Saturday, November 28, 2015

VC, VT, và ST

VC, VT và Sự Thật

Kính thưa đồng bào thân yêu:

Chúng ta nếu muốn hiểu hành động của cá nhân, bè phái, băng đảng cướp hay băng đảng chính trị, thì chỉ nhớ, đại đa số động cơ cho hành động đó là:

1. Tiền( $$$!)
2. Quyền.
3. Danh.
4. Cái Tôi (Ego)
5. Sắc Dục.
6. Tình Thương chân thật (True Love)
7. Sự Thật và Công Lý

Một câu hỏi chúng ta cần đặt ra với chính chúng ta và MT/VT là những lời nhận xét không tốt về MT/VT từ những cựu đảng viên (như bà Trần Khải Thanh Thuý); hoặc từ những ai không từng là đảng viên (như quý ông Đặng Văn Âu, Lão Móc, JB Trường Son); hoặc từ tập đoàn Frontline của PBS trong cuốn phim "Terror in Little Saigon"

1.  Có khả tín hay không?
2. Nếu không có khả tín, và chỉ là những lời vu cáo, mạ lỵ vu vơ không bằng cớ, thì đây là cơ hội cho MT/VT thanh minh, thanh nga trước công luận và bảo vệ uy tin của mình bằng cách đưa họ ra toà. 

Một câu hỏi khác là chúng ta phải nêu ra trước công luận hay suy tư trong im lặng là MT/VT hành động vì Tình Thương Yêu Nước và Đồng Bào hay là vì chạy theo Tiền, Quyền, và Danh. 

Vấn đề không phải là đánh vào "vào VT hay VC" như ông Đặng Bảo đưa ra. Vấn đề là chúng ta muốn đi tìm Sự Thật và Công Lý. Tôi không đồng ý với cách suy diễn hời hợt của ông Đặng Bảo là "Ngồi suy luận, viết luận án tháng này qua tháng khác năm này qua năm khác để nhắm vào "diện" là MT/VT hay những chiến thuật mà VC tung ra .... là đi vào kế "dương đông kích tây" của VC."  Không phải tất cả ai phê phán MT/VT là mắc kế ly gián của VC. Sao ông Đặng Bảo không nghĩ tới những người phê phán MT/VT có thể thúc đẩy bởi Sự Thật và Công Lý? Chuyện chụp mũ ở đây của ông Đặng Bảo rất là đáng tiếc, tự làm giảm giá trị của con người của ông và khiến tha nhân nghi ngờ về khả năng suy tư có hệ thống, đến nơi đến chốn của ông. 

Dân tộc Việt đã bị lừa quá nhiều và từng là nạn nhân Chính Trị và Tôn Giáo. VC đã lừa chúng ta với những khẩu hiệu và chiêu bài yêu nước, nhưng thực tế cho chúng ta thấy là VC chỉ yêu VC, chớ không yêu nước gì cả. Tất cả hành động của VC là từ những động cơ Tiền, Quyền, và Danh. 

Chúng ta không muốn bị lừa nữa. Chúng ta bây giờ đòi hỏi những ai, những đảng phái, những mặt trận, muốn thay đổi VC dể cầm quyền ở VN, phải chứng tỏ họ khá và tốt hơn VC, chớ không có hành xử như VC, và ngụy biện một cách vô đạo đức và khinh thường dân Việt rằng "Cứu cánh biện minh cho phương tiện". Phương tiện lưu manh và độc ác phản ảnh một tâm hồn và đường lối lưu manh và độc ác, không xứng đáng cho chúng ta tin tưởng và ủng hộ.

Tôi không là đảng viên của một đảng phái nào. Tôi chỉ là người trọng Sự Thật, và biết suy nghĩ theo dữ kiện có kiểm chúng và luận lý (logic), và chưa hề vu khống ai, mặc dù tôi từng là nạn nhân của những tên và mụ ngu và dốt hơn tôi, nên cãi lý với tôi trên mạng không lại, bèn dở thói mạ lỵ vu khống trơ trẽn và hèn hạ, Tôi coi những tên và mụ này là loại cầm thú. 

Trân trọng,

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Cầu Nguyện và Nguyền Rủa

Cầu Nguyện là một hình thức Tự Kỷ Ám Thị (Self-Suggestion), một trò chơi tinh thần Con Người tạo ra. Một con người biết Logic, thì biết sự khác nhau giữa Nhân Quả và Trùng Hợp, do đó họ không bao giờ cầu nguyện. Họ chỉ chấp nhận sự việc đã xảy ra rồi đối phó với hoàn cảnh. Họ biết tự trọng, không cầu xin nơi một thực thể giả tạo gọi là "Thượng Đế". 

Nên nhớ rằng những nạn nhân tử vong ở trong trại tập trung Đức Quốc Xã, VC, hoặc thuyền nhân tỵ nạn VN (boat people), bộ họ không cầu nguyện hay sao? 

Con người là một sinh vật rất "lạ", nhiều mâu thuẫn, thích lừa dối, ngay cả chính mình. Chỉ có những người ươn hèn, yếu đuối, hoặc đần độn mới tin vào Cầu Nguyện hay Nguyền Rủa. 

Another "Story"

UnhAnother "Story"

You've told everybody you've met, if they care to listen, that you're an unpublished writer of sorts and a poet. But the truth of the matter is that now and then you just have a need to put words together when things are out of joint. Like today, for instance. 

Dusk was arriving. Sunlight was receding to the west. And then it was dark in the sky, except for the crescent moon and then the stars. You felt empty and lonely and strong and cynical. You thought of her, of evening excursions to the park, after university lectures, where she and you would haltingly explore each other's body. And then bam, what you thought as Love vanished into thin air, without a trace, without a lingering regret on her part. 

Lyrics of Traces by Classics IV, written in 1968, the year she and you started going out came on the radio about half an hour ago. The relationship you had with her lasted only three years, but the impact on you has lasted a lifetime. Love is a strange and yet familiar thing, like Fire. Don't play with Love or Fire. You might get burned and scarred for life. 


Faded photographs, covered now with lines and creases
Tickets torn in half, memories in bits and pieces
Traces of love, long ago that didn't work out right
Traces of love


Ribbons from her hair, souvenirs of days together

The ring she used to wear, pages from an old love letter
Traces of love, long ago that didn't work out right
Traces of love, with me tonight


I close my eyes and say a prayer that in her heart
She'll find a trace of love still there, somewhere, oh

Traces of hope in the night that she'll come back and dry
These traces of tears from my eyes, oh yeah


Unlike the sentiment expressed at the end of the song, you gave up on the hope she would ever come back to you. Still, only recently do you have the control of your emotions when you hear the song on the radio. This song, "Sugar", and "How Do You Mend a Broken Heart" always evoke the time and the place when you first heard them. 

After she disappeared from your life and lingered in your heart, there were so many others that came and went, but no one came close to rekindling the fire and the love you had for her, not even Harriet who really loved you, but was too coarse and crude to bring you peace of mind. 

Now there's another "she", the one who lives in New York and sundry other places. You look at her photograph and savor the memory when she took your hands into hers and spoke obliquely of what might and could have been. She is no raving beauty, but has a kind heart. And you are a chicken-hearted romantic fellow, too scared and too scarred to let her know how you think of her, and of your dark, deep secret of the night. 

Sun is cold, Rain is hard, Sex is overrated, and Love is elusive, but to live is to find somebody to love and to be loved by somebody. To live is also to forget the past, live for the present, and prepare yourself for the future and your eventual demise. To live is to find meaning for our brief but often fraught existence, to struggle with its inherent absurdity, to cope with the lies and venality of our fellow humans who are mostly inferior to us in terms of intelligence and knowledge and have nothing to offer to us by way of enlightenment.

You had a pleasant dream about Alicia the other night. It woke you up, but you didn't bother to record the dream right away. You were very surprised that the dream was very nice and romantic, since nowadays you realize with jstark awareness that she no longer has a hold on you though you understand that she has aged well and gracefully. You suppose you finally recognize that Love is really a dream and a fantasy, and it is really overstated and overblown. Or it could be that you now think that she does not deserve your love and affection because she is just as common as the others. You now use the memories of her and Laura to better yourself. The past is gone, like water over the dam. Life is for the present and the future.

A concerned friend asked you why you are wasting time on imbeciles and assholes. You told her that having a "dialogue" with these scumbags is a way for you to know how some human animals "think" and feel. The "dialogue" has energized you and once more brought to the fore a realization that you are indeed blessed that you are not like those pathetic animals. These animals have no true pride, deep down. Not really. If they did, they would do something about their conditions. A fucked-up and terminally ill lesbian lodged a nauseously sel-righteous and pathetic complaint about your language. She made you laugh about human nature. No wonder we have wars and atrocities. Some, if not most, human animals need to be exterminated like vermin, since they pollute the gene pool. The old adage rings true in her case, "you must shut your fucking mouth if the matter on hand doesn't concern you. In fact, only speak when you're spoken to." The problem with the human race is that most humans don't know how to keep their mouths shut. 

From reading the book review of Primo Levi's Coomple Works of Primo Levi, you leaned about evil and the complexities of human nature, especially the drive for power, the despair, as well as the sheer human will at any costs---to live is meaningful by itself. To search for life's meanings is an intellectual and emotional exercise only when one is safe and free from harm, only when one has to confront daily ennui. But when one's physical existence is in danger, the instinct for physical survival must kick in, and everyday is the repetition of the mantra, "Survive, survive, survive at any price". Your body will not give up if your mind does not give up. Now you understand why many former internees of the VC's concentration camps are still hating the VC with a ferocity, despite the passage of time. Still, a life lesson is being etched in your mind here: to survive in this increasingly absurd and unjust world, you must cultivate an attitude that calls for stoic and cynical acceptance of two things: Bad Luck and Man is largely an evil creature who responds by instinct to vengeance, greed, power, and sadism. Of course, there are humans who are kind, fair-minded, and not venal. Those are true humans, but they constitute no more than 10% of the human race. The other 90% are human animals who make life a problem, not a yoyful existence, for themselves and othes, including non-human species. So, who are you? part of the 10% or the 90%? The choice is up to you. To be human is to be blessed with choices. To survive jmeans not to be burned up with Hate and a preoccupation with Justice and Revenge. 

So, after gallantly and ferociously asserting his will to live through degradations and depredations of life in Auschlitz, Levi took his own life at the age of 67 in 1987, 43 years after his arrest and deportation to Auschlitz. Levi evinced his zest for life in prose, but in poetry he bared his darker feelings: isolation, bitterness, and even hatred of life. In "Song of Those Who Died in Vain.", there is a line that reads, "We're invulnerable because we've died."  As the book reviewer remarked, "Reading the poems , one wonders not that Levi killed himself, but that he took so long to do it."

So Auschlitz did kill Levi, only it took 43 years. One can tell if a person is really emotionally and mentally tough. Usually such a person does not talk much, not because he internalizes most of his thoughts, but because when he talks, he merely tries to convince himself and others. Strong, tough-minded men think much and talk little. He is sure of his thoughts and emotions. There is no need to articulate them for himself and an audience in order to seek feedback. Strong, tough-minded men don't usually write poems of despair.

You are 66 years old now. You twice flirted with suicide, but you didn't consummate the act. You looked into the abyss, and the abyss looked backed, smiled, and sweety said, "Come on down. Jump. Your pains will be over in a few seconds." You looked at the abyss and you heard her voice loud and clear. And then you walked away, slowly, to your car and drove home, with the etched image in your mind of your Mom proudly looking at you as you bid her goodbye to catch a bus to the airport for graduate studies overseas. You had won a scholarship two months prior. You didn't take your own life because of your love for your mother was bigger than your own pains. 

You no longer think of suicide. You have stopped writing poetry with regularity. There is no longer a need to confront and transcend pains.

Instead of suicide, you have flirted with homicide. You know it is easy to kill. Only dealing with the consequences is not easy. Also, killing is an irrational act, except in self-defense. It just does not solve problems. It adds to the problems. Still, you know why humans kill. Humans are prone to acts of irrationality. Are you irrational enough? No, you are not. Is today is the day the scumbags, the ones who spread lies and mistreated you, will meet their "Maker"? No, it is not. Neither us any day. Except in self-defense, killing adds complexities and headaches to life which by your definition is complex and full of problems and heartaches because you want to shine, to prove to yourself that you are a man of brains, not brute force. 

As you freely admit, you know you are not exceptionally bright. In fact, you are quite stupid. But you are eternally surprised to run into assholes who are more stupid than you. Take the motherfucker Jimmy Phan, for instance. He opined that to have an argument is to find areas of agreement. That's a biggest croak of devious, lying shit you've ever heard of. Evidently, the motherfucker didn't know or pretended that he didn't know the difference between argument and negotiation. Having an argument is to come to terms with the differences of opinions and to see if the opponent has arguments that are sounder and more persuasive than your own, while negotiation is to find common grounds and interests where both parties feel  what they gain is bigger than what they give up in reaching an agreement. Guys like Jimmy Phan make you want to throw up, feel better about yourself, study and read more. 



(To be continued) 

Book Review of "Fortune Smiles"

Late one night not long ago, when I was losing an ugly bout with insomnia and everyone in my family was snoring in syncopated swing, I read a story in Harper’s Magazine that made me wake my husband up and insist that he read it, no, read it right now. The story is from the point of view of a very sick woman, the wife of a writer, and it speaks about family love and grief and jealousy and guilt and rage and illness with a power that took my breath away. That story, “Interesting Facts,” has now been published with five others, all of them so long they could almost be called novellas, in a new collection titled “Fortune Smiles.” Its author is Adam Johnson, who won the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for his novel about North Korea, “The Orphan Master’s Son.”

The year “The Orphan Master’s Son” came out, the novel was such a bright blaze that all the other books I read seemed photobleached, as if I had stared too long at a halogen bulb and then tried to read through the blobs swarming my vision. I had enjoyed Johnson’s previous two books, a story collection called “Emporium,” which circled the theme of techno-catastrophe, and a novel called “Parasites Like Us,” about an apocalyptic pandemic unleashed by a bumbleheaded anthropologist — but it often seemed with those first two books that the engines of Johnson’s plots didn’t quite have the horsepower to pull along the beauty of his sentences and the manic energy of his invention. “The Orphan Master’s Son” felt like a leap forward, as if Johnson’s absurdist tendencies had finally found their expression in the wild off-kilterness of North Korea, the everyday life that’s so grim there somehow made surreal through Johnson’s exuberant prose.

As with “The Orphan Master’s Son,” there’s a great deal of comedy to be found in “Fortune Smiles,” though the humor in this new book is offset by a darkness so pervasive I found it seeping into my daily life. Despairing men are at the heart of each of these tales, most of them protagonists on the cusp of being antagonists. “Nirvana,” which opens the collection, is a tricky knot of anxiety. In its lightly futuristic world, the president of the United States (who sounds a great deal like President Obama) has been assassinated and the narrator has built a hologram of him out of the dregs of his appearances on the Internet. The hologram is the narrator’s only confidant during an awful span of time in which his wife has been paralyzed and possibly made suicidal by Guillain-Barré syndrome. Another story, “Dark Meadow,” sets a hurdle almost unclearably high: It asks the reader to feel compassion for a man nicknamed Mr. Roses, a person whom most people would find immediately despicable because of his pedophilic tendencies, who starts taking care of two little girls who live down the street. This is the sort of story you read through your fingers, frightened and sickened and moved and made uncomfortable all at once.

In “Hurricanes Anonymous,” a man in Lake Charles, La., after the double-punch of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, finds himself the sudden unwilling single parent of a toddler, a man whose good intentions will probably be thwarted by his weak willpower. In “George Orwell Was a Friend of Mine,” the narrator is the former warden of an East German prison where the Stasi did unspeakable things to inmates, and he’s a person who can justify in his mind the unambiguously bad things he has done to his own wife at night. In the title story, “Fortune Smiles,” a defector from North Korea in the cold wonderland of Seoul may or may not have forced his closest ally to defect with him, thereby alienating the only friend he has.

There’s a line in “Dark Meadow” that applies to the collection as a whole, about a soldier on a bomb squad: “He says you can defuse a bomb in the real world, but the bomb in your head, that’s forever.” Each of these stories plants a small bomb in the reader’s head; life after reading “Fortune Smiles” is a series of small explosions in which the reader — perhaps unwillingly — recognizes Adam Johnson’s gleefully bleak world in her own.

Of course, context is everything, and stories do change meaning when they are gathered together under the single roof of a collection. “Interesting Facts,” the narrative that devastated me in a dark house full of my dreaming family, was complicated and made problematic when hitched to all the other stories in Johnson’s collection. The men in these tales are so trapped by their situations that reading one story after another made me feel as if I had been locked in a room with six intense and unpredictable strangers, all starved for my attention. When comedy is applied to tragedy over and over, it can start to take on an element of defensiveness; cumulatively, it can feel as if Johnson is holding the reader at arm’s length by how cheery his darkness can be. “Interesting Facts” arrives in the collection after “Nirvana” and “Hurricanes Anonymous,” and when it does, that dawning sensation of defensiveness becomes compounded. Johnson makes self-referential jokes about the husband (who has written a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel about North Korea), and in this story the wife, too, is a writer; her husband has taken a pedophile character out of one of her failed books, a man named Mr. Roses, and has written his own story about it called “Dark Meadow,” which we know from the table of contents is waiting in store. This bite of metafiction tasted a little bitter to me, a bit disingenuous, after all the tonal tragicomedy of the other stories; what was a clever and emotionally acute trick when the story stood alone started, in the aggregate, to feel like a frustrating means to forestall criticism. A reader tempted into the fallacy that this story is about the real Adam Johnson’s real wife would feel like a very bad person, indeed, to even begin to think critically about the story at hand.
Among authorial sins, defensiveness feels minor, but when one is being asked to be moved by a story, when the story is so clearly the most heartfelt one in the book, anything distancing that has been inserted in the space between the author and the reader does matter. Perhaps this is to say that the stories in “Fortune Smiles” may be best appreciated when taken out into the sunshine one by one, each allowed to exist as an individual text and left to resonate until the reader forgets the previous story enough to allow the next to speak its piece in full. Adam Johnson’s stories certainly deserve this kind of slow and loving attention. As a writer, he is always perceptive and brave; his lines always sing and strut and sizzle and hush and wash and blaze over the reader. “Fortune Smiles” is a collection worthy of being read slowly and, like very good and very bitter chocolate, savored.

Lauren Groff’s new novel is “Fates and Furies.”
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How IS Defeats Us by Frank Bruni, NYT Columnist

DON’T know how we win the war against ISIS.
But I know how we lose it. The last week has been a thorough and demoralizing education in that.
We lose it with a response to the Paris carnage and a discussion about the path forward that’s driven by partisan grievances and posturing rather than a mature, nuanced attempt to address Americans’ understandable anxiety and acknowledge that we may not be doing the right things or enough of them.
We lose it if President Obama can’t shake off his annoyance with critics and his disgust with some prominent Republicans’ xenophobic pandering long enough to re-examine his strategy and recognize that many Americans’ doubts about it are warranted and earnest.
He was at his worst just after the Paris attacks, when he communicated as much irritation with the second-guessing of his stewardship as he did outrage over Paris and determination to destroy the Islamic State, or ISIS.
He owed us something different, something more. He’d just said, the day before Paris, that ISIS was contained and that it was weakening, so there was an onus on him to make abundantly clear that he grasped the magnitude of the threat and was intensely focused on it.
From Obama we needed fire. Instead we got embers, along with the un-presidential portrayal of Republicans as sniveling wimps whose fears about refugees were akin to their complaints about tough debate questions.
This wasn’t the time for catcalls, from either party. This isn’t the time.
“We don’t make good decisions if it’s based on hysteria,” the president said. That indeed had to be spelled out, and he’s entirely correct.
But we also can’t indulge in wishful thinking, and worries that we’re doing that aren’t solely the province of Republicans. Senator Dianne Feinstein has registered doubts about our response to ISIS, qualms about refugees. So have other leading Democrats, to varying extents.
Senior administration officials, including the F.B.I. director, James Comey, have conceded risks to admitting Syrian refugees and challenges in vetting them. And a majority of Americans oppose letting them in, according to a recent Bloomberg Politics poll.
Obama doesn’t have to agree with that. I think he’s right to push back, in part because there’s no common-sense reason to believe that a terrorist is as likely to enter the United States amid those screened refugees as by crossing the Mexican border, which was apparently the intent of the five Syrians with stolen, doctored Greek passports who were stopped in Honduras last week.
But he must take public sentiment into account and heed other politicians’ apprehensions as he chooses his words and calibrates his tone. The way to get beyond any reflexive, visceral panic after Paris isn’t to mock and belittle it. It’s to explain, with gravity and respect, why certain courses of action would be imprudent and how they’d contradict the very American principles that we intend to be a stirring example to the world.
Principles like pluralism. We lose the war against ISIS if the bloodshed in Paris — or in Beirut — becomes fertile soil for bad ideas like religious litmus tests for refugees or religious litmus tests in general.
No, Donald Trump, we should not be closing mosques and registering Muslims. Those are the repressive, regressive methods of our enemies. No, Ted Cruz, we should not be admitting only Christian refugees.
Answer this: How can the religion of a refugee or anyone else be definitively determined? Zealotry isn’t in the outfit someone wears or the text he or she carries. It resides in the heart, beyond view and detection.
John Kasich, I know you’re floundering in the presidential race, reaching a peak of exasperation and rightly wondering why Republican voters won’t see that you’d be a far better adversary for the Democratic nominee than Trump or Ben Carson would.
But the answer isn’t silly oratorical theater like your proposal last week for a new federal agency to promote Judeo-Christian values. I could write tens of thousands of words about the wrongheadedness of that, but Lindsey Graham did just fine with six words about Kasich’s plan.
“I think that was the Crusades,” Graham said.

WE lose the war against ISIS if we don’t get serious about our presidential candidates. How much more garbage and nonsense do Trump and Carson have to spew before the people supporting them wake up, grow up and realize that it matters greatly who our next commander in chief is?
The most recent national polls suggest that Trump’s perch atop the Republican field is secure. But will Carson be sidelined by accumulating evidence that he knows nothing about foreign affairs, is learning nothing and, as one unnamed Republican insider joked to Politico last week, “thinks the Kurds are a special kind of Wisconsin cheese”?
There are hints that he’s losing ground — and that Cruz is gaining it — but it’s too soon to tell. For some of Carson’s fans, his constant invocations of God are enough. These voters apparently itch to inaugurate a pastor in chief.
But we must elect someone infinitely better prepared than Carson. We must elect someone a million times less rash and cavalier than Trump. We must elect someone more logical than ideological.
And some good could come of this sorrowful juncture if it prompts voters to listen with extra care and extra skepticism to the men and women vying to lead us in this era of great uncertainty.
We lose the war against ISIS if we become too distracted and consoled by the hunt for the masterminds of a given plot, for the terrorists whose names we know. News coverage lavishes attention on that, but we must remember that we got Osama bin Laden, we’ve used drones and airstrikes to take out specific ISIS targets, and here we are, burying and grieving scores of Parisians.
And that’s because ISIS isn’t about a finite pantheon of ruthless puppeteers. It’s about a region in violent disarray, a culture in crisis and all sorts of brutal crosscurrents that no drone alone can address. Our assault on ISIS must be multifaceted, and it was good at least to hear an appreciation of that in Hillary Clinton’s speech on Thursday.
We lose the war against ISIS by being simplistic. We lose it by letting emotion overtake reason.
And we lose it by turning so far inward, so fully against one another and so far away from our ideals that what we’re protecting is no longer what we think it is. We lose the war against ISIS by losing ourselves.
That’s how ISIS defeats us.
I invite you to follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/frankbruni and join me on Facebook.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Sự Thật, Não, và Tôn Giáo

Chỉ có Sự thật mới Giải thoát chúng ta
Minh Chung
***



I. Sự Thật.
Đối với vấn đề sự thật có hai xu hướng tồn tại nơi con người:
- Con người khao khát sự thật, bởi vì chỉ có sự thật chân tình, người ta mới có thể ngồi lại với nhau, mới có thể cùng nhau giải quyết vấn đề cho tốt.
- Con người sợ sự thật và ngại khi nghĩ và nói về sự thật, vì 2 lẽ sau:
1/. Bản thân người đó chuộng sống hình thức, hào nhoáng giả tạo nên sợ bị phanh phui, bóc trần.
2/. Bản thân người đó thiếu khả năng phân tích phán đoán thật giả. Đây là điểm mà số đông con người gặp phải, bởi xu hướng số đông này nặng lối sống tình cảm và thiếu suy nghĩ hay lười suy nghĩ với lý trí. Nhược điểm này chính là đất dụng võ cho các trào lưu tôn giáo phát triển.

II. Tôn giáo.
Tôn giáo có thể nói cụ thể là một tổ chức có tôn chỉ mà người theo tôn giáo là số đông người có tính cách nhiều chấp nhận và ít suy nghĩ, nên tôn chỉ thường được gọi tín điều – tức là các điều quy định của tổ chức mà người theo tôn giáo phải tin vào, thậm chí tin quyết liệt “vô điều kiện”. 
Các tổ chức tôn giáo cho rằng các tín điều này sẽ giúp con người trở nên tốt đẹp (đạo đức), nên gọi đó là đức tin. Tuy nhiên, cái mà các tôn giáo gọi là đức tin thì rất đáng nghi ngờ bởi tính chủ quan áp đặt của tín điều.
Thật vậy, tín điều của tôn giáo có nội dung dựa vào hai sắc thái sau:
1/. Hữu hình:  Tôn giáo dựa vào thiện ác của đạo đức xã hội mà đưa ra thứ luật pháp đơn giản “sơ khai” – điều răn cấm.  Mà chúng ta biết rằng luật pháp của xã hội rất tương đối bởi nó mang tính chủ quan và thay đổi theo không gian và thời gian – tức tùy theo nơi con người sống và chế độ chính trị chẳng hạn. Ở sắc thái của nội dung này, nếu so sánh về mặt giá trị hữu dụng thì có lẽ không cần đến sự hiện hữu của tôn giáo; vì thế tôn giáo phải dựa vào sắc thái nội dung thứ hai sau.
2/. Vô hình:  Tôn giáo đánh trúng vào tâm lý ham sướng sợ khổ, ham sống sợ chết của con người, nên số ít kẻ giả tạo lanh trí đã bày vẽ ra một thần tượng nào đó có khả năng đáp ứng cho các nhu cầu tâm lý này bằng việc dựng đứng và ca ngợi thần thông, phép lạ … để chiêu dụ.
Đối với người theo tôn giáo cũng cần phân biệt làm hai loại:
Loại giả:  Gồm một số ít người lanh trí, lợi dụng tổ chức tôn giáo để thủ lợi cá nhân.
Loại thật:  Gồm số đông người căn trí thấp – nặng về đời sống tinh thần “tình cảm”, bị lợi dụng bởi những hứa hẹn khen thưởng và trừng phạt ảo tưởng, nhưng đáp ứng cho nhu cầu tâm lý ham sướng sợ khổ và ham sống sợ chết của chính mình từ trong nội tâm sâu thẳm. Loại này cũng được chia làm 2 dạng:
       1/. Tu sĩ:  Đây là số ít những người thụ động trong đời sống tinh thần “lý trí”, là những gương mẫu hình thức của tôn giáo. Bằng vào đức tin, họ tự nhồi sọ mình (tự kỷ ám thị) và có nhiệm vụ nhồi sọ (ám thị) cho các tín đồ, để tất cả đều đạt cái gọi là “Đời sống Đức tin”.
       2/. Tín đồ:   Đây là số đông những người thụ động trong đời sống tinh thần “lý trí”, họ dễ bị các tổ chức tôn giáo dụ dẫn và nhồi sọ mà trở nên cuồng tín, và có thể hành động với những thủ đoạn xấu ác nhất – điển hình là vấn đề kinh tài và khủng bố nơi các tổ chức tôn giáo ngày nay.
III. Kết luận.
Qua vài phân tích nói trên, có thể thấy rằng, những ai mong cầu sự thật và tự do nơi tôn giáo quả thật mong manh và đầy bất trắc trói buộc. Sự thật có lẽ may ra chỉ đến với những ai chân thành cầu thị, có lòng dũng cảm, không cố chấp thành kiến, và tự do thật sự chỉ là kết quả tất yếu từ đây. Nói gọn lại “Chỉ có Sự thật mới Giải thoát chúng ta” là thế.



Thầy HQ thân mến,
Bài não tui đã gửi tới thầy rồi, nay xin nhắc lại một ít để giải thích về sự thật.
Sự sống căn bản của con người là vật chấttình cảmlý trí thể hiện rõ nét nơi 3 trung khu của não con người, và được chứng minh nơi 3 loài động vật, với não được phát triển theo thứ tự từ trong ra ngoài: Vật chất à Tình cảm à Lý trí.  Sự phát triển hoàn thiện bộ não của con người theo thời gian từ lúc mới sinh ra tới lúc trưởng thành cũng theo thứ tự này.  Sự thật là đỉnh cao của sự phát triển não, có điều kiện logic là sự hoạt động tốt nơi lý trí (tinh thần khoa học) chứ không nơi tình cảm (tinh thần tôn giáo). Do đó, khi dựa vào tôn giáo mà đi tìm sự thật là một nghịch lý hết sức sai lầm trên hiện thực. Tuy nhiên vẫn có những thầy tu tiến sĩ đề cao niềm tin vào tôn giáo cho vấn đề sự thật; với tui, có thể chắc rằng đây là những lý trí ngụy biện thuộc loại lanh trí tu giả.
Tác giả Minh Chung đã nói rõ “Sự thật có lẽ may ra chỉ đến với những ai chân thành cầu thị, có lòng dũng cảm không nô lệ bằng sự hiểu biết đúng đắn, không cố chấp thành kiến”, chứ sự thật nào có nơi một tinh thần nô lệ, mê muội, cuồng tín được bao bọc bằng mỹ từ “Đức tin”?
TTH


Lettre Ouverte à IS

Images intégrées 2

Daechois, Daechoises
Donc ça y est, c’est officiel, vous êtes en guerre contre nous. Ce qui est frustrant, c’est que vous n’avez ni uniforme ni signe distinctif, on ne sait pas vous reconnaître, et nous n’avons donc personne contre qui se battre.
Frustration qui j’espère n’entraînera pas la désignation de faux coupables. 
Pourtant même si chaque mort représente sans doute pour vous une victoire, il faut que vous sachiez que vous n’êtes pas prêts de gagner. A dire vrai c’est même impossible. 
Parce que quoi que vous fassiez, vous ne nous changerez pas.

Ici, en France, nous ce qu’on aime, c’est la vie. Et tous les plaisirs qui vont avec. Pour nous, entre naître et mourir le plus tard possible, l’idée est principalement de baiser, rire, manger, jouer, baiser, boire, lire, faire la sieste, baiser, discuter, manger, argumenter, peindre, baiser, se promener, jardiner, lire, baiser, offrir, s’engueuler, dormir, regarder des films, se gratter les couilles, péter pour faire rire les copains, mais surtout baiser, et éventuellement se taper une joyeuse petite branlette. On est le pays du plaisir, plus que de la morale. Ici un jour, il y aura peut être une place Monica Lewinsky, et ça nous fera rire. Personne ne l’a jugée, ici.
Alors dans la baise, c’est vrai que nous en France, on fait des trucs avec lesquels vous avez du mal. On aime bien lécher le sexe des femmes. Pas tous, sûrement, mais beaucoup d’entre nous. Et les fesses et le cul, aussi. Là aussi, pas tous, mais bon. Et les femmes aiment bien faire des fellations. On appelle ça des pipes. C’est très agréable. Bien sûr là aussi, toutes les filles n’aiment pas ça, et on ne force personne, mais ça se fait. Régulièrement. Et avec beaucoup de plaisir. Et puis il y a des garçons qui aiment bien ça, aussi. Se faire des fellations ou se lècher ou se pénetrer entre eux. Et les filles pareil. En fait, ici, ce qu’on aime, c’est faire ce qu’on veut. On essaye de pas gêner les autres, c’est le principe, mais on n’aime pas trop qu’on nous dise trop fort ce qu’on doit faire ou ce qu’on ne doit pas faire. Ça s’appelle la Liberté. Retenez bien ce mot, parce qu’au fond, c’est ça que vous n’aimez pas chez nous. Ce n’est ni les Français, ni les caricaturistes, ni les Juifs, ni les clients de café ni les amateurs de rock ou de foot, c’est la Liberté. 
La deuxième chose, c’est qu’en tuant comme ça, à l’aveugle, avec un objectif uniquement comptable, vous prenez le risque de tuer des français de plus en plus représentatifs de la France. A la limite en ne tuant que des juifs, ou que des dessinateurs, les non juifs qui ne savent pas dessiner pouvaient toujours vous trouver des excuses ou se sentir étrangers à cette guerre, mais là ça va être de plus en plus dur. Parce qu’en atteignant un échantillon représentatif de la France, vous allez toucher à ce que nous sommes vraiment. Et qui sommes nous, vraiment? Et bien c’est justement ce qui est beau ici, c’est que nous sommes plein de trucs. Bien sûr il y a quelques français français français. Mais il y a des français italiens, des français espagnols, des français arabes, des français polonais, des français chinois, des français rwandais, des français sénégalais, des français algériens, berbères, ukrainiens, géorgiens, américains, belges, portugais, tunisiens, marocains, tchétchènes, ivoiriens, maliens, syriens, des français catholiques, des français juifs, des français musulmans, des français taoïstes, des français bouddhistes, des français athées, des français agnostiques, des français anticléricaux, des français de gauche, des français de droite, des français du centre, des français abstentionnistes, des français d’extreme gauche, d’extrême droite, il y a même sans doute des français djihadistes et même des français futurs terroristes que vous risquez de tuer. Il y a des français riches, des français pauvres, des français sympas, des français gros cons, des français amoureux, des français égoïstes, des français misanthropes. La liste pourrait s’étendre presque à l’infini, avec toutes les combinaisons et tous les sous groupes possibes. Il y a même des français non français, parce que la France étant si belle, il y a toujours et constamment une partie de notre population qui est les touristes. Sans compter les clandestins, qui ne sont peut être pas officiellement français, mais quand même ils vivent là, donc vous pouvez les tuer comme tout le monde. 
Ça ça s’appelle l’égalité. Face à la mort, vous pouvez toujours cibler ce que vous voulez, vous nous toucherez tous. Et on va comprendre, nous, ce à quoi vous vous attaquez. Nos valeurs. Simples. Celles qui font que la vie ici ressemble à ce qu’elle est. Imparfaite certes, avec son lot d’injustices c’est vrai, mais ce sont ces valeurs qui font que nous vivons dici de manière aussi digne que possible. Ce pays dans lequel nos pères, et les pères de nos pères et leurs pères avant eux ont choisi de vivre, et pour lequel beaucoup d’entre eux se sont battus. 
Et ce qui va arriver, à un moment ou un autre, c’est que nous allons être solidaires, grâce à vous. Nous allons comprendre que ces valeurs sont en danger. Et nous allons les aimer et les faire vivre encore plus fort. Ensemble. Ça ça s’appelle la fraternité. 
C’est pour ça que vous ne pourrez pas gagner. Vous allez faire des morts, oui. Mais aux yeux de l’Histoire, vous ne serez que les symptomes abjects d’une idéologie malade.
Bien sûr nous ne gagnerons pas non plus. Des gens vont mourir, pour rien. D’autres vont décider de s’en remettre à des Le Pen, des Assad ou des Poutine pour se débarasser de vous, et nous allons peut être doublement perdre. 
Mais vous ne gagnerez pas. 
Et ceux qui resteront continueront de baiser, de boire, de dîner ensemble, de se souvenir de ceux qui seront morts, et de baiser.


Sweeping Leaves (new and improved version)

Sweeping Leaves

Winter arrived. Southern Florida was caught by surprise by a cold front which extended from the northeast to southeast. At night the temperature dropped to below 30 F while it could not reach 59F during the day. The sun shyly made its presence known behind thick white clouds, trying to bring its life-sustaining sunlight to all living things.

My yard has six tropical almond trees. Two are next to the little pond on the north side, and the other four stand in a row on the east side. Their leaves merrily opened themselves broadly to the sunlight but they couldn't retain their chlorophyll-rich color. They were quiveringly dazed by the drop of the temperature, and underwent a reluctant transformation of colors. In a week, they put on the colors of yellow, brown, purple, and red. A little rain would suffice to show that the leaves were crying. Recently, despite my hair getting all wet from the rain, I hurriedly took many shots of Nature's precious moments wherein the tropical almonds trees shed their leaves.

Heaven and Earth shook. Winds were gathering in force, shaking and bending all flora. The bougainvillea vine which had been laden with flowers bent at the house's gate. The red flowers were still crimson red when leaving their branches. 

The invisible but strongly manifested winds blended themselves with rapidly flowing clouds; they weaved through the tall swaying creaking bamboo trees; they glided past the challenging, imposing fir and cypress trees; they stooped down to the lowly fields of bent grass; and they penetrated into the trembling and falling multi-hued foliage of tropical almond trees. 

All living things quietly manifested themselves. Leaves were falling off the trees because the trees no longer wanted to hang onto them and thus rejected them with indifference, sending them back to their point of origin, to the good earth. 

Spring came back. The buds on the tropical almond trees received the life force from the earth, and from the light emitting from the sun, moon, and stars. The leaves were developed, then the flowers, and eventually the fruits were formed to enhance Nature's beauty and to provide food to birds and squirrels. Children would enjoy the admixture of the taste of tartness, sweetness,  and sourness of the fruits as well as the buttery taste of the seeds which is similar to that the almond nuts, hence the name Tropical Almond Tree (scientific name: Terminalia catappa L.)

Everyday I would walk around in the yard and often stop at a tropical almond tree, press the two cool leaves to my cheeks, and feel the transmission of the Grace of Nature while reminiscing  the warm hands of my mother on my cheeks when I was a young girl.

Fall was turning into winter, bringing colors to the foliage and beauty to the landscape as life's cycle inexorably would march on.  

When it was time for leaves to fall on the ground, I became a sweeper of leaves. 

With a large broom in my hands, I was not praying for stronger and stronger winds like the two sisters did while gathering the fallen leaves of the tropical almond trees in the story A  Pair of Friends by Nhất Linh, nor was I lamenting "....When Heaven and Earth raised a storm of winds and dust..." like what was happening in the Chinh Phụ Ngâm (Soldier's Wife's Lamentation) by Đặng Trần Côn, but I was thinking of several persons, one of those was my man. When he was sweeping the leaves, he often talked about the sermon Reverend Martin Luther King delivered in a church in Chicago, Illinois in 1967, one year before his being assassinated for his fight for human rights for the blacks in the United States:

 "Even if it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, go on out and sweep like Michelangelo painted pictures; sweep streets like Handel and Beethoven composed music; sweep streets like Shakespeare wrote poetry; sweep streets so well that all the hosts of Heaven and Earth will have to pause and say, "Here lived a street sweeper who swept his job well."

But I dared not be a person of stature. I am just an ordinary person. But could anybody sweep the woods clean of fallen leaves? 

The woods without fallen leaves was like a painting of endless green without a shade of yellow and red, like a piece of music without the notes of mi bémol, like a drama in verse without a subtle smile.

I put all the fallen leaves into sixteen plastic bags, each one weighing 32 pounds. The ground now showed some pebbles among fallen fruits of various colors and shapes: green, brown, fresh, withered, and shattered. The fruits would be left for a squirrel which was clinging on the trunk of the fir tree nearby, its tail raising high, its eyes concentrating on the coveted fruits on the ground. 

The garden was now too clean and neat and somehow not pleasing to the eyes. It lacked vitality. I wished for the arrival of the winds once more, but my wish was met with a still silence. So I took hold of a tree trunk and shook it. 

Leaves slowly floated down. 

The picture of Modi got more colors. A piece of music by Beethoven got more bass notes. And a drama by Shakespeare was fortified by a subtle smile. 

To be or not to be
Let it be
Be yourself. Don't be anybody else. 

Florida
Fall of 2011
Amended Translation by Wissai on November 21, 2015. 

Also read Atheism in Wikipedia where you will learn Atheism also existed in Ancient India

Truths only come to those who are emotionally brave and intellectually strong, thunderously whispered Wissai

BATTLING THE GODS
Atheism in the Ancient World
By Tim Whitmarsh
290 pp. Alfred A. Knopf. $27.95.
 The philosopher Sydney Morgenbesser, beloved by generations of Columbia University students (including me), was known for lines of wit that yielded nuggets of insight. He kept up his instructive shtick until the end, remarking to a colleague shortly before he died: “Why is God making me suffer so much? Just because I don’t believe in him?” For Morgenbesser, nothing worth pondering, including disbelief, could be entirely de-paradoxed.

The major thesis of Tim Whitmarsh’s excellent “Battling the Gods” is that atheism — in all its nuanced varieties, even Morgenbesserian — isn’t a product of the modern age but rather reaches back to early Western intellectual tradition in the ancient Greek world. 

The period that Whitmarsh covers is roughly 1,000 years, during which the Greek-speaking population emerged from illiteracy and anomie, became organized into independent city-states that spawned a high-achieving culture, were absorbed into the Macedonian Empire and then into the Roman Empire, and finally became Christianized. These momentous political shifts are efficiently traced, with astute commentary on their reflection in religious attitudes. 

But the best part of “Battling the Gods” is the Greek chorus of atheists themselves, who speak distinctively throughout each of the political transformations — until, that is, the last of them, when they go silent. If you’ve been paying attention to contemporary atheists you might be startled by the familiarity of the ancient positions. 

So here is Democritus in the fifth century B.C. — he who coined the term “atom,” from the Greek for “indivisible,” speculating that reality consisted of nothing but fundamental particles swirling randomly around in the void — propounding an anthropological theory of the origins of religious beliefs. Talk of “the gods,” he argued, comes naturally to primitive people who, unable yet to grasp the laws of nature, resort to fantastical storytelling. The exact titles of his works remain in doubt, but his naturalist explanation of the origins of conventional religion might have made use of Daniel C. Dennett’s title “Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon.” 

Or take the inflammatory title of Christopher Hitchens’s book, “God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything.” Lucretius, who lived in the first century B.C., chose a more neutral title for his magnificent poem, “De Rerum Natura,” or “On the Nature of Things,” but he concurred with the sentiment expressed in Hitchens’s subtitle. He focused not just on the groundlessness of beliefs proffered in ignorance of the natural causes of physical phenomena, but also on their behavioral consequences. In the grip of religious conviction, a person will commit acts too horrific to otherwise contemplate. So Agamemnon, advised by a priest, made a human sacrifice of his daughter to appease the goddess Artemis, who had been offended over the killing of a deer. “Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum,” Lucretius wrote: “Such is the terrible evil that religion was able to induce.” Though the religion may have changed, the point remained sufficiently pertinent for Voltaire to quote the line to Frederick II of Prussia in urging the case for secularism. 

But whereas Lucretius focused on the immorality of men when under their religious delusions, other ancients stressed the immorality of the gods themselves, who either passively permit or actively participate in human tragedies. The gods are not great. Euripides, toward the end of his life, composed “The Madness of Heracles,” which has one character dressing down Zeus: “You are a stupid kind of god, or by nature you are unjust.” Mortals morally overtake immortals, the gods being oblivious to what the virtuous know: the value of human life, the outrage of its guiltless suffering. 
And then there are those pre-Socratics, like Xenophanes and Anaxagoras, who, in my mind, foreshadow what would be Spinoza’s special brand of atheism, identifying God with nature — or, more specifically, the intelligible structure of nature expressed in unchangeable laws. “Xenophanes, then, was not an atheist in any straightforward sense,” Whitmarsh writes. “He was not denying the existence of deity but radically redefining it.” The author goes on to ask whether anything would be lost “in Xenophanes’ account of the world if we substituted ‘nature’ for ‘the one god.’ ” Such a redefinition reappears not only in Spinoza’s magnum opus, the posthumously published Ethics, but in those who studied Spinoza, including Einstein. When asked whether he believed in God, Einstein responded, “I believe in Spinoza’s God,” which amounted to an affirmation of the guiding principle of science, namely nature’s beautiful intelligibility. 

But where, among the ancient Greeks, did I catch the strains of Sydney Morgenbesser? Not surprisingly, it was in a play by the comic poet Aristophanes, who, like Euripides, was an Athenian of the fifth century B.C. In the opening scene of “Knights,” two slaves are complaining about another overbearing slave. How can they evade him? One suggests they go to the statue of some god and prostrate themselves, which calls forth a disdainful reaction from the other: Do you really believe in gods? What’s your proof? “The fact that I’m cursed by them,” comes the response. I can well imagine Sydney in the role. 

Ancient Greece was full of myths, and we are full of myths about ancient Greece. One of these is that Greece was so replete with religion — for there were indeed religious rites accompanying almost every facet of public life — that it soaked through to the Greek view of both the physical and the moral spheres. This is demonstrably false. As Whitmarsh states, Greek religion was consistently silent on precisely those questions on which religion as we know it is most noisily insistent: “As a rule, Greek religion had very little to say about morality and the nature of the world.” Scholars have all too often imposed the Abrahamic conception of religion onto the ancient Greek world, thereby failing to see how a secular worldview easily cohabited with frenetic religious activity. 

But if Greek religion didn’t ponder the great moral and metaphysical questions, what was its point? Whitmarsh argues convincingly that Greek religion functioned mainly as an expression of civic engagement, both at the local level of the city-states, each of which had its own favored divinities and rites, and at the broader level of greater Hellenicity. 

The civic function of their religion left Greeks the intellectual space in which to exercise reason in pursuing ontological and normative questions, which led to the beginnings of both natural philosophy (later called science), devoted to puzzling out the nature of reality, and moral philosophy, devoted to puzzling out how we best ought to live. Both disciplines are necessary for a robust secularism; Whitmarsh shortchanges one of them, which results in some sentences that I would wish away from this admirable book, including: “In an advanced capitalist economy based on technological innovation, it has been necessary to claw intellectual and moral authority away from the clergy and reallocate it to the secular specialists in science and engineering.”

Thank God, secular specialties aren’t confined to science and engineering but also include moral philosophy, which, if it has stopped short of presuming the mantle of “moral authority,” has nevertheless helped in the laborious process of expanding our moral intuitions. 
Or rather, don’t thank God. Thank the Greeks. 

Rebecca Newberger Goldstein is the author, most recently, of “Plato at the Googleplex: Why Philosophy Won’t Go Away.” She is a recipient of this year’s National Humanities Medal.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Envy and Reality

Envy and Reality

Envy is a blockage to understand another human being and a deterrence to personal growth.

Theism is for idiots and emotional cowards. They invented the notion of  "God" to satisfy their need for security. These stupid motherfuckers ironically refuse to invoke God when it does not suit them. Take the terrorist attacks in Paris by ISIS in November, 2015. They didn't or couldn't see the laws of karma at work. They stupidly "reasoned' that innocent Frenchmen and foreigners didn't harm ISIS, so they couldn't understand why these people got murdered. They were too stupid to see the attacks were aimed at France and that these poor victims were collateral damage. They were so fucking dumb to distinguish causal relationships from coincidences. The victims were at the wrong places at the wrong time. The bigger picture was that if France had not colonized and then recently bombed some Muslim countries in Africa and then mistreated the ensuing immigrants from these countries, and if France had not bombed ISIS, ISIS would not have attacked Paris. 

The bottom line is that you cannot reason with idiots, dumb asses, and motherfuckers. They are too stupid. That was why they believe in the existence of "God" in the first place. But as I remarked, why didn't they say "God" "punished " those victims who died at the hands of the murderous terrorists? Stupid theists invoke "God" only when it suits their needs, otherwise they blame everybody else, and not at themselves. They are too dumb to have self-awareness. 


(To be continued) 

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Is Any Place Safe?

Paris — FRIDAY night, after the terrorist attacks in Paris, I went out into the streets. I was confused and afraid, of course. But the terrible things that had happened — I wanted to see them for myself, breathe them in, walk among them. It was a little past 11 and the streets were deserted, silent. Paris no longer existed. Paris had fallen.
On my way home, I ran into my 60-something neighbor Monique in the stairwell. We exchanged kisses more warmly than usual. “This is the end!” she said. “Where are we going to live now?”
“Where are we going to live now?” The question kept running through my mind. I came to Paris 16 years ago from Morocco, as a young, gay Muslim. What will happen to my city now?
The attacks have taught us that there are no more borders. What happens in Syria, in Iraq or in Afghanistan also happens in Paris.
The news came from one of my sisters, back in Morocco. Her phone call woke me up at 10:15. “Paris is at war. War! Where are you? Are you all right?”
Paris? At war? Let’s keep things in perspective. Terrorist attacks, yes, but not war. War is somewhere else, far away. I thought I was smarter than my sister. Later, in the deserted streets, I realized I was wrong. War had come to Paris. A war that had begun long ago. We’d waged it elsewhere — in Iraq, in Mali, in Libya. We’d watched it on TV. And now here it was, escaped from our screens and pointing an accusing finger. No one is innocent.
“Don’t go out. Stay at home, do you hear? Please don’t go out in the street in the next few days,” my sister said. “Eat whatever you have at home. Do you understand me?”
The same terror that held me frozen gripped my sister, too, more than a thousand miles away in Rabat, in the distant Moroccan night. Say what you will, there are no more safe places left. Paris was going under. Islamist terrorism will spare no one now, neither in Baghdad nor in London.
I didn’t take my sister’s advice. I couldn’t. I had to go out into the streets. To see with my own eyes. To show my solidarity.
I made my life in Paris because I believe in its values: rationalist, humanist, universalist. But Paris is a city that has, in losing its borders, lost certain values as well. The neglect of a segment of our youth (especially those of Maghrebi origin, from countries like Morocco or Algeria) is an undeniable reality. This neglect has produced an environment conducive to radicalization, joyous nihilism and, now, carnage. Racist attitudes, ever more frequently espoused by certain politicians and intellectuals, have become the stuff of daily life.
France has responded to Friday’s attacks with the following words, repeated in an endless loop: reinforced security, counterattack, war. Do we not understand that this is the very response the Islamic State wished to provoke?
The experience of citizens of the Arab world holds a lesson for France. Their leaders have long resisted embarking on any true modernization or self-examination. They are more oppressive than ever, doing whatever it takes to keep their people from declaring freedom.
As I walked through Paris, maimed as Beirut was by another bomb just the night before, I realized that the citizens of France would have to come to intimate terms with what people in Kabul, Baghdad, Sanaa and elsewhere have experienced for years. The very heart of what they hold most dear has been wounded: freedom. The freedom to go out, dance, have fun, listen to music, make art, rejoice — and for a moment, be innocent.
I left Morocco as a young and desperate gay man. In Paris, I found a place where I could fight for myself and for my dreams. But I know now that nowhere is totally free or safe.
The Parisians will put up a fight to protect their way of life, of that I am convinced. I just hope that fight upholds France’s values of liberté and fraternité, instead of becoming mired in racism, Islamophobic hysteria and a new war on terror. But, deep inside, I suspect that my hopes will not come true.
The day after the attack, we learned that a Syrian passport had been found near one of the suicide bombers who blew himself up by the Stade de France. It was most likely stolen or fake, and yet it was immediately used to make a case for reinforcing security and tightening borders, playing off the hatred for refugees now spreading throughout Europe.
Europe is becoming increasingly extreme. But remember: When it comes to extremism, the Islamist terrorists have a huge head start.
“Where are we going to live now?” Monique asked. I still don’t know how to answer.
Abdellah Taïa is the author of the novels “An Arab Melancholia” and the forthcoming “Infidels.” This essay was translated by Edward Gauvin from the French.

Paris: The War ISIS Wants Scott Atran and Nafees Hamid from NYR Daily

The shock produced by the multiple coordinated attacks in Paris on Friday—the scenes of indiscriminate bloodshed and terror on the streets, the outrage against Islamic extremism among the public, French President Francois Holland’s vow to be “merciless” in the fight against the “barbarians of the Islamic State”—is, unfortunately, precisely what ISIS intended. For the greater the hostility toward Muslims in Europe and the deeper the West becomes involved in military action in the Middle East, the closer ISIS comes to its goal of creating and managing chaos.

This is a strategy that has enabled it to confound far superior international forces, while enhancing its legitimacy in the eyes of its followers. The complexity of the French plot also suggests how successful ISIS has been at cultivating sources of support within the native populations of secular Western countries. Attacking ISIS in Syria will not contain this global movement, which now includes more than two thousand French citizens. 

As our own research has shown—in interviews with youth in Paris, London, and Barcelona, as well as with captured ISIS fighters in Iraq and Jabhat an-Nusra (al-Qaeda) fighters from Syria—simply treating the Islamic State as a form of “terrorism” or “violent extremism” masks the menace. Dismissing the group as “nihilistic” reflects a dangerous avoidance of trying to comprehend, and deal with, its profoundly alluring mission to change and save the world. What many in the international community regard as acts of senseless, horrific violence are to ISIS’s followers part of an exalted campaign of purification through sacrificial killing and self-immolation. This is the purposeful violence that Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the Islamic State’s self-anointed Caliph, has called “the volcanoes of Jihad”—creating an international jihadi archipelago that will eventually unite to destroy the present world to create a new-old world of universal justice and peace under the Prophet’s banner.

Indeed, ISIS’s theatrical brutality—whether in the Middle East or now in Europe—is part of a conscious plan designed to instill among believers a sense of meaning that is sacred and sublime, while scaring the hell out of fence-sitters and enemies. This strategy was outlined in the 2004 manifesto Idarat at Tawahoush(The Management of Savagery), a tract written for ISIS’s precursor, the Iraqi branch of al-Qaeda; tawahoush comes from wahsh or “beast,” so an animal-like state. Here are some of its main axioms:

Diversify and widen the vexation strikes against the Crusader-Zionist enemy in every place in the Islamic world, and even outside of it if possible, so as to disperse the efforts of the alliance of the enemy and thus drain it to the greatest extent possible. 

To be effective, attacks should be launched against soft targets that cannot possibly be defended to any appreciable degree, leading to a debilitating security state:

If a tourist resort that the Crusaders patronize…is hit, all of the tourist resorts in all of the states of the world will have to be secured by the work of additional forces, which are double the ordinary amount, and a huge increase in spending. 

Crucially, these tactics are also designed to appeal to disaffected young who tend to rebel against authority, are eager for for self-sacrifice, and are filled with energy and idealism that calls for “moderation” (wasatiyyah) only seek to suppress. The aim is

to motivate crowds drawn from the masses to fly to the regions which we manage, particularly the youth… [For] the youth of the nation are closer to the innate nature [of humans] on account of the rebelliousness within them.

Finally, these violent attacks should be used to draw the West as deeply and actively as possible into military conflict:

Work to expose the weakness of America’s centralized power by pushing it to abandon the media psychological war and war by proxy until it fights directly. 

Eleven years later, ISIS is using this approach against America’s most important allies in Europe. For ISIS, causing chaos in France has special impetus. The first major military push by the Islamic State Caliphate in the summer of 2014 was to obliterate the international border between Syria and Iraq—a symbol of the arbitrary division of the Arab and Muslim world imposed by France and Great Britain after the defeat of the Ottoman Empire, seat of the last Muslim Caliphate. And because the lights of Paris epitomize cultural secularism for the world and thus “ignorance of divine guidance” (jahiliyyah), they must be extinguished until rekindled by God’s divine radiance (an-Noor).

The fact that the EU’s replacement rate is 1.59 children per couple and the continent needs substantial levels of immigration to maintain a productive workforce—at a time where there is a refugee crisis and amid greater hostility to immigrants than ever—is another form of chaos the Islamic State is well-positioned to exploit. French authorities have found the passport, possibly doctored, of one Syrian national associated with the Paris attacks, as well as two fake Turkish passports, indicating that ISIS is taking advantage of Europe’s refugee crisis, and encouraging hostility and suspicion toward those legitimately seeking refuge in order to further drive a wedge between Muslims and European non-Muslims.

Today, France has one of the largest Muslim minorities in Europe. French Muslims are also predominantly a social underclass, a legacy of France’s colonial past and indifference to its aftermath. For example, although just 7 to 8 percent of France’s population is Muslim, as much as 70 percent of the prison population is Muslim, a situation that has left a very large number of young French Muslims vulnerable to absorbing radical ideas in prison and out. Within this social landscape, ISIS finds success. France has contributed more foreign fighters to ISIS than any other Western country. 

One attacker at the Bataclan concert hall, where the highest number of people were killed, was twenty-nine-year-old Ismaël Omar Mostefaï, a French citizen of Algerian and Portuguese origin from the Paris area. He had a criminal record and had traveled to Syria for a few months between 2013 and 2014—a profile similar to the two Kouachi brothers, also French nationals of Algerian origin living in Paris proper, who had trained with al-Qaeda’s affiliate in Yemen before carrying out the Charlie Hebdo attacks in Paris in January. 

Other presumed plotters of Friday’s attacks include two brothers, Salah Abdeslam Salah, twenty-six, who remains at large, and his brother Ibrahim, thirty-one, who detonated a suicide bomb near the Stade de France soccer stadium. Although French citizens, the Abdeslam brothers had been living in Molenbeek, a poor Brussels barrio populated by Arab immigrants. In the last year, weapons from that neighborhood have been linked to Parisian-born Amedy Coulilaby, a thirty-three-year-old of Malian descent who had been a jail buddy of one of the Kouachi brothers and who carried out the lethal January attack on a Kosher supermarket in Paris; and Mehdi Nemmouche, twenty-nine, a French national of Algerian origin who spent a over a year with ISIS in Syria and was responsible for the deadly shootings at the Jewish Museum of Belgium. Another of the Paris suicide bombers, twenty-year-old Bilal Hadfi, was also a French national who fought with the Islamic State before returning to Belgium, which has the highest per capita rate of jihadi volunteers from Europe. Two other Belgians, one of whom was eighteen, were also involved in the Paris attacks, as well as a twenty-seven-year-old Egyptian, Yousef Salahel. 

As with the 2004 Madrid train bombings and the 2005 London Underground bombings, what seems to be emerging from the fragmentary reports so far is that the Paris attacks were carried out by a loose network of family, friends, and fellow travelers who may have each followed their own, somewhat independent paths to radical Islam before joining up with ISIS. But their closely coordinated actions at multiple sites in Paris indicate a significant degree of training, collective planning, and command and control by the Islamic State (including via encrypted messages), under the likely direction of Abdelhamid Abaooud, known as Abu Omar, “The Belgian,” a twenty-seven-year-old of Moroccan origin from Molenbeek, a former jail mate of Salah Abdelslam, who is known to have traveled back and forth between Europe and the Middle East.

Such coordination has been facilitated by the very large contingent of French foreign fighters in Syria. In April, French Senator Jean-Pierre Suer said that 1,430 men and women from France had made their way to Iraq and Syria, up from just twenty as of 2012. About 20 percent of these people are converts. The latest report from West Point’s Center for Combating Terrorism, which has detailed records on 182 French fighters, notes that most are in their twenties. About 25 percent come from the Paris area, with the rest scattered over smaller regions throughout France. According to France’s Interior Ministry, 571 French citizens or residents are presently in Syria and Iraq, some with al-Qaeda affiliate Jabhat an-Nusra, but most with ISIS. More than 260 people are known to have returned to France, and more than 2,000 people from France have been directly implicated in the jihadi pipeline to and from the region, which extends across Europe: police have already made arrests in Belgium and Germany related to the Paris attacks, and traced the entry into Europe of one of the attackers, a Syrian national, through Greece. 

French counterterrorism surveillance data (FSPRT) has identified 11,400 radical Islamists, 25 percent of whom are women and 16 percent minors—among the minors, females are in a majority. Legal proceedings are now underway against 646 people suspected of involvement in terrorist activity. French Prime Minister Manuel Valls conceded after Friday’s attacks that even keeping full track of those suspected of being prone to violent acts is practically impossible: around-the-clock surveillance of a single individual requires ten to twenty security agents, of which there are only 6,500 for all of France.

Nor is it a matter of controlling the flow of people into France. France’s Center for the Prevention of Sectarian Drift Related to Islam (CPDSI) estimates that 90 percent of French citizens who have radical Islamist beliefs have French grandparents and 80 percent come from non-religious families. In fact, most Europeans who are drawn into jihad are “born again” into radical religion by their social peers. In France, and in Europe more generally, more than three of every four recruits join the Islamic State together with friends, while only one in five do so with family members and very few through direct recruitment by strangers. Many of these young people identify with neither the country their parents come from nor the country in which they live. Other identities are weak and non-motivating. One woman in the Paris suburb of Clichy-sous-Bois described her conversion as being like that of a transgender person who opts out of the gender assigned at birth: “I was like a Muslim trapped in a Christian body,” she said. She believed she was only able to live fully as a Muslim with dignity in the Islamic State.

For others who have struggled to find meaning in their lives, ISIS is a thrilling cause and call to action that promises glory and esteem in the eyes of friends, and through friends, eternal respect and remembrance in the wider world that many of them will never live to enjoy. A July 2014 poll by ICM Research suggested that more than one in four French youth of all creeds between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four have a favorable or very favorable opinion of ISIS. Even if these estimates are high, in our own interviews with young people in the vast and soulless housing projects of the Paris banlieues we found surprisingly wide tolerance or support for ISIS among young people who want to be rebels with a cause—who want, as they see it, to defend the oppressed.

Yet the desire these young people in France express is not to be a “devout Muslim” but to become a mujahid(“holy warrior”): to take the radical step, immediately satisfying and life-changing, to obtain meaning through self-sacrifice. Although feelings of marginalization and outrage may build over a long time, the transition from struggling identity to mujahid is often fast and furious. The death of six of the eight Paris attackers by suicide bombs and one in a hail of police bullets testifies to the sincerity of this commitment, as do the hundreds of French volunteer deaths in Syria and Iraq.

As one twenty-four-year-old who joined Jabhat an-Nusra in Syria told us:

They [Western society] teach us to work hard to buy a nice car and nice clothes but that isn’t happiness. I was a third-class human because I wasn’t integrated into a corrupted system. But I didn’t want to be a street gangster. So, I and my friends simply decided to go around and invite people to join Islam. The other Muslim groups in the city just talk. They think a true Muslim state will just rain from heaven on them without fighting and striving hard on the path of Allah.

French converts from families of Christian origin are often the most vociferous defenders of the Islamic State. There’s something about joining someone else’s fight that makes one fierce. When we asked a former body builder from Epinay-sur-Seine, a northern suburb of Paris, why he converted to Islam he said that he had been in and out of jail, constantly getting into trouble. “I was a mess, with nothing to me, until the idea of following the mujahid’s way gave me rules to live by”: to channel his energy into jihad and defend his Muslim brethren under attack from infidels in France and everywhere, “from Palestine to Burma.” 

Because many foreign volunteers are marginal in their host countries, a pervasive belief among Western governments and NGOs is that offering would-be enlistees jobs or spouses or access to education could reduce violence and counter the Caliphate’s pull. But a still unpublished report by the World Bank shows no reliable relationship between increasing employment and reducing violence, suggesting that people with such opportunities are just as likely to be susceptible to jihadism. When I asked one World Bank representative why this was not published, he responded, “Our clients [that is, governments] wouldn’t like it because they’ve got too much invested in the idea.”

As research has shown with those who joined al-Qaeda, prior marriage does not seem to be a deterrent to those now volunteering for ISIS; and among the senior ranks of such groups, there are many who have had access to considerable education—especially in scientific fields such as engineering and medicine that require great discipline and a willingness to delay gratification. If people are ready to sacrifice their lives, then it is not likely that offers of greater material advantages will stop them. (In fact, our research shows that material incentives, or disincentives, often backfire and increasecommitment by devoted actors). 

In its feckless “Think Again Turn Away” social media program, the US State Department has tried to dissuade youth with mostly negative anonymous messaging. “So DAESH wants to build a future, well is beheading a future you want, or someone controlling details of your diet and dress?” Can anyone not know that already? Does it really matter to those drawn to the cause despite, or even because of, such things? As one teenage girl from a Chicago suburb retorted to FBI agents who stopped her from flying to Syria: “Well, what about the barrel bombings that kill thousands? Maybe if the beheading helps to stop that.” And for some, strict obedience provides freedom from uncertainty about what a good person is to do.

By contrast, the Islamic State may spend hundreds of hours trying to enlist single individuals and groups of friends, empathizing instead of lecturing, to learn how to turn their personal frustrations and grievances into a universal theme of persecution against all Muslims, and thus translate anger and frustrated aspiration into moral outrage. From Syria, a young woman messages another:

I know how hard it is to leave behind the mother and father you love, and not tell them until you are here, that you will always love them but that you were put on this earth to do more than be with or honor your parents. I know this will probably be the hardest thing you may ever have to do, but let me help you explain it to yourself and to them.

And any serious engagement must be attuned to individuals and their networks, not to mass marketing of repetitive messages. Young people empathize with each other; they generally don’t lecture at one another. There are nearly fifty thousand Twitter accounts supporting ISIS, with an average of some one thousand followers each. 

In Amman last month, a former imam from the Islamic State told us: 

The young who came to us were not to be lectured at like witless children; they are for the most part understanding and compassionate, but misguided. We have to give them a better message, but a positive one to compete. Otherwise, they will be lost to Daesh.

Some officials speaking for Western governments at the East Asia summit in Singapore last April argued that the Caliphate is traditional power politics masquerading as mythology. Research on those drawn to the cause show that this is a dangerous misconception. The Caliphate has re-emerged as a seductive mobilizing cause in the minds of many Muslims, from the Levant to Western Europe. As one imam in Barcelona involved in interfaith dialogue with Christians and Jews told us: “I am against the violence of al-Qaeda and ISIS, but they have put our predicament in Europe and elsewhere on the map. Before, we were just ignored. And the Caliphate…. We dream of it like the Jews long dreamed of Zion. Maybe it can be a federation, like the European Union, of Muslim peoples. The Caliphate is here, in our hearts, even if we don’t know what real form it will finally take.” 

France, the United States, and our allies may opt for force of arms, with all of the unforeseen and unintended consequences that are likely to result from all-out war. But even if ISIS is destroyed, its message could still captivate many in coming generations. Until we recognize the passions this message is capable of stirring up among disaffected youth around the world, we risk strengthening them and contributing to the chaos that ISIS cherishes.