BuzzMachine... by Jeff Jarvis

October 26, 2002

Terrorist World War
: Der Spiegel's cover story this week declares a "Terrorist World War".

: More on Andrew Sullivan's point below: If all Muslim-inspired terrorism could be traced to bin Laden, then the challenge would be easier: just kill that weed at the roots. But that's not the case. Witness the sniper. Witness last week's latest explosion in Israel. And, of course, witness other terrorist groups responsible for Bali. Witness the horrible crime in Moscow last night. The garden is filled with weeds.

: A column by Peter Beaumont in the Observer says that we are suffering a new kind of terrorism:

If a single theme does link Chechnya to Afghanistan to Indonesia, it is not a sinister, single world conspiracy but rather the intoxicating allure in some sections of the Islamic world of the power of terrorism itself....
Terrorism is, above all, a means of communication. It delivers a message not only to the victim, but also to those sympathetic to the attacker. In the 13 months since 11 September, that message has been taken up by those who were literally thrilled by bin Laden's gruesome coup de thétre, as he intended.

: See, too, Glenn Reynolds on efforts to de-islamicize other acts of terrorism.

For the authorities, there are two obvious motivations for this. First, if it's "not terrorism," then the fact that it happened isn't a failure of "anti-terrorism." Second, to the extent that people buy this it makes the anti-American Islamic movement look weaker. For the PC forces of the media, it probably appears necessary to ensure that mobs of peasants with torches and pitchforks won't set out for the nearest mosque. (Though in fact such distortions make such violence more, not less, likely in my opinion, by breeding distrust of the authorities.)

: Nick Denton adds:

Sure, the motives are mixed. Arab nationalism, dislike of the American-backed Saudi regime, Javanese fear of losing control of the Indonesian archipelago, personal failure, misdirected resentment, national liberation. But they are all coming together under the banner of Islam. Inevitably, Western governments and Western people will begin to treat Muslims as potentially hostile. Which is, in part, a self-fulfilling prophecy.

: The Observer reports that gas killed many of the dead hostages in Moscow.

: An animated Observer graphic shows what happened in Moscow.

: For what it's worth, Debka says bin Laden is back in Saudi Arabia.

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Life as an open book
: Privacy is one of those unquestioned holy words of the age: Privacy is a virtue; incursions on privacy are evil. I've long thought privacy was overrated; it's often just a synonym for paranoia.
Blasphemous as it may be, I've never had a problem with Microsoft cookie-ing me knowing what programs I use; I like Amazon remembering what I buy. But those are trivial (if often emotional) considerations. 9.11 changed that. Now privacy is a real issue when it stands in the way of real security. Are we giving up some privacy and, yes, some civil rights post 9.11? I am, gladly.
Now Macleans, the Canadian newsmagazine, gives us a provocative essay by science fiction writer Robert Sawyer arguing not only that privacy is overrated. but that we need less privacy. [via Shift]

Whenever I visit a tourist attraction that has a guest register, I always sign it. After all, you never know when you'll need an alibi.
I've been doing this since I was a kid, but these days you don't have to take any positive action to leave a trail behind. Almost everything we do is recorded. Closed-circuit cameras watch us in most public places. Our credit-card purchases, telephone calls and Web surfing are all tracked.
Editorialists have decried these losses of privacy, as if it were the most sacred of human rights. But just what is the value of privacy? Do we really need it? And, indeed, can we afford it? After all, everything from your son's shoplifting to the destruction of the towers at the World Trade Center could have been prevented if we had less of an ability to do things in secret.

Sawyer goes on to give us a not-too-science-fictional view of a world in which personal recorders and transmitters could protect us and our property from theft or lawsuit or ailments or death.

The message of history, most spectacularly driven home in the 9/11 terror attacks, is that preserving society as a whole is much more important than preserving an illusory personal freedom.

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Bring back Rosie
: Also from Aftenpostet, a researcher demands that media put more ugly people before the camera.

Lecturer Trond Andresen of the Norwegian Institute of Technology in Trondheim accuses the media of discriminating against the ugly and emphasizing beautiful people whenever possible. Andresen wants higher ugly quotas on television.

Or you can hire the guy in the pig mask.

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Mi casa et soooie sooooie casa
: A Norwegian pig farmer makes his porkers perky by donning a pig mask and talking their language, reports Aftenpostet.

"It was a bit of fun at the beginning, but then I discovered how much calmer the pigs got when I took the time to chat with them for a few minutes in the pen," Braut said.

He still turns them into bacon anyway.
Reminds me of some two-faced office colleagues I have known.

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The...the...the... intellectual stammer
: Listening to a New Yorker writer on NPR this afternoon, I hear a speech pattern I hear often on that network, always from intellectuals, often from writers. They don't say "like, y'know." They don't say "duuude." But they do tend to fill the dead air brought on by thought by repeating a word or syllable with an irritating frequency, as if the repetition emphasizes their thought as mere silence could not. Often, the word is "the" and I've heard it repeated three, four, even as many as a dozen times: "The... the... the... the... problem with this.... this... this... thinking is..." This is not stuttering; I wouldn't make fun of that (unless listening to Howard Stern); this is an affectation and I wonder how it became so universal among the overeducated. They also love to say "sort of," a meaningless phrase anyway that is inserted without any attempt at meaning; it is merely packing peanuts for thoughts. Drives me... me... me.... nuts.

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