This was formerly known as Booz Allen Hamilton’s Beirut office … it is (was) strategically located right above the Danish embassy in Beirut.

A friend sent me these pictures (and others) some time ago, accompanied with the above caption. I felt I had plenty to say about them at the time, but (since I had to wait -God knows for how long- for the permission to put them on; naturally) I’ve cooled off… which, after all, might be the best thing to say here — this whole f’ing thing is obviously retarded, and a lot of people need to chill!

Incidently, I’m reading Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five, where he quotes this passage from Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, by Charles Mackay, first published in London in 1841:

History in her solemn page informs us that the crusaders were but ignorant and savage men, that their motives were those of bigotry unmitigated, and that their pathway was one of blood and tears. Romance, on the other hand, dilates upon their piety and heroism, and portrays, in her most glowing and impassioned hues, their virtue and magnanimity, the imperishable honor they acquired for themselves, and the great services rendered to Christianity.

This, of course, was Mackay’s take on the particular instance of The Crusades, but as his book’s title implies, this statement has a wider range of application. He goes on:

Now what was the grand results of all these struggles? Europe expended millions of her treasures, and the blood of two million of her people; and a handful of quarrelsome knights retained possession of Palestine for about one hundred years!

How dismal are the returns on the investment? Ah. What’s it all worth?

Meanwhile, I am receiving emails urging me to sign a petition, or boycott a product. “Defend the Prophet,” they say. As if this is the way to do it; as if we could; as if it is not too late…

Kurt Vonnegut relates this conversation with Harrison Starr, the movie maker, when he mentioned he was writing a book:

… he raised his eyebrows and inquired, “Is it an anti-war book?”
“Yes,” I said. “I guess.”
“You know what I say to people when I hear they’re writing anti-war books?”
“No. What do you say, Harrison Starr?”
“I say, ‘Why don’t you write an anti-glacier book instead?’”
What he meant, of course, was that there would always be wars, that they were as easy to stop as glaciers. I believe that, too.

Time to step out of the glacier’s path, my friends. Time to survive. Hold your culture in your heart, and keep your head above water. Remember The Pianist?