We do not think it is quite . . . right . . . to speak of Mr. Shevadnadze (ედუარდ შევარდნაძე is his name!) in this way. To us he seemed always a most agreeable and cultivated man, who stood and still stands head and shoulders above his detractors. In that respect he resembles little General P. of Pakistan, another man of great culture who has been badly maligned by those who do not and cannot understand.

As for the vile accusation with which our quoted excerpt continues: we will not repeat it here, as it is almost libellous is it not? and we doubt it should be permitted to stand.


Is it not almost the same case in Apghanistan? And - perhaps more to the point - is it not now almost the same case in many European countries? Entire populations live out their lives under that fell yoke and remain almost entirely ignorant of the fact.

If any accusation is made, then it's made by Mr Shevardnadze against himself - as I have quoted him verbatim.  I am no expert in ballistics, although my Georgian friends (like all ex-USSR citizens, obliged to serve two years in the military under National Service) tell me that a submachine-gun is a most unwieldy weapon to use upon one's own self.

I don't dispute, btw, that Shevardnadze was/is a cultured man.  You don't rise to senior rank in the diplomatic service anywhere without polish and social graces.  Georgians especially prize the skill of public speaking (it remains one of the few countries in which "toastmaster" is an established full-time profession) and Shevardnadze rose from such roots.  The Premiere whom he so abruptly replaced, however, had rather greater credentials in that area, being an Academician of the USSR, playwright, author, polyglot and dictionary compiler. The most authoratative Georgian-Russian dictionary in print remains Gamsakhurdia's.



I am no expert on this matter, but it certainly seems Mr Grew has good reason to make these claims. The widely-read books of Peter Hopkirk ("The Great Game", "Setting The East Ablaze", "Foreign Devils On The Silk Road" etc) document the history of British involvement in Central Asia with depressing accuracy.  The gloomy fates of Sir Alexander "Bokhara" Burnes, McNaughten and others, and the history of reaching accommodation with local warlords (such as Dost Mohamed) who were then purposely removed and replaced with others prior to returning to power makes a woeful cycle of which present actions are merely a repetition.  The only news under the sun is that America is now the Imperial power misdirecting the campaigning (hence the relevance to this discussion), with Britain relegated to the duties of an obedient batman.  Viewed in the light of foreign meddling in the area since the post-Napoleonic era, the impression of a continuum of more-or-less disastrous involvement is hard to ignore.  I wonder if British or American troops in Afghanistan continue the tradition of visiting Burnes's tomb in Kabul, where many of his body-parts were interred after they had been purchased back from the various mobs who tore him apart?  Younghusband (who later led the vainglorious British invasion of Tibet in 1905) certainly did so during his brief period of service there, although he appears to have learned little from the visit.

KABUL town’s by Kabul river—
  Blow the bugle, draw the sword—
There I lef’ my mate for ever,
  Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford.
         Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,
           Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!
         There’s the river up and brimmin’, an’ there’s ’arf a squadron swimmin’
           ’Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town’s a blasted place—
  Blow the bugle, draw the sword—
’Strewth I sha’n’t forget ’is face
  Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford!
         Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,
           Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!
         Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an’ they will surely guide you
           ’Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town is sun and dust—
  Blow the bugle, draw the sword—
I’d ha’ sooner drownded fust
  ’Stead of ’im beside the ford.
         Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,
           Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!
         You can ’ear the ’orses threshin’, you can ’ear the men a-splashin’,
           ’Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town was ours to take—
  Blow the bugle, draw the sword—
I’d ha’ left it for ’is sake—
  ’Im that left me by the ford.
         Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,
           Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!
         It’s none so bloomin’ dry there; ain’t you never comin’ nigh there,
           ’Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark?

Kabul town’ll go to hell—
  Blow the bugle, draw the sword—
’Fore I see him ’live an’ well—
  ’Im the best beside the ford.
     Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,
       Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!
     Gawd ’elp ’em if they blunder, for their boots’ll pull ’em under,
       By the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.

Turn your ’orse from Kabul town—
  Blow the bugle, draw the sword—
’Im an’ ’arf my troop is down,
  Down an’ drownded by the ford.
     Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,
       Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!
     There’s the river low an’ fallin’, but it ain’t no use o’ callin’
       ’Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.

(Kipling)

But OH, the taste of that lemonade!  Wonder how it's made?

Occasionally Hitchens gets it right: though I disagree w/ him about a number of issues, he makes a good point here. I don't know if American racial politics and race history are of interest to anyone here, but the disinterested can just pass over this link like an oil slick swims on the San Francisco Bay.

Christopher Hitchens.  "Will lie for whisky".

William Pitt?  Ted Heath?

If Syd's definition means they indulged in acts of intimacy with other men, then we don't know.  If it means (which I take it to mean) they fancied other men in the way most men fancy women, then only they can say if they did, and we can't know.

Well, Bill Richardson is quitting the race. That's just what we needed. A quitter!

The media is so stupid, the people are all dumbasses, I mean, how can they overlook Bill Richardson?

****. Shit. Damn. Mother****er. Lhasa Apso.

'Zif the day wasn't already going badly enough.