News Roundup

Sparks from the Telegraph

Dallas—Robert Scott, education commissioner, yesterday defended the controversial decision by the Texas Education Agency to remove Chris Comer from her office. "My understanding is that the e-mail she forwarded," he explained, "let me rephrase that. She wasn't advocating for evolution. But she may have given the impression that ... we were taking a position as an agency–not as an individual but as an agency–on a matter." He elaborated, "...you can be in favor of a science without bashing people's faith, too. I don't know all the facts, but I think that may be the real issue here. I can't speak to motivation but ... we have standards of conduct and expect those standards of conduct to be followed." Asked if Chris Comer had in fact been forced to resign over forwarding an email notification of a talk by Barbara Forrest on opposing anti-science, Scott replied, "That's an absolute falsehood. It's a personnel matter. The really frustrating part about this is, if I start talking about activities and things that happened, I get sued. So all I can say is that there are other factors...." What those factors might have been he declined to say. (Dallas News)

New Delhi—Faced with traffic signals that don't allow enough time to cross the street, dangerous drivers, and inadequate crosswalks, thought to be responsible for the death of more than nine hundred pedestrians a year, the Indian government did the only logical thing. Police in New Delhi began handing out tickets for jaywalking. Pedestrians appeared puzzled and angered by this response. "We have to run, the lights don't turn green long enough for us to cross," D.K. Bhargav explained. Constable Suresh Sharma does not buy this explanation, attributing pedestrian behavior to rural migrants. "How would a villager know about these lights?" he asked rhetorically. "There are no traffic lights in their villages." Police issued violators twenty-rupee fines and lectured them on the proper way to cross the streets. "Our aim is not to prosecute people, our aim is to educate them," police spokesman Rajan Bhagat said. The message is apparently being received: "Next time I'll be watchful," observed Vasant Pant, a young courier late making deliveries. "I'll look to see if there's a traffic policeman before crossing." (Reuters India}

Des Moines—Mike Huckabee, a southern Baptist preacher now running for President as a Republican, became defensive when asked about his eccentric views on science. "That's an irrelevant question to ask me—I'm happy to answer what I believe, but what I believe is not what's going to be taught in 50 different states," he said evasively. He did admit to believing that an invisible man built the earth and the sky. "I wasn't there when he did it, so how he did it, I don't know," he snapped. When asked about the propriety of putting such notions on a par with hard science in schools, he conceded, "I don't think schools ought to indoctrinate kids to believe one thing or another." (Yahoo News)

Dubious Documents: The Case of the Duwamish Prophet

[This is the second piece in a series on the ten most interesting literary hoaxes.]

#10: William Drannan's Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains
#9: Chief Seattle's Speech

Growing up in the Pacific Northwest it was impossible to evade some sort of consideration of the aboriginal peoples who had come before us. They themselves didn't put in much of an appearance--oh, there was one fellow who used to show up at assemblies and explain to us the ceremonial dances, but not much past that--but their dead surrounded us. Their names littered the landscape, their legends were featured in classroom and museum presentations, and of course there was that large hole not far from summer camp that had once held their bones, until some treasure-hunters dynamited it.

"Sometimes the Indians win, and sometimes the real people win," one of my brothers observed as a child, explaining why he liked a particular show. The Indians weren't real to us; they belonged to the realm of pirates and leprechauns. So the image of the Indian, as it were, was available for any sort of use anybody would like. Test patterns, for example, or team icons. Whatever.

The environmental movement and the American Indian seem to be a perfect match, image-wise anyway. The untrammeled wilderness, the Bald Eagle, a native American in a canoe--perfect. And what would be better than, say, a native American prophet, excoriating the Euro-American for the destruction of the natural environment?

Let us say that a native American prophet once said:

Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the Earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the Earth befalls the sons of the Earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.

This we know - the Earth does not belong to man--man belongs to the Earth. This we know. ... Whatever befalls the Earth--befalls the sons of the Earth. Man did not weave the web of life--he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. ... we do not understand when the buffalo are slaughtered, the wild horses tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by talking wires. Where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the Eagle? Gone. The end of living and the beginning of survival.

Them are some words, aren't they? Personally, I wish that Chief Seattle (or Seathl or Sealth) really had said them. The Duwamish leader, after whom the city of Seattle is named, is credited with saying them at any rate. There is room for doubt on the face of it. Native American speeches in the Pacific Northwest tended to go through two levels of translation to get to English--first into Chinook Jargon, and then into English. Now the Jargon was a marvelously flexible instrument for trade and the like, but was rather limited in expressing abstract thoughts. "Whatever befalls the Earth befalls the sons of Earth. Man did not weave the web of life--he is merely a strand in it." I'd love to see what the Jargon actually said before the English translator got hold of it. I can't help but feel that the guy is being a bit fancy with his renderings, to say the least. And then when we get down to the part about the buffalo being slaughtered and the view obstructed with wires--when exactly was Chief Seattle supposed to be talking? In 1854? Something is wrong there; he is describing events of the future, things that had not happened in his time. Further, why on earth would a Puget Sound dweller give a damn about the buffalo? The odds are--and I'm by no means the first person to think this--that the chief never so much as saw a buffalo in his life. This is salmon country, damn it. Not the great plains. No buffalo here. And the great slaughters of the buffalo herds was still in the future in 1854, along with wires blocking the views of the hills. If this speech is authentic, it is remarkable in its anticipation of future events and attitudes. If it is authentic, then Chief Seattle was indeed a prophet.

So let's take a look at the evidence, shall we? I don't mean to be sarcastic here, but when something looks like a late-twentieth-century artifact, sounds like late-twentieth-century prose, and is informed by late-twentieth-century attitudes, I tend to suppose that it is a piece from the late twentieth century. If it isn't, well then we've got something really amazing here, and it deserves some checking out.

So let's go back to 1854 for the moment. What were the historical circumstances? It was not an easy time for anybody in the Pacific Northwest, or Oregon Country, as it was then known. James K. Polk, as everybody will recall from American History in high school, had got himself elected president on the slogan "Fifty-four Forty or fight," and then proceeded to sell out the people who had voted for him by (wisely) accepting forty-nine as the dividing line between American and British Oregon (and thus avoiding a two-front war with both Britain and Mexico). The reward for this was the gain of what is today western Washington, including the present city of Seattle and the whole Puget Sound region, as the wise money had been on the Columbia River as the dividing line between the nations. It was a blow to Hudson's Bay Company, which had significant holdings north of the Columbia and south of the forty-ninth parallel. And it was serious blow to those native hunters and trappers who owed their present prosperity and entire way of life to trade with the Hudson's Bay Company.

This, however, was only the beginning. With the title (so to speak) to Oregon Country cleared, a main block to immigration was removed. Starting in 1847 settlers from the United States starting streaming over the borders and taking up land claims. Conflicts with the local peoples inevitably followed. Ben Wright's expedition against the Modocs, the Rogue River Wars, and a host of other conflicts followed. Propagandists--especially one Charles S. Drew--argued for a war of extermination against all the coastal peoples, from California (newly a state) to the forty-ninth parallel. Drew was adamant that the time to begin was now, before the native Americans acquired guns and learned how to use them.

Even without active conflict the local peoples were in turmoil. Many were frankly starving. Settlers destroyed native food supplies, and nobody did anything towards providing a substitute. The attitude of the settlers towards them was a compound of racism and class disparagement--the locals were widely considered much as the homeless are today--disgusting people who brought their problems on their own heads by being drunken and lazy.

When Washington Territorial Governor Isaac Stevens was appointed, one of his main jobs (the position of Commissioner for Indian Affairs went along with the appointment) was to get the original inhabitants of the lands off the backs of the newcomers, primarily by getting them to agree to a greatly reduced range of lands for occupation. As he went through his new territory, planting the seeds of future conflicts with a liberal hand, making promises he had neither the ability nor the intention of keeping, he held talk after talk with various local groups. It was on one of these occasions, in 1854, that he met with Chief Seattle.

There is no contemporary transcription of the speech, and no good reason to suppose that one ever existed. There is, however, one record of Chief Seattle's spoken words from the general process: he said a few words on the occasion of the Point Elliott Council, held 21-2 January 1855. Governor Stevens was there to work out the details of a treaty, and to get something on paper to send back to Congress. He explained:

The Great Father thinks you ought to have homes, and he wants you to have a school where your children can learn to read, and can be made farmers and be taught trades. He is willing you should catch fish in the waters, and get roots and berries back in the mountains. He wishes you all to be virtuous and industrious, and to become a happy and prosperous community. Is this good, and do you want this? If not, we will talk further.

All answered "We do," according to the record, and after some further comments on the sale of their lands, and a mass celebrated by the native Americans (who were Roman Catholic), the following exchange was recorded. Governor Stevens spoke:

Does any one object to what I have said? Does my venerable friend Seattle object? I want Seattle to give his heart to me and to his people.

Seattle replied:

I look upon you as my father. All the Indians have the same good feeling toward you, and will send it on the paper to the Great Father. All of them—men, old men, women, and children—rejoice that he has sent you to take care of them. My mind is like yours; I don't want to say more. My heart is very good towards Dr. Maynard [a physician who was present] ; I want always to get medicine from him.

That's it. For a moment we hear the voice of the Duwamish chief, and then he disappears into the background again. He emerges once again in the record a day later, during a token presentation of gifts. Seattle presented a white flag to the governor, saying:

Now, by this we make friends, and put away all bad feelings, if we ever had any. We are the friends of the Americans. All the Indians are of the same mind. We look upon you as our father. We will never change our minds, but, since you have been to see us, we will always be the same. Now! now! do you send.this paper of our hearts to the Great Chief. That is all I have to say.

And that is indeed all Chief Seattle has to say, at least for decades.

Now, let's fast-forward past the massacre at Sand Creek, the Modoc War, Little Big Horn, and the rest, to the year 1887. In that year--but let me digress for a moment.

As the memories of the frontier faded into the past--and for the residents of Oregon and Washington, anyway, frontier times were long gone by the 1880s--it became fashionable for newspapers to run series of articles regaling the readers with tales of these now forgotten and near legendary times. They range considerably in value, some of them adding plausible details to the bare historical record, and others seemingly made up of cobwebs and moonshine. The one I'm about to mention seems to fall in the territory somewhere between.

So in 1887 a piece by one Henry A. Smith appeared in Seattle Sunday Star. It was the tenth article in the series "Early Reminiscences." The subject: a particularly memorable speech by Chief Seattle, a speech at which the author was present and took notes. According to Smith, "Chief Seattle arose with all the dignity of a senator, who carries the responsibilities of a great nation on his shoulders. Placing one hand on the, governor's head and slowly pointing heavenward with the index finger of the other, he commenced his memorable address in solemn and impressive tones."

Yonder sky that has wept tears of compassion on our fathers for centuries untold, and which, to us, looks eternal, may change. Today it is fair, tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like stars that never set. What Seattle says, the great chief, Washington, can rely upon, with as much certainty as our paleface brothers can rely upon the return of the seasons.

The son of the white chief says his father sends us greetings of friendship and good will. This is kind, for we know he has little need of our friendship in return, because his people are many. They are like the grass that covers the vast prairies, while my people are few, and resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain.

In this speech Chief Seattle muses on the differences between his people and the governor's:

No, we are two distinct races and must ever remain so. There is little in common between us. The ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their final resting place is hallowed ground, while you wander away from the tombs of your fathers seemingly without regret.

Your religion was written on tables of stone by the iron finger of an angry God, lest you might forget it, The red man could never remember nor comprehend it.

Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors, the dream of our old men, given them by the great Spirit, and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people.

Your dead cease to love you and the homes of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb. They wander far off beyond the stars, are soon forgotten, and never return. Our dead never forget the beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its winding rivers, its great mountains and its sequestered vales, and they ever yearn in tenderest affection over the lonely hearted living and often return to visit and comfort them.

He looks ahead to a time when his people will have vanished:

Day and night cannot dwell together. The red man has ever fled the approach of the white man, as the changing mists on the mountainside flee before the blazing morning sun. ...

It matters but little where we pass the remainder of our days. They are not many.

The Indian's night promises to be dark. No bright star hovers about the horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Some grim Nemesis of our race is on the red man's trail, and wherever he goes he will still hear the sure approaching footsteps of the fell destroyer and prepare to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter. A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of all the mighty hosts that once filled this broad land or that now roam in fragmentary bands through these vast solitudes will remain to weep over the tombs of a people once as powerful and as hopeful as your own.

But why should be repine? Why should I murmur at the fate of my people? Tribes are made up of individuals and are no better than they. Men come and go like the waves of the sea. A tear, a tamanawus, a dirge, and they are gone from our longing eyes forever. Even the white man, whose God walked and talked with him, as friend to friend, is not exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We shall see.

He refers to his people's connection with the land:

Every part of this country is sacred to my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove has been hallowed by some fond memory or some sad experience of my tribe.

Even the rocks that seem to lie dumb as they swelter in the sun along the silent seashore in solemn grandeur thrill with memories of past events connected with the fate of my people, and the very dust under your feet responds more lovingly to our footsteps than to yours, because it is the ashes of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch, for the soil is rich with the life of our kindred.

And he concludes with a warning:

And when the last red man shall have perished from the earth and his memory among white men shall have become a myth, these shores shall swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children shall think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway or in the silence of the woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night, when the streets of your cities and villages shall be silent, and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled and still love this beautiful land. The white man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not altogether powerless.

Here, it seems, at last, we have the authentic voice of the old chief. Or do we? As Jerry L. Clark notes, "The sentiments expressed in the speech attributed to the old chieftain are consonant with those held by persons disturbed by the destruction of the Indian world by the development of the American frontier." And unlike the 1855 speeches quoted above, this one shows no signs of having passed through a Chinook Jargon stage.

Ah, but Henry Smith was fluent in the Duwamish language, we are told, and was thus able to bypass the translation into the Jargon altogether.

Okay, fair enough--though as Smith only arrived in the area at the beginning of 1853, it is natural to wonder just how fluent he could have been. Still, maybe he was a quick study. A biography describes him as a "rare scholar".

So can we establish the time and place of this speech? Jerry Clark observes that Governor Stevens visited the area three times--in January 1854, March 1854, and in January 1855. The last was the occasion of the treaty-related speeches quoted above. Internal evidence shows that this speech cannot belong to the last visit; the possible treaty is spoken of as something in the future, something still to be discussed by Seattle's people. So can we establish which of the two earlier occasions is the likely occasion for this speech?

The strongest probability is the March 1854 meeting. According to Clark this meeting occurred when "Stevens rushed to the area at the head of a detachment of troops in search of Indians who had murdered a settler. During a tense meeting with Seattle and Chief Patkanan of the Snoqualmies, Stevens introduced himself and explained the purpose of his visit. Surveyor George Gibbs later recalled that 'Seattle made a great speech declaring his good disposition toward the whites.'" Clark argues that this can't be the speech, however, "because another local citizen, Luther Collins, served as a translator into Chinook, the trade language of the Puget Sound tribes, and an Indian in turn translated into the local tongue. Obviously, Dr. Smith and his language skills could not have been available to Stevens during this important confrontation. In fact, Dr. Smith is not listed among those present at this council."

Now with all due respect to Jerry L. Clark, this doesn't actually settle the matter. Who did the translating wasn't always a function of who was best suited for the job, and not everybody who was present was necessarily listed. If Dr. Smith was simply a local resident hanging around and taking notes (which is what it sounds like--he admits he did not take notes of what the other speakers said; only of Chief Seattle's speech), his presence might well not be noted. And as a relative newcomer, his knowledge of the local languages might well be discounted.

But taken together--the difficulty in seeing how Dr. Smith could have become fluent in the language in less than a year, the lack of evidence for his being at the council, and the fact that the quoted portions of the speech do not match the description given by George Gibbs, but rather seem to reflect the concerns of people decades later--these points cast considerable doubt on it. It would be a lot more reassuring, frankly, if Dr. Smith had been there, and if there were any hard evidence for his alleged knowledge of the Duwamish language. At the very least.

The next change was relatively minor, but illustrates the sort of thing that happens in uncontrolled transmission of a text: somebody in the early twentieth century added to the end of the speech the words, "Dead--did I say? There is no death. Only a change of worlds." (The editor was John M. Rich according to Jerry Clark, and A. C. Baillard according to Donald Simanek.) In any case John Rich's 1932 book, Chief Seattle's Unanswered Challenge, appears to be the source for subsequent reprints.

Again, let's zoom forward a bit. Enter William Arrowsmith, translator, scholar, film critic, political activist--in fact, what wasn't he? If you've ever spent time with Aristophanes or Euripides, or with Petronius, even, chances are that you've read one of Arrowsmith's translations. In the late 1960s he came out with what some called a new translation of Chief Seattle's speech. For example, where's Smith's version had read:

Your dead cease to love you and the homes of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb. They wander far off beyond the stars, are soon forgotten, and never return. Our dead never forget the beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its winding rivers, its great mountains and its sequestered vales, and they ever yearn in tenderest affection over the lonely hearted living and often return to visit and comfort them.

Arrowsmith's read:

Your dead forget you and the country of their birth as soon as they go beyond the grave and walk among the stars. They are quickly forgotten and they never return. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth. It is their mother. They always love and remember her rivers, her great mountains, her valleys. They long for the living, who are lonely too and who long for the dead. And their spirits often return to visit and console us.

Now William Arrowsmith was an amazing guy, truly a "rare scholar"--but could even he somehow conjure up the lost Duwamish original of a century-old speech and re-translate it into English? He knew his way around ancient Greek and Latin the way a blind man knows the inside of his own house--but did he also include this relatively obscure native American dialect among his accomplishments? This is way beyond the boundaries of the possible, and in fact the Arrowsmith "translation" is simply a paraphrase of Smith's version, minus some of the over-the-top Victorianisms, and given a distinctly twentieth-century twist. It's a nice job--here for example is his version of the conclusion of the speech:

When the last red man has vanished from this earth, and his memory is only a story among the whites, these shores will still swarm with the invisible dead of my people. And when you children's children think they are alone in the fields, the forests, the shops, the highways, or the quiet of the woods, they will not be alone. There is no place in this country where a man can be alone. At night when the streets of your towns and cities are quiet, and you think they are empty, they will throng with the returning spirits that once thronged them, and that still love these places. The white man will never be alone.

So let him be just and deal kindly with my people. The dead have power too.

As I said, a nice job. But a paraphrase, not a new translation.

The next stage in this saga came fairly quickly, around 1970, when film critic Ted Perry wrote a screenplay for an environmentally-conscious film put out by the Southern Baptists. Ted Perry, who knew William Arrowsmith, was inspired by his version of the speech to write a speech for a native American chief on the sanctity of the land. Never having seen the film Home myself, I'm not clear on how this speech fit into things--and besides, apparently the film altered Perry's text further, turning it into a letter from Chief Seattle to the President of the United States. Linda Marsa wrote in Omni "The film's producer Christianized Seattle's sensibilities and dropped Perry's name--despite his protests--from the script, which left the impression that these were Seattle's words." Ted Perry has always claimed authorship of the speech. "Why are we so willing to accept a text like this if it's attributed to a Native American?" he is quoted as saying. "It's another case of placing Native Americans up on a pedestal and not taking responsibility for our own actions."

Dubious Documents: The Unlikely Life of William Drannan

While wandering about online looking for Dubious Document material I might have overlooked, I stumbled onto two different lists of the greatest literary hoaxes of all time (here and here). Neither broke any new ground, exactly, and both had some rather questionable entries. Secret Mark and a supposedly forged tragedy of Sophocles really don’t belong here, for example, and others—Clifford Irving's autobiography of Howard Hughes and Hitler's supposed diaries—were frauds so transparent that they really are more examples of publishers' impositions than literary hoaxes. Anyway, after thinking about it, I thought I'd put together my own list of, well, not necessarily the greatest literary hoaxes of all time, but, shall we say, the most interesting literary hoaxes of all time. I intend to start with the tenth item on my list and work my way up over the course of time to number one.

So first comes #10: William Drannan's Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains (1899).

When I was looking through my grandmother's friendship book—that's a book people used to keep their collection of people in—there was a space for each person to enter his or her favorite book. There was an interesting range of books there. The Bible put in an appearance several times, and Riders of the Purple Sage, and so did another, perhaps less familiar volume. It was nothing less than the true-life adventures of a frontier scout—the boon companion of Kit Carson, and the chief of scouts during the Modoc War. William Drannan may not have made much of an impression in the history books, but he definitely made an impression on the minds of boys growing up in the days before World War I changed everything. Little Robert E. Howard—later to be the creator of Conan the Barbarian and King Kull—read his account avidly, and years later recalled seeing the author "wandering about the streets of Mineral Wells … trying to sell the pitiful, illiterate book of his life of magnificent adventure and high courage; a little, worn old man in the stained and faded buckskins of a vanished age, friendless and penniless." Howard—a contemporary of my grandmother and her friends, by the way—would have been about five or six at the time. "God," he wrote H. P. Lovecraft, "what a lousy end for a man whose faded blue eyes had once looked on the awesome panorama of untracked prairie and sky-etched mountain, who had ridden at the side of Kit Carson, guided the waggon-trains across the deserts to California, drunk and revelled in the camps of the buffalo-hunters, and fought hand to hand with painted Sioux and wild Comanche. … Always the simple, strong men go into the naked lands and fight heroical battles to win and open those lands to civilization. Then comes civilization, mainly characterized by the smooth, the dapper, the bland, the shrewd men who play with business and laws and politics and they gain the profits; they enjoy the fruit of other men’s toil, while the real pioneers starve."

The thing is, it wasn't really like that at all. Thirty-One Years on the Plains is actually a work of fiction, with precious little in the way of facts to back it up. No biographer of Kit Carson has ever taken it seriously. Actual participants in the Modoc war—Major Frazier Boutelle, whose cool courage saved the troops in the Lost River Fight; "Colonel" William Thompson, a leader of the Oregon Volunteers and a legend in his own mind; Jeff Riddle, the son of the interpreters Frank and Toby Riddle—all of whom were unquestionably present—denounced the work as a pack of lies. And so it is. William Drannan told of his conversations with the Modoc leader, Captain Jack—who spoke no English. (He apparently understood it well enough, but always spoke through interpreters.) Drannan described two failed attempts to take the Modoc stronghold—one under Frank Wheaton and one under General Canby—when only one (the former) took place. He wrote of a "Mr. Berry" who came in to negotiate with the Modocs (when he, Drannan, could have done a better job)—a man unknown to the history of the war. And he cast himself as the Chief of Scouts—a rôle actually taken by a fellow named McKay—Daring Donald McKay, as he billed himself in a dime novel version of his life.

The real William Drannan continues to elude researchers. He apparently was involved in the hotel and restaurant businesses in Seattle and Portland during the 1890s, and he and his wife hawked his books—according to some his wife actually wrote them—around the country during the early years of the twentieth century. Not much else seems to have turned up on him.

Is there any truth in the book? As a student of the Modoc War, I was fascinated by the oddity that while Drannan was wrong on major events, his details were often correct. He had the right people at the right places—the obscure people, that is. Not the major players. I got the feeling that he must have at least lived in the area at some time. Even his mistakes could be interesting. The "Mr. Berry" he referred to, for instance. The real person who took the rôle assigned to "Mr. Berry" was a lawyer named Elijah Steele. He had two partners in his law practice: Rosborough (who also played a part in the Modoc War) and Berry (who didn't). Now, naming the wrong partner in a local law firm is the kind of mistake that only a local would make.

And another thing—he remembered a footnote to the war that made a local stir but barely attracted any attention outside the area. When the Modoc leaders were hanged afterward, the reporters present had a kind of race going to see who could first get the news to the telegraph station. Relays of horses and riders were set up by rival papers to see who could get to the Yreka telegraph first—some sixty or seventy miles away. The San Francisco Chronicle man even tried carrier pigeons. One reporter tried to get ahead of the others by sending his report to a telegraph station further off, in Ashland, Oregon. There was quite a bit of local excitement over these preparations, but little outside interest. Drannan, however, cast himself as one of the messengers carrying the news of the execution.

According to his story, he was the one who came up with the idea of trying the Ashland telegraph rather than the closer Yreka station. In his version of events his trusty horse—I forget his name—came through for him and Drannan carried the day, getting the news out first from Ashland. Needless to say, this is not how events actually worked themselves out. In point of fact the Ashland rider got drunk on the way, fell off his horse, and came in last in the race. Was Drannan that rider? Probably not, but the significant thing is that he remembered the event at all, when it was so quickly forgotten by everybody else. (His is the only version of the Modoc War to mention it until Oliver Knight's Following the Indian Wars came out in 1960.)

Some slight confirmation for his presence at the time comes from a note buried among the Applegate papers; according to this Drannan was a civilian contractor bringing supplies to the army during the Modoc War. So perhaps he was there, somewhere, at the edges of significant events. What about the Kit Carson stuff? Again, there is a slight confirmation in a relatively recently discovered inscription in Arizona. Kit Carson was there in 1849, and if this inscription is to be believed, so was William Drannan. The rock inscription reads "Killed Indians here 1849 Willie Drannan." So maybe, just perhaps, there was a grain of truth here as well. "What do you make of this?" an Elder of an Arizona tribe asked, on being presented with the evidence. He was told that it was a part of history. "Well, I call it murder," he responded. A far cry from the "life of magnificent adventure and high courage" Howard saw it as.

Next: #9--Chief Seattle's Speech.

Quotation of the Day

The difference between "borrow and spend" republicans and "tax and spend" democrats is that at least the democrats try to have the money to pay for their spending. Call me crazy, but growing up I always thought that "don't buy what you can't afford to pay for" was one of those, "fiscal responsibility" issues that conservatives like to sing about. Maxing out the credit card bill is about the furthest thing from "fiscal responsibility" than one can get.--Pablo

The Rules of the Game

I saw the following comic strip over at Denialism.



I personally find it trying--I meant to write tiring, but trying works too--to deal with arguments from people who don't seem to understand the basics of the rules of the game. If one person is playing bridge and his opponent is playing Monopoly™ little of substance is likely to result, though a good time may be had by all. Bewitched, Bothered, and Bemildred--the three bats in the Walt Kelly cartoon--used to have that problem all the time. At least they seemed to enjoy the confusion.

With All Due Respect

Simulated drowning is a long-recognized form of torture. It has been used for centuries. To put it as simply as possible, yes, water-boarding is torture. With this in mind, it is interesting to read the following testimony given by our next Attorney-General to Congress.

DURBIN: We had questions yesterday about the issue of torture under the Geneva Conventions. The techniques which have been attributed to this administration involve painful stress positions, threatening detainees with dogs, forced nudity, water-boarding—that is, simulated drowning—and mock execution.

When we had the judge advocates general testify, I asked, point blank, whether they believed that these techniques violated the Geneva Conventions. They said yes.

And I asked if they felt if those techniques were used against an American detainee, they would be violative of the Geneva Convention. And they answered in the affirmative.

What is your opinion?

MUKASEY: They—I mean, I'm certainly not in a position here to argue to argue with a judge advocate general's view that they violated the Geneva Conventions and that, whether used against us or against anybody else, that they would.

That said, I think we have to also recognize that when we're talking about coercive methods of interrogation, this is not a matter of choosing pleasant alternatives over unpleasant alternatives or good alternatives over bad alternatives.

It's a choice among bad alternatives.

What the experience is of people in the Judge Advocate General's Corps who are enormously well-disciplined and very skilled, what that experience has been with captured soldiers, captured military people from enemies we fought in the past may very well be far different from the experience that we're having with unlawful combatants who we face now. It's a very different kind of person.

[DURBIN:] Well, I want to make sure I understand that response, because I think you may have created a division here in treatment, arguing that if these techniques were used in the past, before the current threat of terrorism, it would be a different circumstance under the Geneva Convention than it might be today.

I want to make sure I don't draw the wrong conclusion from that previous answer. So if you'd clarify it for me, please.

MUKASEY: I'm not sure how I can—I mean, I'm sorry. I'm not sure how I can clarify it.

DURBIN: Well, let me go back. I understood you to say that the judge advocates general, speaking about the Geneva Conventions and these specific methods of torture, may have been referring to previous times, previous conflicts, and that this conflict and this challenge of terrorism may present a different set of challenges that might be viewed or interpreted differently under Geneva Conventions.

If that is not what you said, please clarify it.

[MUKASEY:] I'm not sufficiently familiar with interpretations of the Geneva Conventions to be offering views on what would or would not come within it or outside it.

What I thought I was talking about is procedures that are acceptable to the military, that are authorized in the field manual and that represent the limit of what it is that the armed forces can do.

There are other techniques that are, as I understand it, that may be used by—with proper authorization—people outside the military. And those are not covered in the field manual.

DURBIN: But I'm speaking to the Geneva Conventions and the judge advocates general said the techniques that I described to you violated Common Article 3, and this is the baseline test that applies to everyone, not just soldiers. And I believe that the Supreme Court agreed with that conclusion in Hamdan.

Do you see that differently?

MUKASEY: What part of Common Article 3 the Supreme Court found in Hamdan was applicable through, I believe through the Universal Code of Military Justice, unless I'm confusing my cases.

I can't, as I sit here, recall precisely what part of Article 3 the Supreme Court found applicable. I thought they were talking about the need for a trial and for an opportunity for a detainee to get a hearing. I did not think that that concerned interrogation techniques.

DURBIN: Let me try to bring it to the bottom line, because I want to make sure if there is common ground we find it, if not, that it's clear on the record.

I want to understand as to these interrogation techniques whether you believe that they would constitute torture and therefore could not be used against any detainee, military or otherwise, by the United States government.

MUKASEY: I don't think that I can responsibly talk about any technique here, because of the very—I'm not going to discuss, and I should not—I'm sorry, I can't discuss, and I think it would be irresponsible of me to discuss particular techniques with which I am not familiar, when there are people who are using coercive techniques and who are being authorized to use coercive techniques, and for me to say something that is going to put their careers or freedom at risk simply because I want to be congenial, I don't think it would be responsible of me to do that.

DURBIN: This is not a congeniality contest, and I'm sorry that I've gone over, Mr. Chairman.

But, for instance, I just want to—if I can make one last point, on the issue of water-boarding, simulated drowning.

The United States has long taken the position that this is a war crime. In 1901, the U.S. Army Major Edwin Glenn sentenced to 10 years hard labor for water-boarding a captured insurgent in the Philippines.

U.S. military commissions after World War II prosecuted Japanese troops for engaging in water-boarding. The torture statute makes it a crime to threaten someone with imminent death. Water-boarding is a threat of imminent death.

I'm hoping that you can at least look at this one technique and say that clearly constitutes torture, it should not be the policy of the United States to engage in water-boarding, whether the detainee is military or otherwise.

MUKASEY: It is not constitutional for the United States to engage in torture in any form, be it water-boarding or anything else.

DURBIN: Take that as your answer.

(CROSSTALK)

LEAHY: I want to make sure I fully understand. But I wrote down about three different times you said: Unless it is authorized. Are you saying that techniques can be authorized that are not constitutional?

MUKASEY: No. That is emphatically not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that techniques can be authorized that are beyond the Army field manual, and I should not get into a discussion of what they might be or in what combination they might be authorized.

SEN. PATRICK J. LEAHY, D-VT. CHAIRMAN: But if they—simply because something is authorized, if you have a law that says that it is torture and it is not allowed, is there any way it could be still authorized?

MUKASEY: If it is torture as defined in the Constitution, or as defined by constitutional standards, it can't be authorized. We don't have the Nuremberg defense here.

LEAHY: Is the current statute outlawing torture constitutional?

MUKASEY: I believe it is.

LEAHY: So that if something was authorized outside that statute, or that violates that statute, that authorization is illegal.

MUKASEY: Correct.

DURBIN: Thank you. Thank you, Judge, Mr. Chairman.

LEAHY: Senator—which one's next? I've lost track.

Senator Whitehouse? Sorry.

SEN. SHELDON WHITEHOUSE, D-R.I.: Just to finish that thought: So is water-boarding constitutional?

MUKASEY: I don't know what's involved in the technique. If water-boarding is torture, torture is not constitutional.

WHITEHOUSE: If water-boarding is constitutional is a massive hedge.

MUKASEY: No, I said, if it's torture. I'm sorry. I said, if it's torture.

WHITEHOUSE: If it's torture? That's a massive hedge. I mean, it either is or it isn't.

Do you have an opinion on whether water-boarding, which is the practice of putting somebody in a reclining position, strapping them down, putting cloth over their faces and pouring water over the cloth to simulate the feeling of drowning—is that constitutional?

MUKASEY: If it amounts to torture, it is not constitutional.

WHITEHOUSE: I'm very disappointed in that answer. I think it is purely semantic.

As you consider this, I'd like to offer you at least a thought that I'd ask you to consider. This comes from testimony that was brought before the Senate Intelligence Committee, that is declassified.

It comes from a military officer who's conducted interrogations, who was team chief during the Gulf War, who had all the services under his command, interrogating literally thousands of prisoners.

He was an adviser to special operations task forces during Iraqi Freedom. He says, I have had a chance to really look at the academic, theoretical side of interrogation, but I am steeped in the operational side.

I asked him, From a point of view of intelligence-gathering effectiveness, would you, could you, or should you go beyond the Army Field Manual and the techniques that are authorized in the Army Field Manual, in order to obtain intelligence?

His answer: Senator, I thank you so much for that question, because I've been waiting 20 years to answer it. That is, absolutely not. I am not at all limited by the Army Field Manual, in terms of what I need to do to generate useful information.

That's the key—accurate useful information. Not leading to questions to force somebody to say what they think I want to hear. And the full spectrum of their knowledgeability, not answering only the questions I ask, but developing what I call operational accord, a relationship that they see it's in their best interests under non-pressure, non-coercive circumstances, that it would be in their best interest to answer these questions fully.

It gives an example of critical intelligence gathered in a search for Scud sites in the Iraq war and explains that he received it because the individual said, I'm so amazed at my treatment. I wanted, if I was going to be captured, to be captured by one of your allies. Not by the Americans, because I was told you were animals. You've treated me like a gentleman. You've treated me with respect. You are clearly knowledgeable of my customs and my culture. I'm more than happy to answer any questions that you have.

So, I asked him to confirm this. What you mean to say was you don't see the constraints of the army field manual—the moral constraints, the legal constraints—as in any way inhibiting the effectiveness of your examination techniques? That you could do everything you wanted to, that you missed for nothing because of those restrictions—is that what you intended to say?

The answer: That's precisely what I meant to say. I don't see those as limiting my ability to work, the spirit or the letter of that guidance. My approach was what we call a relationship-based approach. I've never felt any necessity or operational requirement to bring physical, psychological or emotional pressure on a source to win their cooperation.

So, following the guidance in the field manual, I feel unconstrained in my ability to work in the paradigm I've taught for so many years—22 years of 100 percent interrogation experience.

So then I asked him, Why do other countries do this? And he said, That gets to the very heart of the matter, and it is this. There are two objectives that one can pursue in interrogation: either winning cooperation, or compliance. They seem very similar, but there are profound differences.

Compliance means to take action that is against your interest, that you don't support—it has nothing to do with intelligence. Cooperation is winning a source's willingness to provide useful information. What the Chinese were interested, the Koreans, the North Vietnamese was maybe five percent intelligence, 95 percent compliance, meaning creating propaganda.

That's a while different paradigm. And the approaches that they use, like sleep deprivation and torture, ultimately will get any one of us in this room to do things that we couldn't imagine today, but it doesn't necessarily mean our ability to provide useful information.

And he concluded later by saying, So, I think the key points there is—are we trying to produce compliance, which is propaganda, or cooperation, which leads to intelligence? I hope, as you're evaluating these techniques, you will also consider the, I believe, widely held view of career professionals in the FBI, in the military, in the interrogation field who think that these techniques are not only wrong, but ineffective.

The part that fascinates me here is Mukasey's touching concern for torturers—criminals who may be operating within the US government in violation of both US and international law. He thinks it would be "irresponsible" to say something about them "that is going to put their careers or freedom at risk". He doesn't want to call a torturer a criminal just to be "congenial." Congenial! Could there be a word more ill-chosen than that one? This is a moral issue that should be made crystal clear. Torture is a crime. If there are torturers operating under the control of the US government—or people who knowingly connive at torture, say by sending detainees to places where they will be tortured—these people should be punished. Their careers and freedom should be at risk. In point of fact their careers and freedom should be ended. If Mukasey can't come out and say as much in plain English, his career as attorney-general should be ended now—before it has a chance to start.

Random Ratiocination

I haven't been able to write here for awhile--stage fright, maybe. I don't know, really, why my fingers freeze every time I attack the keyboard, but so it's been for the past month. I have amused myself, if nobody else, by adding random articles to Wikipedia every time I notice a gap, but it is a puerile amusement. And it's odd seeing what sorts of things people choose to do there. (I'm sure others find my contributions equally curious.) One writer, for example, chooses to attack the authenticity of Simon Forman's Book of Plays, on rather tenuous grounds--a futile undertaking, one would think. Samuel Tannenbaum took that on years ago on the same sorts of psychological grounds--Forman wouldn't have written like that, the plays chosen for review were ones that Collier--the likely forger, if there was one--would have picked, and so on and so forth. I was particularly impressed by the point that Collier argued that the Richard II played on the occasion of Essex's rebellion was not Shakespeare's and here, by God, is evidence for a that wasn't Shakespeare's in the repertoire of the King's Men (formerly the Lord Chamberlain's Men)--but the thing is, all this should-have could-have stuff is merely suggestive. Sure, Collier or some other unknown forger could have forged just about anything that turns up in the vast field of Elizabethan drama. The issue is, did they? Frankly, I'm much happier with the consensus here, when only weak grounds have been suggested for the piece as a forgery.

On the other hand I find Go Ask Alice, a badly-written work of fiction disguised as a teenager's diary, described as a classic and treated as though it were still possible for it to be somehow authentic. I suppose that's the famed Neutral Point of View at work, but in my opinion, anyway, there's nothing "neutral" about steering a course between hard facts on the one side and sheer fantasy on the other. At some point we should be prepared to say, yes, human beings did land on the moon (even though there are those who say they didn't), and no, Dreyfus was not guilty (even though there are still a few people around who insist that he was), and yes the Holocaust and the Armenian genocide were real, and no Noah's flood and Darius the Mede were not. I'm just saying.

Religious Oppression in the Military

Jason Leopold at Truthout has a follow-up to a story first reported by Ed Brayton at Dispatches from the Culture Wars and noted here:

A military watchdog organization filed a lawsuit in federal court Tuesday against the Pentagon, Secretary of Defense Robert Gates, and a US Army major, on behalf of an Army soldier stationed in Iraq. The suit charges the Pentagon with widespread constitutional violations by allegedly trying to force the soldier to embrace evangelical Christianity and then retaliating against him when he refused.

The complaint, filed in US District Court in Kansas City, by the nonprofit Military Religious Freedom Foundation (MRFF), on behalf of Jeremy Hall, an Army specialist currently on active duty in Speicher, Iraq, alleges that Hall's First Amendment rights were violated beginning last Thanksgiving when, because of his atheist beliefs, he declined to participate in a Christian prayer ceremony commemorating the holiday.

Jeremy Hall, it may be noted, was the author of two letters to Stars and Stripes ("Biased Views Out of Step" and "Camp Quest Legal") I previously quoted from here. Jason Leopold continues:

"Immediately after plaintiff made it known he would decline to join hands and pray, he was confronted, in the presence of other military personnel, by the senior ranking ... staff sergeant who asked plaintiff why he did not want to pray, whereupon plaintiff explained because he is an atheist," says the lawsuit, a copy of which was provided to Truthout. "The staff sergeant asked plaintiff what an atheist is and plaintiff responded it meant that he (plaintiff) did not believe in God. This response caused the staff sergeant to tell plaintiff that he would have to sit elsewhere for the Thanksgiving dinner. Nonetheless, plaintiff sat at the table in silence and finished his meal."

The other specific incident referred to in the article is the one already covered by Ed Brayton's piece. When Jeremy Hall set up a meeting for atheists and freethinkers with permission from the chaplains' office, "his supervisor, Army Major Paul Welborne, broke up the gathering and threatened to retaliate against the soldier by charging him with violating the Uniform Code of Military Justice." Brayton's informant was a bit more graphic:

...the Major ... verbally berated the other attendees, accused them of plotting against Christians and disrespecting soldiers who have died protecting the Constitution, and threatened them with punishment under the UCMJ for their activities (said they were "going down") and said he would do whatever it took to shut the meetings down. Keep in mind that by this point, he had two of the attendees (one soldier fled when the shouting started) standing at the position of attention so that he could yell at them, berate them, and humiliate them. This apparently went on for several minutes at which time the Major shut down the meeting by saying he wasn't some "push-over Chaplain" and that he would not tolerate the meetings to continue.

Jason Leopold adds "The complaint also alleges that Welborne vowed to block Hall's reenlistment in the Army if the atheist group continued to meet - a violation of Hall's First Amendment rights under the Constitution. Welborne is named as a defendant in the lawsuit."

News Bazaar

Sparks from the Telegraph

Paris--A French periodical has revealed an odd moment in the lead-up to the invasion of Iraq. When George Bush was attempting to persuade Jacques Chirac to support his planned attack on the oil-rich nation, he seems to have argued that Gog and Magog were at work in the Middle East, and that the ancient prophecies of Ezekiel were on the verge of being fulfilled. The French President had no idea what the crazed Texan was talking about, and promptly called a theologian at the University of Lausanne for an explanation. Thomas Römer filled him in on these obscure figures from ancient near-Eastern mythology. As we all know, Jacques Chirac was unimpressed. Neither Weapons of Mass Destruction, nor the terrible Gog and Magog, were enough to convince him to join the Coalition of the Willing. And French fries would become freedom fries in the Washington cafeteria. (Rue 89; English translation at Truthout)

Logan, West Virginia--Raging Red reports: "Megan Williams, a 20-year-old mentally challenged black woman from Charleston, was held captive in a shed for a week in Big Creek, WV (about an hour southwest of Charleston) and was raped, beaten, stabbed, choked, forced to eat animal feces, and tortured in various other ways, until police received an anonymous tip and found her. Six people, all white, were arrested and charged with sexual assault, kidnapping, malicious wounding, battery, and lying to the police, among other charges. The group of six includes a mother and her son and another mother and her daughter, plus two other men." Although her captors are said to have repeatedly used racial epithets in addressing her, local pundits are reluctant to call it a hate crime. "Racists? Possibly," editorializes the Charleston Daily Mail, "But emblematic of Logan County's people, of West Virginia 'culture' or 'American race relations,' as some inevitably claimed? No. ... Distortions of that nature are a disservice to Megan Williams, whose suffering deserves the full attention of the justice system." And from Create West Virginia we learn "On WCHS-AM Charleston 580 radio's afternoon call-in show on Wednesday, an African-American man called in to share his frustration. He described himself as a well-educated professional who often runs into intolerance and racism in our state. The hosts had little patience for his attempt to connect the dots between other acts of intolerance in WV with the current Logan County situation. 'Right now, it's about Megan and helping her, not politicizing the situation. We can talk about that other stuff later.'" So it seems talking about racism or the nature of this hate crime is apparently "politicizing" matters. Somehow. Go figure. (From Raging Red

Quotation of the Day

"I am saddened that it is politically inconvenient to acknowledge what everyone knows: the Iraq war is largely about oil."

Alan Greenspan

Timeless Moments

I've never understood why people feel the need under trying circumstances to promote their particular brand of dogma. Some guy is pulled out of a river half-dead by a well-trained emergency crew operating from a helicopter and then revived by another bunch of trained medical workers--and asked about the "miracle" rescue, replies something like "I owe it all to Jesus"--or to Allah or to the Hidden Hand of the Free Marketplace or whatever his particular belief-system may be. If he forgets--well, on at least one occasion I actually saw a news interviewer remind the interviewee with words like "and of course God" when that person didn't mention a deity.

I personally find this at best tiresome, and at worst absolutely obnoxious. If people want to use their fifteen minutes of fame to put in a plug for something, what about some other kind of product? "Only the thought of once again enjoying sharp Tillamook cheese on Ritz crackers gave me the strength to go on." "I'm just glad I was wearing my Burlington Coat Factory jacket--that made all the difference." "I want to thank the good people at Hershey for making that wonderful candy bar that kept me going through the long cold night." It's no less ridiculous. And when it comes to thanking the deity for aid in a sports victory or an award, we're really scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Which is why I got a kick out of reading about Kathy Griffin's reported acceptance speech on receiving an Emmy: "A lot of people get up here and thank Jesus for helping them win this award, but I have to say nobody has been less helpful in getting me to this moment than Jesus. I don't know what I ever did to him, I just think he doesn't like me that much, and if he had his way, Caesar Milan would be holding this statue right now, but he's not and I am! So I guess all I can really say is, 'Suck it, Jesus! This statue is my God now!'" (Kathy Griffin: loving her Emmy, hating the VMAs | My Life on the D-List | The Q&A | TV | Entertainment Weekly)

This well-deserved rebuke to those who tastelessly parade their religious notions at inappropriate moments was right to the point. It's high time somebody poked fun at this senseless (and annoying) custom. Of course not everybody sees it that way. William Donohue of the KKKatholic League, for example, rather predictably blew his top in feigned outrage over this "hate speech." As Aaron Kinney (Kill The Afterlife) aptly observed, "Donohue thinks that is hate speech? Oh man, he wouldn't know hate speech if it spoke to him!"

In response (apparently) to Donohue's intimidation E! has promised to censor Kathy Griffin's remarks from the broadcast version. As Dave (No God Blog) notes:

But now, the Emmys are bigoted. Say what you want about God and Jesus, as long as it's positive and thankful. If it's positive and thankful, it doesn't matter who gets offended or left out.

BUT... disavow Jesus, and you might as well be swearing, and you'll get bleeped.

Folks, this is discrimination, pure and simple. Theistic talk is welcome, Atheistic talk is not. Truly an uneven playing field, from the good folks who gave us the most boring television in the world.

But wait a moment! This is not discrimination. You see, Kathy Griffin is simply flat-out wrong, according to a concert pianist and former Miss Minnesota who covers religion for Fox News. "Jesus had everything to do with her winning that award. And here's the reasoning," writes Lauren Green. You're going to have to follow along closely to get this, so hang on tight.

Jesus died on a cross 2,000 years ago. His dying words were, "Forgive them Father for they know not what they do." He died and they buried him in a rock cut tomb. Three days later, as the Bible says, he rose from the dead. That day is what Christians celebrate as Easter.

After the resurrection, Christianity began to take off like wildfire, spreading from the Middle East northward to Europe and westward into Ethiopia. In 300 A.D. Emperor Constantine accepted Christianity and it beccame [sic] the religion of Europe. Rome soon became the seat of the faith. After several years of human failings, the church went through conflicts and quite a few unbiblical years — the crusades and the inquisition to name just two. Out of that came the Reformation — the reforming of the Church, sort of a back-to-basics Bible and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Out of the Reformation emerged a vision of law by Samuel Rutherford, called Lex is Rex, Law is King. From that, others devised a secular version that is used to help lay the foundation of government for a new land called America. Ninety-four percent of America's founding era documents mention the Bible; 34 percent quote the Bible directly. The idea of bringing unity to the universal is a particularly Biblical concept.

The freedoms we enjoy in this country to speak freely and to live freely are directly related to that man who died on a cross 2,000 years ago.

So, you see, Kathy Griffin, Jesus has everything to do with you winning that award.

Words fail me. This is unbelievably silly. Meaningless verbiage like "The idea of bringing unity to the universal is a particularly Biblical concept" aside, her point seems to be that our first amendment freedoms are somehow derived from the Bible, which in turn goes back to the Roman church, which in turn goes back to Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified two thousand years ago. Of course nothing could be further from the truth. Nothing Jesus said, or is alleged to have said for that matter, has any bearing on the concept of freedom of expression. Nor did that freedom have anything to do (as far as I can tell) with Kathy Griffin's winning of that award--unless the idea is that thanks to our laws discouraging censorship, nobody stopped her from using her talent for comedy as she saw fit. The statement that "Ninety-four percent of America's founding era documents mention the Bible; 34 percent quote the Bible directly" is a lie. (The correct information is that 34% quote from, allude to, or mention the Bible, and that three fourths of these references come from printed sermons, which one would expect to at least make some reference to the Bible. The 94% figure is simply made up of cobwebs and moonshine, as far as I can tell. It doesn't come from any peer-reviewed survey, anyway, and contradicts the 34% figure, which does.) And her simplistic account of the Reformation is beneath contempt.

All right, so maybe I've wandered from the point a bit, but fake history tends to irritate me.

So where does this leave us? William Donohue, it seems, would enforce "the right of Catholics--lay and clergy alike--to participate in American public life without defamation or discrimination" no matter how tasteless or offensive their remarks, while denying that same right to atheists. And presumably to anybody else whose observations run counter to his notions. A rational nation would ignore him and his bizarre little pressure group. Kowtowing to these extremists only encourages them.

Greg Laden, who apparently finds tasteless flaunting of random deities at inappropriate moments as irritating as I do, has a couple of practical suggestions here and here. For my part I don't expect to see Kathy Griffin apologize any time soon--she's got nothing to apologize for anyway. As for William Donohue, who ought to get down on his knees and beg her abjectly for forgiveness--well, I don't expect to see that either. At least not until pigs fly over the frozen pit of hell.

Quotation of the Day

"No quarter whatever should be given to the bigotry of people so unfit for social life as to insist not only that their own prejudices and superstitions should have the fullest toleration but that everybody else should be compelled to think and act as they do."

Bernard Shaw

Dubious Documents: The Case of Foersch's Letter from Java

In days gone by there used to be a game show in which the object was to beat the host, apparently some kind of idiot-savant, in knowledge of trivia. The host often seemed sharp enough when the subject was general history, state birds, and other such miscellanea, but if the subject was science, in any form, he was clearly out of his depth. One time the question came up, in effect, to name the naturalist who was Charles Darwin's grandfather. (There was more to it, actually, but I don't recall the details.) I thought it was simple. Even if you didn't remember the exact relationship, there is only one other famous Darwin in the sciences, and that of course is Erasmus Darwin, author of The Loves of the Plants and other poems. The contestants all blew it, including the idiot-savant after whom the show was named, and he sneered that he at any rate had never heard of the guy.

Well, I'd heard of him. Many times, actually. He was one of a number of people who could plainly see the fact of evolution in the fossil record, without being able to discern the mechanism behind it. He was a big fan of Linnaeus, and popularized his work by writing poetry about it. (This may seem unlikely, but poetry was big in the eighteenth century. For an even more improbable example, check out Dr. Thomas Mouffet's book, The silk-worm and his fly, written if I am not mistaken [and I probably am] in the previous century.) His poetry was significant enough to be parodied in the Anti-Jacobin in a work called The Loves of the Triangles. (Of course the reason for his being pilloried there will have been his political views--he was a buddy of Benjamin Franklin and a supporter of the democratic revolutions in the United States and France.)

One memorable passage from The Loves of the Plants reads:

Where seas of glass with gay reflections smile
Round the green coasts of Java’s palmy isle;
A spacious plain extends its upland scene,
Rocks rife on rocks, and fountains gum between;
Soft zephyrs blow, eternal summers reign,
And showers prolific bless the soil,—in vain!—
No spicy nutmeg scents the vernal gales,
Nor towering plaintain shades the mid-day vales;
No grassy mantle hides the sable hills,
No flowery chaplet crowns the trickling rills;
Nor tufted moss, nor leathery lichen creeps
In russet tapestry o’er the crumbling steeps.
—No step retreating, on the sand impress’d,
Invites the visit of a second guest;
No refluent fin the unpeopled stream divides,
No revolant pinion cleaves the airy tides;
Nor handed moles, nor beaked worms return,
That mining pass the irremeable bourn.—
Fierce in dread silence on the blasted heath
Fell Upas sits, the Hydra-Tree of death.
Lo; from one root, the envenom’d soil below,
A thousand vegetative serpents grow;
In shining rays the scaly monster spreads
O’er ten square leagues his far-diverging heads;
Or in one trunk entwists his tangled form,
Looks o’er the clouds, and hisses in the storm.
Steep’d in fell poison, as his sharp teeth part,
A thousand tongues in quick vibration dart;
Snatch the proud Eagle towering o’er the heath,
Or pounce the Lion, as he stalks beneath;
Or strew, as marshall’d hosts contend in vain,
With human skeletons the whiten’d plain.
Chain’d at his root two scion-demons dwell,
Breathe the faint hiss, or try the shriller yell;
Rise, fluttering in the air on callow wings,
And aim at insect-prey their little stings.
So Time’s strong arms with sweeping scythe erase
Art’s cumberous works, and empires, from their base:
While each young Hour its sickle fine employs,
And crops the sweet buds of domestic joys!

And, to support the story of fell Upas, the Hydra-Tree of death, the good doctor quoted from an article written by one N. P. Foersch, in the London Magazine for 1783 or 1784. (It was December 1783 in point of fact.) Foersch claimed to be a surgeon who in 1774 worked for the Dutch East-India company. While stationed at Java he had looked into the source of the poison that the locals used to tip their darts with. This virulent poison was derived from a tree called the Bohun-Upas. He wrote:

In the year 1774, I was stationed at Batavia, as a surgeon in the service of the Dutch East-India Company. During my residence there I received several different accounts of the Bohun-Upas, and the violent effects of its poison. They all then seemed incredible to me, but raised my curiosity in so high a degree, that I resolved to investigate this subject thoroughly, and to trust only to my own observations.

After taking care of necessary paperwork and getting a letter of introduction from one Malayan priest to another who lived near the tree itself, Foersch set out to examine it.

It is surrounded on all sides by a circle of high hills and mountains, and the country round it, to the distance of ten or twelve miles from the tree, is intirely [sic] barren. Not a tree, not a shrub, nor even the least plant or grass is to be seen. I have made the tour all around this dangerous spot, at about eighteen miles distant from the center, and I found the aspect of the country on all sides equally dreary. The easiest ascent of the hills, is from that part where the old ecclesiastic dwells.

The gum of this tree is enormously valuable, as it is a deadly poison, but the danger involved in procuring it is so great that only criminals condemned to death are employed in the process.

After sentence is pronounced upon them by the judge, they are asked in court, whether they will die by the hands of the executioner, or whether they will go to the Upas tree for a box of poison? They commonly prefer the latter proposal, as there is not only some chance of preserving their lives, but also a certainty, in case of their safe return, that a provision will be made for them in future, by the Emperor. They are also permitted to ask a favour from the Emperor, which is generally of a trifling nature, and commonly granted. They are then provided with a silver or tortoiseshell box, in which they are to put the poisonous gum, and are properly instructed how to proceed while they are upon their dangerous expedition. Among other particulars, they are always told to attend to the direction of the winds; as they are to go towards the tree before the wind, so that the effluvia from the tree are always blown from them. They are told, likewise, to travel with the utmost dispatch, as that is the only method of insuring a safe return. …

When the hour of their departure arrives, the priest puts them on a long leather cap with two glasses before their eyes, which comes down as far as their breast, and also provides them with a pair of leather gloves. They are then conducted by the priest … about two miles on their journey. Here the priest repeats his instructions, and tells them where they are to look for the tree.

Foersch informs us that the priest told him he had sent more than seven hundred criminals off in this manner, and only about one tenth of them made it back safely with the poison. Documents he saw supported this claim. Although he had made efforts to get some hard data on the tree, the difficulties involved rendered this impossible.

This, however, is certain, though it may appear incredible, that from fifteen to eighteen miles round this tree, not only no human creature can exist; but that, in that space of ground, no living animal of any kind has ever been discovered. I have also been assured by several persons of veracity, that there are no fish in the waters, nor has any rat, mouse, or any other vermin been seen there; and when any birds fly so near this tree, that the effluvia reaches them they fall a sacrifice to the effects of the poison. This circumstance has been ascertained by different delinquents, who, in their return, have seen the birds drop down and have picked them up dead, and brought them to the old ecclesiastic.

There are several obvious problems with this account. The first, and greatest, difficulty is that there is no such tree. There is a tree called upas, and it is the source of a poison, but past that the account is clearly, well, wrong. The zone of death that surrounds it, the birds falling from the sky, the convicts sent out to fetch the poison--these are things that never were. The parts about the zone of death, the birds falling in mid-flight might have been suggested by phenomena that occur with carbon-dioxide-filled valleys resulting from volcanic activity, maybe. So the obvious question is, where did Foersch get these notions? Was he fooled by mendacious locals who stuffed him with wild tales? Or was he the hoaxer himself?

Sometimes the obvious question is the wrong one, and this is one of those cases. The relevant question is: was there ever an N. P. Foersch? And if not, what exactly are we looking at? The piece in The London Magazine may seem to be a straightforward article, but there are clues that it is something else altogether. Consider the magazine's introduction:

The following description of the Bohon Upas, or Poison-Tree, which grows in the island of Java, and renders it unwholesome by its noxious vapours, has been procured for the London Magazine, from Mr. Heydinger, who was employed to translate it from the original Dutch, by the author, Mr. Foersch, who, we are informed, is at present abroad, in the capacity of surgeon on board an English vessel.

This account, we must allow, appears so marvellous, that even the Credulous might be staggered. The readers of this narrative will probably think of the celebrated Psalmanazar, and his equally famous History of the Island of Formosa. But this narrative certainly merits attention and belief.

Now Psalmanazar was a celebrated fraud, a fake Formosan whose bogus account of the island fooled many in England in the eighteenth century. The reference to this as an account so marvelous that even the credulous might be staggered appears also to be a hint. My strong impression is that the editor means us to understand that this is a hoax, and nothing more. The fact that N. P. Foersch is otherwise unknown may also be a clue.

To put it as simply as possible, this letter is not a translation from the Dutch; N. P. Foersch never made any investigation of the upas tree, and indeed there is no reason to think that Foersch ever existed outside the imagination of the author. Far from being an account of a bizarre tree on an exotic island, this piece is a work of fiction, apparently inspired by various traveler's tales from the orient.

So who was the author? Whose fantasy was it that so captivated Erasmus Darwin's imagination?

There doesn't seem to be any hard evidence, but one name springs to mind for a hoax of this sort--George Steevens. Steevens was a great Shakespearean scholar, but he was also fond of hoaxes and practical jokes. One of his most celebrated hoaxes was his creation of the tombstone of Hardecanute, about which a paper was presented to the Society of Antiquaries in 1789. Another well-known deception was his discovery of a letter written by the Elizabethan playwright George Peele telling of his meeting with William Shakespeare and Henry (not Christopher) Marlowe. Of course any hoax of the time was likely to be attributed to him; some even suspected his involvement in the William Henry Ireland Shakespearean forgeries, and in Chatterton's Rowley poems. Isaac D'israeli wrote in Curiosities of Literature (1824):

If we possessed the secret history of the literary life of George Steevens, it would display an unparalleled series of arch deception, and malicious ingenuity. He has been happily characterized by Mr Gifford, as “the Puck of Commentators!” Steevens is a creature so spotted over with literary forgeries and adulterations, that any remarkable one about the time he flourished may be attributed to him.

He seems quite confident that Steevens was the author of the Foersch account:

The marvellous narrative of the upas-tree of Java, which Darwin adopted in his plan of “enlisting imagination under the banner of science,” appears to have been another forgery which amused our “Puck.” It was first given in the London Magazine, as an extract from a Dutch traveller, but the extract was never discovered in the original author, and “the effluvia of this noxious tree, which through a district of twelve or fourteen miles had killed all vegetation, and had spread the skeletons of men and animals, affording a scene of melancholy beyond what poets have described, or painter deimeated,” is perfectly chimerical. A splendid flim-flam!

Sidney Lee in the Dictionary of National Biography seems equally convinced. Conviction, however, is not evidence. Steevens was entirely capable of perpetrating such a fraud; that isn't quite the same thing as demonstrating that he actually did it. I'm inclined to think he did; the thing has the qualities of his dark and shadowed personality all over it. D'Israeli observes of his pranks:

They were the habits of a depraved mind, and there was a darkness in his character many shades deeper than belonged to Puck; even in the playfulness of his invention, there was usually a turn of personal malignity, and the real object was not so much to raise a laugh, as to “grin horribly a ghastly smile,” on the individual.

This piece, especially if his contemporary Erasmus Darwin was his intended victim, fits well with his psychology. It may well have been his most successful practical joke. Poems, operas, political metaphors, all drew from this malicious fantasy, long after the perpetrator had passed on. A splendid flim-flam indeed.

Quotation of the Day

"An atheist is just a fundamentalist who believes in one less god than the other." From Dave Away From Home.

Dennis James Kennedy (1930-2007) R.I.H.

Vibrations in the ether bring me glad tydings: Dennis James Kennedy no longer breathes and walks this earth among us. He has, as they say, gone on to his reward.

Charles Erskine Scott Wood, in Heavenly Discourse, revealed how such figures as Anthony Comstock and Teddy Roosevelt were received in heaven. When Billy Sunday, the first radiovangelist, showed up, St. Peter had to bleach him in a sulfurous pit to remove the stench.

In 1953, during the height of the McCarthy era, dance instructor Dennis J. Kennedy was inspired to wonder about his own potential reception in heaven by the question of a Philadelphia preacher: "Suppose that you were to die today and stand before God and he were to ask you, 'What right do you have to enter into my heaven?'—what would you say?" This improbable scenario apparently was the catalyst for the transformation of D J Kennedy, dance instructor, into D. James Kennedy, gay-basher, history-faker, and anti-science zealot.

The evil this man did lives on. The good, if any, appears to have died long ago. I spent some time scanning the obituaries for positive things to say about this Christ-monger, and all I could find were:

He was kind to a Baptist teenager... (Albert Mohler, Jr.)

and

Dr. Kennedy lived modestly and was never tainted by moral or financial scandal. (Washington Post)

On the other hand the work he did in promoting false stereotypes of gays and lesbians, in supporting putting AIDS victims in concentration camps, in opposing scientific research towards cures for certain diseases on lame theological grounds, in rewriting American history to support the Christian America lie, in rewriting biology, geology, and physics to support the crazy notions known as "Young Earth Creationism"--well, if Satan is truly the father of lies, then we know whose side "Dr." Dennis James Kennedy was on. And indeed, from The Daily Pulp, we learn:

According to sources close to the prince of darkness, the late Rev. D. James Kennedy, of Coral Ridge Power Hour fame, has been assigned a key position in hell.

"He's going to make a great addition and we've already made room for him," one of Satan's lieutenants reported to the Pulp. "The hard part was figuring out where to put the little devil. We considered the eighth circle with the frauds. I mean, c'mon, Kennedy was a "man of God"? Would Jesus sponsor a hate festival? As we say down in these parts, hell no. Then there's the fourth circle, for the materialists. Have you seen that gaudy palace he built on Federal Highway? Plus, he loved the rich and never gave two snots about the poor. But we decided he'd make a better addition to the fifth circle, where he'll fight with other wrathful hatemongers on the river Styx."

I suppose the excuse that might be made for him was that he was doing what was right in his own mind. It's a pretty poor excuse, if you ask me.

Can You Say "Frivolous Lawsuit"?

Many years ago certain people who have adopted an anti-science agenda under the pretext of religion set out to teach their children garbage instead of science. (They also substituted fairy-tales about the past for the study of history, which was of more immediate interest to me, but let's stick for the moment to the science.) At the time I commented that this was all very well and good, but what on earth were they going to do when their kids grew up and wanted to attend college? Colleges would expect them to actually know science and history, rather than garbage and fairy-tales. All I could think of at the time was that they would have to go to places like Liberty or Bob Jones, where their notions might pass.

Turns out that there is a second possibility. The parents who had so badly mis-educated their children might sue colleges to try to get special privileges for their offspring. Other people's kids might have to actually master Biology or learn American History, but not their precious little angels. They should get a free pass, because their religion forbids them to come to grips with reality. Instead of hard biology, what about substituting Fun and Frolic among the Flood Fossils? Instead of learning the facts of American History, what about singing "God Bless America" and have done with it? And instead of ancient history, what about a little group discussion on What the Bible means to me? This is horseshit.

Yes, in the most frivolous of frivolous lawsuits, various parents who insulated their children from too-harsh realities of science and history are actually suing the University of California to try to force it to recognize Bob Jones foolishness as the equivalent of a real course. Their excuses are idiotic. You can't judge a course by the quality of the textbook chosen, for example. Substituting horseshit for information constitutes only adding religious content to a standard course. (By the way, in my book at least, a "history" course that adds a clutch of outrageous lies a la David Barton [for example] to otherwise true information ceases at that point to be a history course, unless of course the instructor is teaching his students how to evaluate fake history or something of the sort.) The courses in question are clearly not teaching science but religion. They should therefore not qualify as science courses, no matter how their parents choose to spin it. Teaching anti-science is not teaching science. Parents may have a constitutional right to bamboozle their children, but that doesn't give their children any rights to special privileges as opposed to other people's children who actually worked for their place in college. In my view not only should this case be settled in favor of the University of California, but these ignorant and arrogant parents should have to pick up their court costs. To quote from The Questionable Authority : "Viewpoint Discrimination" and the California Creationism Case.: "If they want their students to be credited as having taken biology, they need to teach biology. If they want to continue to exercise their right to deceive and mislead their children, they need to be willing to accept the consequences of that act." Damn right.

Dubious Documents: The Case of the Vanishing Letter

Baylor University is a Baptist institution located in Waco Texas. From Wikipedia I learn that the university is working on an ambitious program to, among other things, "Establish an environment where learning can flourish," "Develop a world-class faculty," "Attract and support a top-tier student body," "Provide outstanding academic facilities," and "Achieve a two-billion dollar endowment." Under these circumstances it is easy to understand why they would prefer not to have tools and cranks hanging around their campus. Therefore Baylor University's decision to distance itself from an "Evolutionary Informatics Laboratory" run by notorious IDian William Dembski in association with Robert Marks, a professor of engineering should not be a surprise to anybody. If it really did make such a decision.

Somebody at Uncommon Descent claims to have received a communication from John Lilley, president of Baylor University. The text given there reads:

The removal of Prof. Robert Marks' so-called "lab" on the Baylor server is entirely consistent with Baylor's stance on academic freedom. Prof. Marks was hired to do research and obtain grants for work in engineering, not to devote the bulk of his time to work in religion. I am not moved by Prof. Marks' protestations that he is working in the field of intelligent design and that this work falls under his job description. Judge John E. Jones III ruled decisively in Kitzmiller v. Dover that intelligent design is religion, and that's good enough for me. We have a religious studies program here at Baylor as well as a seminary. Unfortunately, Prof. Marks is not qualified to serve in either of these programs otherwise I would recommend his transfer.

In any case, academic freedom does not warrant the toleration of labs and groups willy-nilly. Surely you would not object if I took measures similar to those I took with Prof. Marks' lab if a Baylor history professor proposed to start a "holocaust reexamination group" or a physics professor here proposed to found a "zodiac and astrology lab." Academic freedom comes to an end where reason and common sense give way to ignorance and nonsense. I plan to issue an official statement concerning Baylor's stance on intelligent design in coming months. The short of it is that ID is not welcome here in Waco and professors who want to work in this area can do so on their own time.

Thank you for your concerns. I hope that we can put this matter to rest quickly and that Prof. Marks can get back to being a productive member of the Baylor community.

The communication is signed "JL."

The thing that struck me immediately about it was the tone. I'm sorry, but this thing just didn't read to me like the work of a university president. It's not that all university presidents write alike--but they usually withdraw quietly under a cloud of unctuousness, rather than to strike a combative note, at least in issues like this. Phrases like "so-called 'lab,'" "that's good enough for me," "willy-nilly," and "ID is not welcome here" don't ring true to me. Of course JL could be a different breed of university president. I decided to check him out.

Here is a sample of John Lilley's prose, taken from the Baylor University website:

The Board of Regents bestowed a great honor, a challenge and an opportunity in its invitation for me to serve as Baylor's 13th president. After more than 25 years of leading universities in Pennsylvania and Nevada, it is a great privilege to return to the institution that had such a transforming effect on my life.

I look forward to serving alongside the more than 1,800 faculty and staff who have invested themselves in this great university. It is apparent to me that everyone associated with Baylor wants it to be in the ranks of America's top universities.

To accomplish that, we need to be intentional about our mission as a Christian university in the historic Baptist tradition, and we need to provide inspiring teaching/mentorship while increasing our research and creative endeavors. These are goals that have been consistently embraced by the Board of Regents, the Faculty Senate, the Staff Council, Student Government and many other Baylor constituents.

In the weeks since my election as president, I have spent many hours meeting with regents, administrative leaders, faculty, staff, students and alumni leaders. The primary purpose of these meetings has been to listen. One of the things I have heard is that the natural disagreements in our academic life need to be spoken in a more respectful manner, one that is consistent with the Christian community of which we are a part.

Over the next few weeks, I will be asking the university community to help in identifying the specific objectives that will allow us to achieve the two goals mentioned above. This process will allow all of us to help set priorities for strengthening current programs and for creating new programs and for the allocation and reallocation of resources and space. That collaboration can build consensus if we are successful in communicating more effectively.

I am eager to engage more of you in the days ahead as we work together to make stronger this university which all of us serve and so dearly love.

Now that's what a university president writes like. I particularly invite your attention to the part where he comments on the need to deal with "natural disagreements in our academic life ... in a more respectful manner, one that is consistent with the Christian community of which we are a part." Come on--does that really sound at all like the guy that wrote the letter Uncommon Descent claimed to have received?

I'd got this far in looking things over when I had to deal with the real world. It's my sister-in-law's birthday, and cake and ice-cream were in order up the street at my brother's house. Before I left I checked Uncommon Descent again, finding now that they were now claiming that this letter was a parody. When I got back home, bloated on pound cake and appetizers, the letter had vanished completely. Fortunately PZ Myers had noted the letter, and his post sent me to this link at Panda's Thumb, where a screen-shot preserves the letter in all its glory. Otherwise I might have started wondering if I had imagined the whole thing.

Now, I know something about parody, at least enough to recognize a parody when I see it. Whatever this letter was supposed to be, it was not a parody. Compare the styles of the two documents quoted above. Is there any similarity? If the author of the first thought he was anywhere close to parodying the author of the second item, he was kidding himself.

Whatever the intentions of the author, what the first is is a common, or garden, fake. There is no element of humor, satire, or exaggeration in it. The only purpose I can see is to stir IDians up against John Lilley in particular, and Baylor University in general. If it was intended as a joke of some kind, apologies are in order. If not--well, then, words fail me.