Nothing Changes on New Year's Day

Lasciate ogni speranza per il 2024

 

 

I don't like - and have never liked - the Irish rock band U2.

 

But that isn't to say they haven't written some fine songs, including 'New Year's Day', which contains the killer line: Nothing changes on New Year's Day [1] - a line which counters all the mad optimism of those gawping at fireworks, popping champagne corks, and singing 'Auld Lang Syne' without any idea of what the phrase means. 

 

Often, these are the same people who criticise others for being despairing about the past or present and who insist on being hopeful for the future - even though the expectation of positive outcomes with respect to temporal progress seems entirely groundless.   

 

I don't want to sound too diabolical, but it seems to me that the phrase lasciate ogni speranza written above the gates of Hell is actually a sound piece of advice [2]. For Nietzsche may have a point when he suggests that it is hope which prolongs the torments of man and is thus the most evil of all evils [3].    

 

Finally, let me remind readers also that whilst hope may be one of the great Christian virtues, in Norse mythology it is simply the drool dripping from the mouth of the monstrous Fenris Wolf and courage a term for the gay bravery displayed by the warrior in the absence of hope.

 

 

Notes

 

[1] U2, 'New Year's Day', released as a lead single from the album War (Island Records, 1983): click here to play the official video (dir. Meiert Avis). 

 

[2] The line in full reads Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate ('Abandon all hope, ye who enter here') and it concludes an inscription above the gates of Hell according to Dante. See Inferno Canto III, line 9: click here.

[3] See Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human, II 71: click here.

Turn and Face the Strange (On Coronavirus and the State of Funk)

It's interesting (to me at least) how extraordinarily relevant some of D. H. Lawrence's essays and articles still seem, even though he was writing for a very different readership, in a very different time.

Take, for example, 'The State of Funk', written in 1929. What Lawrence says here about the fear of change on the one hand and the need for courage on the other is surely worth (re-)considering in this Age of Coronavirus; a period characterised by governmental overreaction and media hysteria in the face of a global health crisis and ensuing socio-economic upheaval:

"There is, of course, a certain excuse for fear. The time of change is upon us. The need for change has taken hold of us. We are changing, we have got to change, and we can no more help it than leaves can help going yellow and coming loose in autumn, or than bulbs can help shoving their little green spikes out of the ground in spring. We are changing, we are in the throes of change, and the change will be a great one. Instinctively we feel it. Intuitively, we know it. And we are frightened. Because change hurts. And also, in the periods of serious transition, everything is uncertain, and living things are most vulnerable." [219]

This, I think, was true and important to say then and is true and important to say now: for it seems increasingly certain that the present pandemic will trigger not just a temporary suspension of civil liberties and a Great Confinement, but radical, long-lasting change; not just political and institutional change, but cultural and individual change in terms of everyday behaviour and values.

And the prospect of that understandably causes a certain anxiety amongst a good number of people: But what of it?, asks Lawrence. We might feel uncomfortable and there may be wretched times ahead, but that's no reason for panic or cowardice: "Granted all the pains and dangers and uncertainties, there is no excuse for falling into a state of funk." [219] What is needed, rather, in a time of great change is:

"Patience, alertness, intelligence, and a human goodwill and fearlessness [...] Courage is the great word. Funk spells sheer disaster." [220]

If we are quick-witted and undaunted, then there's the hope that things will be much better than they are presently; "more generous, more spontaneous, more vital, less basely materialistic" [220]. But, on the other hand, if we "fall into a state of funk, impotence and persecution, then things may be very much worse than they are now" [220].  

It's up to us: and we mustn't just leave it to the authorities; to politicians and policemen and those who look to shape public opinion via the media.

Lawrence concludes:

"Change in the whole social system is inevitable not merely because conditions change - though partly for that reason - but because people themselves change [particularly following a serious illness]. We change. You and I, we change and change vitally, as the years go on. New feelings arise in us, old values depreciate, new values arise. Things we thought we wanted most intensely we realise we don't care about. The things we built our lives on crumble and disappear, and the process is painful. But it is not tragic. A tadpole that has so gaily waved its tail in the water must feel very sick when the tail begins to drop off and little legs begin to sprout. The tail was its dearest, gayest, most active member, all its little life was in its tail. And now the tail must go. It seems rough on the tadpole: but the little green frog in the grass is a new gem, after all." [221]

So, as Bowie would say: Turn and face the strange ... and dare to become that little green frog!

See: D. H. Lawrence, 'The State of Funk', Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton, (Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp. 219-224. 

Play: David Bowie, 'Changes', single release from the album Hunky Dory (RCA, 1971): click here for the 2015 remastered version.

In Praise of the Fatwa Boys 2: Larry David's Finest Hour

The Fatwa Boys: Salman Rushdie and Larry David 
in a scene from Curb Your Enthusiasm [S9/E3]

In the long-awaited ninth season of Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry incurs a death sentence from the Supreme Leader of Iran after satirizing the Ayatollah on Jimmy Kimmel Live! in promotion of his latest project - a musical comedy called Fatwa! - based on The Satanic Verses controversy in which a similar religious ruling was passed against the novelist Salman Rushdie in 1989 [see part one of this post]. 

This, I think, is a brave thing to do - arguably far more daring than his usual schtick of breaching social conventions and examining the micropolitics of every day life in obsessive detail. Brave too, I might add, of HBO to agree to this; for these days there aren't many producers willing to be involved in a project that might offend the religious sensibilities of Islam (they might claim their reticence is a sign of respect, but I think we all know it's a sign of fear).      

Post-The Satanic Verses controversy, post-the murder of Theo van Gogh, post-the Danish cartoon crisis, and post-the Charlie Hebdo massacre, the West has learned to appease Islam and limit its own right to freedom of expression. In other words, fear of deadly reprisals has succeeded in bringing about cultural self-censorship. So again, hats off to Larry David!

And hats off too to Salman Rushdie for not only agreeing to make fun of what was, for many years, a truly horrible situation, but also to take part in an episode of the show, where - to brilliant comic effect - he instructs Larry on all the advantages of living under a fatwa (including fatwa sex, which, according to Rushdie, is the best sex there is). 

As one commentator on this episode pointed out, the reason such jokes constitute one of the most effective weapons against Islamic fundamentalism is precisely because - as Khomeini once said - there's nothing funny about Islam.

The ninth season of Curb met with mixed reviews and audience figures were, I believe, much lower than for season 8. Critics said the world had moved on in the six years between the two seasons and that the show belonged to another time.

Maybe that's true: but, ultimately, what matters is the fact that Larry David, in collaboration with Rushdie, demonstrated how best to respond to those fanatics who would have us all submit to their religious mania: with courage and with humour.      


Click here to watch a scene with Larry David and Salman Rushdie (the self-styled Fatwa Boys) from 'A Disturbance in the Kitchen', episode 3 / season 9 of Curb Your Enthusiasm, dir. Jeff Schaffer (HBO, 2017). 

The Trapeze Artist

He flies through the air with the greatest of ease,

That daring old fraud on his flying trapeze.

Someone I know recently claimed that he was a trapeze artist in the circus of life and, at first, it amused me to think of him as an aerial acrobat performing amazing feats of daring; a kind of postmodern Jules Léotard.* 

Nietzsche would certainly approve: the way in which one extracts the sweetest pleasure from existence is, he says, to live dangerously and whilst Zarathustra doesn't - as far as I recall - encounter a trapeze artist on his wanderings, he does meet a tightrope walker, who is surely a kindred spirit.

And when the funambulist falls to the ground thanks to the malicious actions of a fool, Zarathustra comforts the dying man by allaying his fear of damnation and assuring him that he has lived a noble and worthwhile life: 'You made danger your vocation and there is nothing shameful in that.' 

The thing with my friend, however, is that he hasn't really made danger his vocation; for he performs at all times with a (financial) safety net provided by his parents. This protects him in case of a fall and, in so doing, removes mortal risk from the equation.

No one can deny his skills. But there's something a little disingenuous (almost deceitful, almost cowardly) about his performance. Real courage is always displayed in the face of real danger.

* Note: Jules Léotard (1838 - 1870) was the French acrobatic performer and aerialist who developed the art of trapeze. He also popularized the one-piece outfit that now bears his name and inspired the song 'The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze' (1867), written and sung by the popular Victorian music hall entertainer George Leybourne (aka Champagne Charlie).  

See: Nietzsche, The Gay Science, Book IV, Section 283 and Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Prologue, Section 6. 

On Courage and Cowardice (with Reference to the Case of Sir Craig Mackey)

Sir Craig Mackey with the white feather he should receive 

when stripped of his knighthood

Image: Press Association

I. Courage

Courage - be it bravery in the face of physical danger or hardship, or the determination to do the right thing even in the teeth of popular opposition - is one of those ancient virtues that still resonates today. One is even tempted to suggest it's a universal human value.

Certainly in the Western philosophical tradition, courage is right up there; Socrates and his followers may have subjected it to questioning and been unable to ever quite arrive at a satisfactory definition of what it is, but they never doubted its importance. The man who would be master of himself must be able to control his fear and endure suffering. And wisdom alone, as Cicero knew, isn't enough here; it also requires the heart's strength. 

Even Christian thinkers in the medieval period admired courage - often thought of in terms of fortitude - and listed it as one of the cardinal virtues. Indeed, it was also said to be one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. That said, Aquinas and company tend to see courage in purely reactive terms, as a form of perseverance, rather than as something active, such as bravery in battle.

Later, in the modern era, Hobbes thought of courage as a natural virtue belonging to the individual that assists in his survival. Hume also identified courage as a natural virtue and suggested that it was the one of the sources of human pride and wellbeing. For whilst excessive courage can, perhaps, result in recklessness, it brings the individual the admiration of his fellows (and of posterity) and plays a protective role within society - whereas cowardice, on the other hand, lays us open to attack.   

For the existentialists, courage is the affirmation of being in the face of the void and life's absurd cruelty; a way for man to exhibit faith in themselves and grace under pressure, as Hemingway once put it.  

II. Cowardice

Etymologically, the word coward enters into English from the Old French term coart and implies having a tail - as in an individual who turns tail and runs whenever danger threatens, or one who places his tail between his legs like a submissive dog.   

Essentially, cowardice is the opposite of courage; a condition wherein fear and/or excessive self-concern stops one from taking decisive action or speaking up and saying the right thing. It is both a failure of nerve and of character and is looked down on as universally as courage is respected. Indeed, it is often not only stigmatized, but severely punished; particularly within a military context that demands every man do his duty and be brave under fire.  

III. The Case of Sir Craig Mackey

And so to the case of Sir Craig Mackey, Deputy Commissioner of the Met ... A man now condemned and widely mocked by colleagues, journalists, and members of the public as a coward, after it was revealed that during the Westminster terror attack last March, in which PC Keith Palmer was fatally stabbed, he drove off, sharpish, having first locked the windows of his car.

To be fair, he was unarmed and had no protective equipment; he also had the safety of his passengers to consider. So maybe he was simply following police protocol. But, having said that, this story is profoundy dispiriting; one expects more from a British Bobby and a knight of the realm (or indeed any Englishman worth his salt).

The Case of Asifa Lahore

Courage comes in many forms, including that of gay drag queen Asif Quaraishi - more widely known as Asifa Lahore - who has bravely taken on the role of spokesperson for those within the British Asian community who want the right to openly express their queer sexual identities without being ostracized, or living in fear of violent repercussions.   

But naivety also comes in many forms and it seems to me that Quaraishi, whilst clearly a sensitive and intelligent individual - not to mention an amusing performer - is being naive in his demand that he not only be accepted as gaysian, but also recognised as a devout Muslim. This is probably not going to happen anytime soon and does rather suggest he wants to have his cake and eat it.

For I think Islam - like Christianity - is very clear on where it stands on the practice of homosexuality: it doesn't much care for it. Based on teachings in the Qur'an, Islamic scholars condemn sodomy as an obscene act (al-fahsha') and as an abnormality (shudhudh) which is contrary to God's will and the natural order, thereby likely to lead to the destruction of humanity.  

Unfortunately, not everything is open to personal interpretation and sometimes a choice has to be made between mutually exclusive and irreconcilable oppositions, such as, in this case, the right to individual and sexual freedom, or strict religious observance. You can't be both a defiant homosexual in complete good faith and practice and a subordinate Muslim in complete good faith and practice. To try, is to lead a compromised life full of contradictions. But perhaps we all lack integrity truth be told ...             

What really surprises me is why anyone who is so clearly disprivileged and despised within a homophobic religious tradition would want to belong to it in any way shape or form; is it really so much harder (or more dangerous) to come out as a secular atheist than a cross-dressing homosexual? Is apostasy still the most unforgivable sin in the minds of believers? 


Notes:

Those interested in this subject should view Muslim Drag Queens, a First Cut documentary for Channel 4, dir. Marcus Plowright, to be broadcast on 24 August, 2015.

Those who want to see a video of super-glamorous Asifa Lahore in action can click here, or visit her website: asifalahore.com