuts.”

A couple of book reviews then mentioned the story, and all of a sudden, it became gospel fact.

Now, god knows where Deighton got the idea from, but he has gone on the record as saying that the character of Bernard Samson is prone to exaggerate and joke, and not everything he says should be taken seriously. So it could be an example of the playful Deighton sparking off an urban legend, via the playful character of Bernard Samson.

Wherever the myth is from, I can tell you one thing: I am mightily annoyed at finding out that JFK didn’t stuff up, because it means I have one less slightly-interesting anecdote to bore my Year 12 kids with. Damn.

Ich bin disappointed.

Flying the Coup

Ah, Africa. Another day, another illegal seizure of power. The news is just coming through that there has been a coup in Mauritania, with the President taken hostage and whisked away to places unknown by the country's leading generals. The news has jarred me a little, seeing as I was in Mauritania a little over a year ago, and I did take quite a shine to this nation of 3 million people and Allah-knows how many camels. Despite being a largely unpopulated expanse of Saharan sand, the country has its fair share of political problems, most stemming from its position on the fault-line between Arab- and sub-Saharan Africa, its recent embrace of fundamentalist Islamic causes, and its sad history as a French colony.

I wish les Maures all the best, and I hope nobody gets hurt in this calamity. Doubtless the dust (or sand) will settle, and the long-suffering population will find themselves under the control of yet another corrupt and unelected leader, and simply get on with the job of surviving. Then, a few years down the track, there will be a push for greater democracy, followed by some flawed elections, then a period of misrule by the new government, and then, to correct the balance...another coup.

Which brings me to my topic for today - coups in Africa. What a stereotype. They have become so cliched in that continent, that now, whenever I see the word 'coup', I instantly presume that it has happened in one of Africa's 53 nations. (Quick digression - why do the French have a word for coup, and we don't, having to use theirs? And why do we use the Spanish word for junta? Surely we can come up with some English alternatives? Suggestions, please...)

Military takeovers do seem to happen a lot in Africa. Or, at least, most people think they do. I am guilty of such presumption, and I was in Africa for ten months last year. I travelled through 20 countries, and didn't see one coup. Admittedly, there was a contested election in Kenya a few months after I was there, but no direct throwing-over of any ruling parties.

So what are the stats? Well, they're actually pretty interesting.

• From 1960 until 2001, there were 191 attempted coups in Africa, or roughly 5 annually. 82 were successful, or about 2 per year. That means each country in Africa has experienced roughly 1.5 coups in the past 40 years. The success rate of coups has declined since the 1960s, but is still at around 40%.
• Europe has had the fewest coups - 18 between 1946-2006, or roughly one every three years. All of those coups were in just 8 countries. Now, the fun part - see if you can name them!
• The Americas was by far the most coup-prone region, in the 1940s and 1950s.
• The five (confirmed) coups since 2000 have been in - Fiji (twice), the Solomons, Thailand, and the Philippines. So it looks like our backyard is the new place to put on a putsch!
• Coups tend to happen where they have happened before - 78% of countries that experienced a coup, actually experienced more than one.
• Sub-Saharan Africa alone has accounted for 44% of the world's coups since 1946. Add on North Africa and the figure shoots up to 55% or so.
• There are now roughly 6 coup attempts worldwide every year (with four of those in Africa). In the 1970s, the world average was 13.
  
• Only three countries in sub-Saharan Africa have never had a coup - and two of them are island nations away from the mainland (Cape Verde, Mauritius, and Botswana)
  
• The world's most coup-prone country? Bolivia, with 22 coups since 1946. The runners-up are Syria (20), Sudan (18), Nigeria (15), Iraq (15) Comoros (13, including three in one year), Benin (12), and Mauritania (12). Well, maybe we should put Mauritania up into joint 6th place now...

So it seems that Africa does get a lot of coups. It has a quarter of the world's nations, most of them independent only since the 1960s, yet it accounts for over half the coups since the 1940s. And even though it is not Number One, it still has 5 nations in the Top Eight.

And why does it happen so much in Africa? Well, there's a topic for another blog...

Bastards yesterday, diamond blokes today

My mate Sam threw out a challenge to me on his blog a couple of weeks ago. He asked me to identify any people or groups whom once we regarded as radical, violent, evil, terrorists, who threatened our very way of life, who are now held in somewhat higher regard.

It's actually not so difficult to come up with a few names. Terrorists are, by and large, simply politicians who have chosen violent methods to pursue their aims. Quite often, they have done so because they see no other avenue. Sometimes, they have done so because they like blowing shit up. And sometimes, they are not anti-government rebels, or shadowy independence groups - they actually are the government.

Once a terrorist is able to use legitimate, constitutional means to resolve their grievances, they quite often choose to do so. And once a terrorist chooses - or is allowed - to come in from the cold, they can become peaceful, regular politicians. We all know that there is a fine line between terrorism, and fighting for what to many is a noble cause; just as there is a fine line between fighting a war for good reasons, and fighting one for crappy reasons.

So, anyway, leaving aside people who are terrorists and in government (eg. Dubya), here's my Top Ten (alright, Nine) of Transformed Terrorists. Feel free to comment on them...

1. Nelson Mandela

Yep, the man himself. Today he is the embodiment of all that is noble and good about politics. He is kind, tolerant, inclusive, noble, and just. Since being released from prison, he has become a nobel peace laureate, and the global statesman without equal. Yet, this guy was only knocked off the US Terrorism watch list last month. Why? Because he used to be regarded (in South Africa at least) as a bloodthirsty insurgent. Mandela, short of legal options for pursuing true democracy in his homeland, resorted to violent means. He headed the armed wing of the ANC and was imprisoned for 27 years for charges inclduing sabotage.

2. Yasser Arafat.

OK. This list isn't in any particular order. And some people wouldn't include ol' Crackerfat. But few would disagree that Yasser made the move from internationally reviled terror chief, to legitimate negotiating partner on the issue of Palestine. True, he died without his dream being realised, after being trapped in his compound by the Israelis for the last few years of his life, but he kept the dream of an independent Palestine alive for decades. He even used to shape his headscarf into the rough outline of his nation every day. In the early 80s, he was almost picked off by Ariel Sharon in Beirut, before being offered last-minute asylum in Tunisia, yet he bounced back and became a quasi-national leader.

3. Menachem Begin.

In the interests of balance, I've now got my favourite former Israeli terror chief. In the 1940s, Begin headed Irgun, a terrorist group which perpetrated hundreds of violent acts against the British administration in Palestine. Thirty years later, he was Prime Minister! Proof that, whatever your race, religion, or creed in the Middle East, bombing people is no obstacle to a respectable career in constitutional politics.

4. Prachanda.

A contemporary one. In 1996, Prachanda ("the fierce one") initiated a Marxist insurrection against the Nepalese government. 13,000 people died during the conflict. Now, Prachanda is part of the interim government, and a favourite for future President. And he has managed to engineer the end of the Nepalese monarchy! So, kids, there you go: violent Maoism does pay.

5. Muammar Gaddafi.

Apparently, there are at least 32 ways to spell Qadaffy's name. There, I've used two already. Back in the mid-80s, he was 'Mad Dog' himself, rogue leader of a rogue state, so vile that the Yanks bombed him. And now? He has renounced terrorism and is being courted by the great powers of Europe, especially the French. Why? Because he has lots of oil and money and he wants to buy guns. And if you renouce terrorism you're allowed to buy guns and be violent. Don't you just love the way international politics works?

6. Xanana Gusmao.

1990s - public enemy number one in Indonesia, arrested for separatism and arms possession.
2008 - Universally adored President of a free East Timor. But probably still not loved by the Indos.

7. Tito.

I guess this one depends on your politics. Tito went from gun-totin' thorn in the Nazis' side in the Balkans, to suit-wearin' thorn in the Russians' side as President of Yugoslavia. The Partisan leader was prepared to piss off anyone who tried to step on his nation, again showing us that 'terrorism' is a purely relative term.

8. Daniel Cohn-Bendit.

In 1968, DCB was a firebrand French student, who led the violent, dramatic riots in Paris which nearl toppled French democracy. He was passionate, angry, uncompromising. No way would he become a part of the rotten, corrupt institutions of stagnant old Europe!

And now? DCB is a respectable, law-abiding Member of the European Parliament. Stick it to the man, Danny!!

9. Fidel Castro.

One day he's a communist revolutionary insurgent hiding out in the hills of southern Cuba. The next, he's a communist revolutionary insurgent swigging Bacardi in his palace in Havana. And still a terrorist, according to the Yanks.

10. Er..that's it.

James Newhouse - A Real Don Juan

I have to admit, I know bugger-all about Giacomo Casanova. Except that his name translates into English as James Newhouse (don't names always sounds better in Romance languages? Mine would be Tommaso Guerriero).

My good mate Sam (Samuele Rubinetti) asked me if I could address the myth of Mr Casanova. Was he, as history would have us believe, a 'man-whore'?

Because that is certainly what he is famous for. Whether you know the intricacies of his life or not, chances are that, when you hear that name, you think of a guy who has slept around a lot. A bit like Don Juan (or Don Giovanni, in Italian). The difference is, Don Juan was fictional. But Casanova was the real thing.

Jimmy Newhouse led a pretty darned exciting life. Born in Venice in 1725, he spent 73 fun-packed years carousing around Europe, hatching schemes, sleeping with women, educating himself, being arrested, gambling away his fortune, and generally not focusing on any one thing for too long. Reading about his exploits, one thinks immediately of an 18th-century Cosmo Kramer - constantly flitting from project to project, from lover to lover, having a grand old time, and always landing on his feet.

But was he a 'man-whore'?

In his memoirs, he mentions 122 sexual encounters with different women (with a few not-so-boastful implied encounters with blokes).

Now, 122 may sound like a lot. But that still only averages out to two a year, from when he was first fondled by a female friend at age 11. And there are plenty of other, more contemporary figures, who have probably had as many, if not more: Mick Jagger and Warren Beatty jump to mind, as well as basketballer Wilt Chamberlain, who claimed he'd slept with 20,000 ladies. Wow.

But it's not just about the quantity. In his lengthy discussions of his seduction technique, he states the importance of love being one-on-one (no orgies for our Venetian friend); of the value of attentiveness and conversation; that alcohol and violence are not tools to be employed by the truly great lover; and that the greatest conquests were those preceded by some sort of chase (one night stands would not have been his favourites).

So, it seems that Cassie slept with a very large number of women, but treated each as a sexually/emotionally/intellectually-fulfilling relationship, to be savoured over a quite lengthy period of time. Unlike the conventional image of a man-whore, which would look more like Keith Richards, pepped up on goofballs, shagging fourteen underaged groupies in a Miami hotel, whilst wearing a leather g-string and 10-inch dildo, and simultaneously snorting coke off a dwarf's thigh.

The other thing to remember is that the main source for our information on Casanova's wondrous sexploits is his very own, 12-volume autobiography - The History of My Life. Running to 3500 pages in its unexpurgated form, the book pretty much recounts every single experience in Giacomo's time on earth.

This isn't selling yourself along the lines of a modern-day cash-in memoir such as Britney: My Life (by Britney Spears and Some Proper Author, 44 pages). This is pure, unadulterated, 12-volume, self-promotion by the multi-talented celebrity of his era. So we can probably take some of what he says with a grain of salt.

He did lots of amazing stuff, and lived a rich and fulfilling life. Along the way he had lots of wholesome sex. The he wrote a big, fat exaggerated account about it.

In fact, if Casanova was anything, he was a self-obsessed celebrity with ADHD, who thought he could do absolutely anything if he put his mind to it, who had an obsession with sex.

Kind of like Madonna.

Great-great-great-grandfather Genghis

You know that guy sitting opposite you on the bus this morning? The one with the reddish tinge to his hair, and the hint of oriental heritage in his eyes? And possibly a scimitar hanging from his hip? Well, the chances are relatively high that he is a direct descendant of Genghis Khan.

You may have heard of the Genghis Khan effect. I stumbled upon it the other day, and its one of the coolest historical doobywacks I've encountered in a while. The basic premise is as follows:

In 2003, a group of 23 scientists completed ten years of research in the lands constituting the former Mongol Empire. They analysed the DNA of thousands of men in those regions, studying especially the Y chromosomes, those passed from father to son.

Apparently, the Y-chromosome remains largely unchanged as it makes its genetic way forward through history. Every now and then, a (usually harmless) mutation occurs somewhere along its length, and this mutation, or 'marker', will then pass on from generation to generation.

These Y-markers are useful because, if you find two blokes with the same one, chances are that they are both descended from the same ancestor.

The scientists conducting this research made an amazing discovery: in the former empire of the Great Khan, around 16 million men, or 1 in 12 males, share the same Y-marker, one which is found only in that region. Also, the mutation is about 1000 years old.

The only possible way for a mutation like that to spread to so many people in such a short time, is if the person carrying the original manages to kill off lots of the male competition, and sleep with lots of women, and have lots of sons.

That sounds like our Genghis. He killed hundreds of thousands, he had concubines and harems, and he got first pick of the conquered females.

So the explanation goes like this. Genghis picked up the Y-marker from a recent male relative, maybe his great-grandfather. He and his male siblings spread their line throughout their rapidly-conquered territories. They murdered the guys and raped the ladies. And now Genghis has 16 million direct male descendants.

The rest of us could expect about 20 male heirs by the year 2800. So Genghis has spread his seed at 800,000 times the average rate.

Of course, we can't be sure that the progenitor was Temujin himself, until we find his remains and test his DNA. But the odds on it being him are pretty good. I mean, how many other murderous Mongolian warlords, ruling the whole of Eurasia, were there 8 centuries ago?

And the loser is...

What with all the Obama-Clinton furore in the press recently, I have found myself pondering over the following dilemma: just who has been the worst US President out of the 42 white Protestant men (and one white Catholic man) who have so far held that esteemed office?

Now, in 2008, it is mighty easy to dismiss the incumbent shitwit as the worst of the worst. By any measure, George Dubya is a man of loose morals and of questionable intelligence, who is already well within the 'lame duck' catgeory. There is really nothing he could do in the next six months to lift himself from the doldrums of presidential-effectiveness.

However, Americans don't seem to completely agree with this sentiment. They have voted for him twice (sort of), and the vitriol and anger directed towards him back in 2003-4 seems to have largely been replaced with feelings of pity for his pure bumbling incompetence. Yes, he is pretty crap, but he can't help it. And at least he has stopped invading other people's countries in recent years.

There is much debate about who has been the best US President. In fact, there have been a large number of surveys based on this question, where Americans are asked to rank their past leaders from first to last. Pretty unsurprisingly, the favourites are usually Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Washington. Jefferson, Truman, the other Roosevelt, and Wilson tend to follow. In the last 2 major surveys, (2002 and 2005), George W. has come 23rd and 19th respectively. Bill Clinton managed 18th and 22nd. Bush Snr. was about the same, with 22nd and 21st. So, in recent times, it seems the guys we all remember get lumped in about the middle. Not too bad, but not too great either.

But what about the worst? There was a poll conducted in 2008 of professional historians, of which 98% declared the Bush presidency a failure, with over 60% calling it the worst so far. Now, this was a poll of experts, who might actually know what they're talking about, but it probably doesn't reflect the view of most Americans. And certainly not your average gun-totin' redneck Texan.

On the public surveys, there are a few names which tend to pop up at the bottom of the list. The main three are:

Franklin Pierce (1853-57)
James Buchanan (1857-61)
Warren G Harding (1921-23)

Another two, William Henry Harrison, and James Garfield, usually remain unranked, as they both died after a few months in office, and therefore didn't really get the chance to bugger up the domestic economy, or send the marines into a troublesome Latin American country.

So let's look at our three top contenders.

1) Pierce.

It seems that the main issue with this guy was that he allowed himself to be manipulated by the pro-slavery lobby, allowing the newly-settled western states to introduce slavery if they wished. He has been accused of being a northern President with southern sympathies, of being unable to keep control of domestic or international affairs, and of being indecisive. He is, so far, the only President who failed to win his party's nomination to stand for a second term. And, after his crappy period as President, he became an alcoholic (on losing the nomination, he reportedly said, 'there's nothing left to do but get drunk'), and he once ran over an old woman in his carriage. He died of liver cirrhosis at the age of 64.




2) Buchanan.

Poor old Jimmy Buchanan famously declared that 'history will vindicate my memory'. Well, it seems that it didn't. Buchanan took a similarly weak stance on slavery as his predecessor, Pierce. It was during his presidency that the southern states moved towards secession, and historians blame his inability to deal with this pressing issue as one of the reasons for the Civil War. In fact, by the time he left office, seven slave states had already left the Union, and the first tentative shots of the conflict had been fired.

He also sent the troops in to Utah to hassle the Mormons, and oversaw the Financial Panic of 1857.

Buchanan saw the writing on the wall, and didn't stand for nomination in 1860. In fact, he departed office gladly, telling Lincoln that if he was as happy to enter the White House as Buchanan was to leave it, then Lincoln was indeed a happy man.


3) Harding.

Ah, Warren Gamaliel Harding. Conservative newspaperman, popular Republican President, inventor of the word, 'normalcy' - and historical lame duck. What went wrong?

Well, apparently he appointed a bunch of his cronies into his administration, and they proceeded to rob the nation's coffers. Harding either couldn't or wouldn't do anything about his corrupt chums. "I have no trouble with my enemies," Harding said at one point, "but my damn friends, they're the ones that keep me walking the floor nights!"

He also had a rather clumsy style of speaking, loaded with gaffes, mispronunciations, incorrect words, and cluttered phrases.

Conservative and inept. Cronyism and corruption. Inability to speak publicly. Does any of this sound familiar?


So, in conclusion?

From what I've read about these three blokes, it seems that the first two were incompetents who presided over the disintegration of the Union, while the third was a bit average. To a non-American, who doesn't see the Civil War as the defining moment of tragedy in World History, they don't seem that bad.

My vote definitely goes to those Presidents who have abused American power, to the detriment of the rest of the globe.

Johnson, Nixon, Bush Jr., hang your (respectively) ugly, lying and empty, heads in shame.

One lump or two?

Hitler, has only got one ball
The other is in the Albert Hall
Himmler, has something sim'lar
And poor old Goebbels, has no balls, at all



We've all heard that ditty - or a variation on it - at some point, probably in some god-awful World War Two film where the Brits have stiff upper lips and a doughty, pipe-smoking officer, and the Nazis are all...well, a bit shit.

The song is known as the Colonel Bogey March, and most of us - me included - probably think this delightful little piece of poetry has at least some basis in fact. I mean, Hitler did have only one testicle, didn't he? Sure, the other wasn't on display in a large British concert venue, but Hitler was sexually not all there, so to speak. Why else would you invade Poland, and eat vegetarian food, and rant on about the raw deal the Aryans were getting, whilst having untold millions of untermensch slaughtered?

I'm still a big believer in the two Hitler sex myths. As in, these ones:

1) Hitler only had one ball.
2) Hitler was into some WEIRD sexual stuff. Like watching people shit on each other.

God, they're good, aren't they?? They just explain so much. But are they true?

Let's do Myth #1 first. Was Hitler monorchic?

Well, apparently, yes. The evidence suggest he received an injury to his groin (whenever you hear this on Sports Tonight, read: bollocks) during WW1. Also, his commanding officer during this war has stated that a routine VD exam showed Hitler was missing his left testicle. The Soviets released the results of an autopsy during the 1970s also saying as much, but this postmortem has been largely dismissed as a pile of Brezhnev-era bullshit. I mean, whatever was left of the Fuhrer's smoking corpse when the Commies picked it up was probably sans-bollock because of the hasty attempt to cremate it.

Apparently, his doctors during the 1930s and 1940s did not note his missing organ. But, let's be honest, if you had been Hitler's personal medic in 1940, would you have drawn the mad bastard's attention to his loss?

The other theory is that he had syphillis, and had lost his little boy due to the onset of the late stages of the disease. The associated madness could explain his rather erratic behaviour between the years of 1919 and 1945.

Some say the above song was written by the British government as a propaganda tool, designed to send Hitler around the bend by reminding him of his impotence. Myth? Or the most extreme form of bullying ever witnessed in international diplomacy?

Did it even matter? In one online forum, I found this comment:

"Like Miranda said on Sex and the City... "Women don't care. We care about nice arms, great eyes, a big dick... I've never once heard a woman say: 'He had such a big full scrotum.'"

I guess only one person could have ever told us. Eva Braun. And he had the poor bitch poison herself with cyanide.

OK. Myth decidely neither proved nor disproved. What about the second one?

Was Hitler some sort of weird sexual fetishist?

From what I've read, there doesn't seem to be much evidence for this. There are a lot of quasi-Freudian analyses, usually by Jewish guys called Dr. _berg, who assert that Hitler's over-protective mother fuelled his later obsessions with the anal/faecal/buccal regions, and this was why he was such a cad.

Look, he was an arsehole. You don't need to be into amputee-sex or tranny porn to be a headcase. Looking for sexual motivation behind his actions kind of denies the basic inhumanity of his character. And anyway, some of the nicest folks I know like being pooed upon.

I have found it difficult to find any real proof of Hitler's preoccupation with poo, wee or bums. And, as a British citizen, I have to admit that my entire sense of humour is based around these three things, so hey, what's the problem?

My verdict? No watching people shit on each other's chests for sexual gratification.

Also, he fancied his niece. This one is pretty much true. Sounds gross, but Hitler's dad did marry his niece, and together they spawned Adolf. So he wouldn't have found it too weird.

Hitler had two balls. But possibly he had syphillis. He didn't have much sex, but that he did have was with a blond Aryan girl.

Debate over.

The 300 problems I have with this movie...

Whichever way you view it - including through a drug-and-alcohol fuelled haze - The 300 is a shit movie. Leprositic, sexually-depraved Spartan elders, fake-sixpacked David Wenhams, booby-flashing religious oracles: all these images, and more, really give me the crying shits. It's films like this that make my job as a history teacher even harder than it should be. Every day, some snotty-nosed kid asks me a mind-blowingly stupid question like, 'When was Achilles alive?', or 'Why did medieval dragons speak with a Scots brogue?', or, 'Why was Alexander the Great such an arrogant and irritating Irish partyboy?'

Now, I can understand why directors would want to spice up their historical movies a little. Especially if you've settled on making the next Michael Collins or John Howard: the Little Guy from Bennelong. But if there is one event in history which doesn't need any extra spice, then the showdown at Thermopylae in 480BC should be the one. You don't need bluescreen and piles of dead Persians to make that battle look exciting.

Artistic licence is all very well. So is painting muscles on diminuitive Australian actors, or having the guys in sounds make a loud 'thunk' noise every time a Spartan lightly presses his pinky finger against a division of heavily armed Phoenician auxiliaries. But if there is one thing I really can't stand about The 300, it is the portrayal of Xerxes, the mighty King of the Persians.

Compare these two pictures:


The first shows a gigantic, heavily-pierced, near-naked, bejewelled, androgynous, Brazilian actor/model. The second shows Xerxes.

However, unless you're especially interested in Ancient History, you probably think the first one is Xerxes.

This leads us to another problem with The 300. Xerxes is presented to us as the villain of the film, and, as such, he needs to look menacing - and different. Yes, he is wearing a tight pair of briefs, much like Leonidas and crew, but otherwise he is decidedly non-Spartan - tall, bald, feminine, evil - and brown.

Ah, xenophobia. It's always been a necessary component of war movies. Whether it's the cold-blooded German officers of a WW2 flick, the raggedy Iraqis of a Gulf War movie, or the cunning Viet Cong (slippery bastards, dressing like civilians!) in any number of Vietnam films, we do love an enemy who is a bit different from us. And, despite The 300 being set 2500 years ago, in a world we would barely recognise, we still have the good (blond, white, honourable Spartans - our European forebears), and the bad (hordes of dark-skinned Iranians). And look at them - trying to invade Greece! How dare they. Just as treacherous as their deceitful, belligerent descendants.

Look, I know that Frank whatshisname was trying to make a comic book-style, not-entirely-accurate, film about Thermopylae. And some of the scenes are pretty exciting. But film makers need to remember - a lot of people don't rush to the history books to check whether what they've just been told is true. They see the words 'based on true events', and think that they're watching a $120 million documentary.

Anyway, I'm getting off my High Trojan Horse now. I might go and watch a quality historical film, like Alexander.

Curse of the Kennedys?

Watching the news tonight, there was a story about Teddy Kennedy having a seizure and being taken to hospital. The (Channel 10) newsreader linked this event to the infamous 'Kennedy Curse', the supposed belief that the Kennedy clan experiences more than its fair share of misfortune.

Yes, you heard it right. A 76-year old man, who works in a stressful occupation, was hospitalised, and Channel 10 said it was because of a curse.

But, apart from this frivolous invocation of the myth, is there actually any truth to the curse story? I mean, it seems that the Kennedys do get struck by more murders, mishaps and medical emergencies than other uber-wealthy East Coast political dynasties.

I checked the main examples of the Curse to see how plausible the theory is:

1941 - Rosemary, John's sister, was given a lobotomy, due to her increasingly violent and severe mood swings. Her cognitive abilities suffered and she was institutionalised until she died in 2005.

Curse or bad luck? Every slightly wacko rich girl in the 40s was given a lobotomy. Today we pursue them relentlessly in gossip magazines until they top themselves. Rose was probably actually lucky to have been a socialite daughter back then.

1944 - Older brother Joseph dies in a midair explosion whilst flying a secret mission in WW2.

Curse or bad luck? Flying? Secret mission? WW2? Why was anybody surprised when he died?

1955/6 - Jackie Kennedy suffers a miscarriage, and later gives birth to a stillborn daughter.

Curse or bad luck? Don't know if anyone told the Kennedys, but this happens a lot, to regular people. Often a miscarriage is followed by other problems in later pregnancies.

1961 - Patriarch Joseph Kenndy suffers a disabling stroke.

Curse or bad luck? He was 73, for God's sake.

1963 - JFK and Jackie's second son dies after he is born prematurely.

Curse or bad luck? OK, Jackie and John aren't having much luck when it comes to having healthy bubs.

1963 - JFK is assassinated, on the same day his great-grandfather dies.

Curse or bad luck? Now, his great-grandfather must have been bloody ancient by now. He could have gone any day. And we all know about the assassination. But he was the President, he was in a slow-moving open-topped vehicle, in a country with lots of guns and wackos, at a time when the USA was undergoing profound social changes in an uncertain international environment. Again - just a matter of time.

1968 - His brother Robert is assassinated.

Curse or bad luck? If I was the sort of person who hated politicians enough to kill them, and I was going for Bobby Kennedy, then I would probably plump for the symbolic method of taking him out in a similar manner to his dead, famous brother. JFK had already shown that politics can be a violent game in the States - Bobby simply proved the point further. If he and John had settled for jobs as partners in a suburban law firm, they would probably both still be here.

1969 - Ted Kennedy drives his car off a bridge at Chappaquiddick, killing the passenger.

Curse or bad luck? Ted didn't die. Ted was drunk. Ted had a reckless driving charge already under his belt. Ted went on to serve a long, distinguished career in the US Senate. In fact, seems the curse here was on poor old Mary Jo Kopechne.

1972 - Robert's son is on a plane that is hijacked by Palestinian militants.

Curse or bad luck? So were about 300 other people.

1973 - Jackie's stepson dies in a plane crash.

Curse or bad luck? Stepson? He's not even a Kennedy!

1984 - Robert's son David dies of a cocaine and Demerol overdose.

Curse or bad luck? I think you'll find that it was a lethal combination of expensive drugs, not a curse, that killed the young chap.

1988 - Jackie's stepdaughter dies of drug abuse-related heart failure.

Curse or bad luck? See the last two.

1991 - William Kennedy Smith fights a rape charge in a highly publicised trial. And then acquitted.

Curse or bad luck? The operative word here is, 'acquitted'.

1994 - Jackie Kennedy dies of cancer.

Curse or bad luck? Aged 64. Lots of people have cancer, by the way.

1997 - One of Robert's sons dies in a skiing accident.

Curse or bad luck? Why can't these people die in less glamorous ways? I never heard of a Kennedy dying in a box-crushing accident. OK, seems Robert's side did get a raw deal.

1999 - JFK Jnr. dies in a plane crash.

Curse or bad luck? What is it with the Kennedys and plane accidents? If I even married into the family, I'd be taking trains and ferries for the rest of my life...

So - the verdict?

After reading about the misfortunes to hit the family, I have come to the following conclusions:

1) They indulge in high-risk activities - skiing, flying planes, taking Demerol overdoses, and driving amongst Texans.

2) They are high-profile and therefore are valuable targets. Also, we hear about them a lot. Who knows, there could be a family in western Sydney with a similar attrition rate, but no-one ever mentions the 'Curse of the Smiths from Granville'.

3) They are all mixed up in politics...

4) There are a bloody shitload of them! In fact, good Catholics that they are, the Kennedy clan currently boasts 13 million members in Massachussetts alone. No wonder one of them dies every few years.

5) They are human. Apparently, humans die of cancer, heart failure, and even in plane accidents.

'Busted'. (I'll stop doing that from now on...)

Disney on Ice

So, I finally cracked, and decided to have a crack at a non-travelblog blog. As you are doubtless well aware, there are untold millions out there, just desperate to know exactly what's on my mind. Every day these poor souls scan the net, vainly searching for the latest words of wisdom from Chairman Tom. Well, people, scan no longer. Here I am.

I didn't want to get all political and/or drunkenly abusive, as my mate Sam does on his blog. So I am attempting a slightly different idea. Being a history teacher of no particular repute, how about a history blog? (Hey. You in the front row. Pay attention. History is not boring.)

But not just a history blog (or e-history, as we call it now. Or rather, not.) This one will aim to disprove common historical misconceptions, to break and destroy them, or 'bust' them. Thus my wholly original title - HistBusters. At the end of a post, if a 'myth' has been sufficiently 'busted', then I plan to add a large metallic plaque at the bottom, plainly stating as much. So no copyright issues here, then.

So on we go. Myth Number One. A fave of mine, combining my love of cartoons, fascist sympathisers, and cryogenics. Is Walt Disney frozen somewhere, awaiting the glorious day when scientists have figured out a way to cure lung cancer, revive dead cartoon executives, and resurrect the Fuhrer? Is Disney on Ice?

This one's easy. No he ain't. He died in 1966, and then he was cremated. The documentary and eye-witness evidence is conclusive.

'Busted'.

OK, too easy. From what I've been reading though, this cryonics business isn't as wacko as it sounds. Apparently the first few guinea-pigs back in the 60s didn't fare too well, as the science was in its infancy, and there was a lot of cell damage caused by build-up of ice crystals and the like. Plus, the labs ran out of cash and simply let some of the bodies thaw out. In some cases, they didn't tell the families of the cryo-humans for several years. So a bit of a rude shock when you pop in to see Grandad's perfectly-preserved frozen form, and instead get a Tutankhamun lookalike covered in blowflies.

However, there have been advances in recent years, and it seems that things are looking up for mad, ailing Yanks who have a spare $150,000 or so. Although there is very little chance of rescuing somebody from official, total, clinical death, there is a school of thought saying that if somebody is properly cryo-preserved before their 'information-theoretic death', then there is a fair chance that they will one day be resurrected in some form, possibly only partially and mentally. If you can save the brain and preserve it almost intact within a few hours of clinical death, then some scientists believe that you can hold onto thoughts, memories and the like. And maybe, in the future, other, better, scientists might work out how to retrieve them, much like the guy at the computer shop retrieves my lost files, when some porn site forces my PC towards its information-theoretic death.

It's all very hypothetical and still out-there enough that only a handful of humans - a 100 or so rich, crazy humans - have gone through the process.

And, sadly, Walt wasn't one of them. So no chance of hooking his brain up to some mega-computer and having him write the screenplay to Snow White 2: Dopey's Violent Revenge.

And was the old de-animated, never-to-be reanimated, animator, a closet Nazi?

Well, seems he was a teensy bit anti-Semitic. But wasn't everyone back in the 30s? And he did hate communists. He was a rich Yank, for god's sake, what do you expect?

But he did secretly lend support to Leni Reifenstahl, the Nazi film-maker, even after the horrors of Kristallnacht in 1938. And he did, apparently, attend meetings of a pro-Nazi American group called the German American Bund.

And he had that silly little moustache. Yeah, fuck it, he was a Nazi.

Next week. Let's get to the bottom of the Pluto-Goofy controversy. Why does Goofy wear pants and talk, while Pluto is naked and barks? They're both dogs, goddammit.