The World Last Week: The Ottawa Shootings

We all know what happened last week...except we don't. Not yet.

We know that a Canadian of Libyan descent, Michael Zehaf-Bibeau, went on a shooting rampage in the vicinity of the Canadian Parliament. We know that 24-year old Cpl. Nathan Cirillo, who was guarding a war memorial in the area, was shot and killed. We know that Zehaf-Bibeau was killed by Sergeant-At-Arms Kevin Vickers, who retrieved a handgun and shot the shooter near Canada's parliament. It wasn't the first shooting in Canada that week, either - a soldier was killed in a hit-and-run Quebec just days before.

We don't know what prompted Zehaf-Bibeau's rampage. But I can guess.

Canada, along with Australia and the United Kingdom, is engaged in the bombing of ISIS alongside the United States. In the days leading up to the attack, Zehaf-Bibeau supposedly made comments about wanting to kill the people who were killing Muslims in Iraq and Syria. It stands to reason that Zehaf-Bibeau, who was kicked out of several Canadian mosques for his hardline views, was attempting to avenge the deaths of his fellow extremists by attacking the seat of the Canadian government. This raises quite a few questions for us, chief among them: are we safe from this type of attack?

For what it's worth, I think we are. We're definitely safe from an attack identical to Zehaf-Bibeau's, and there's one reason: gun culture. Zehaf-Bibeau was armed with an illegally-owned firearm, but it wasn't an assault rifle or a semi-automatic - it was a lever-action, thirty-caliber Winchester rifle. Cpl. Cirillo was unarmed when he was gunned down. Canada's strict gun laws keep gun violence down to a very low level, but this is the trade-off. We all know what would happen if a terrorist pulled a Winchester in Dallas or Montgomery or Little Rock. Canada's policies, which benefit its citizens at large, stand in stark contrast to America's, and the main drawback is very visible here. Living in America, it's astounding to me that a nation's center of government would be so poorly defended that a man acting alone, armed with a World War One era rifle, could get within striking distance of key national leaders. Because ten terrorists armed with assault rifles wouldn't make it halfway up Capitol Hill without being gunned down.

I suppose the main point I'm driving at is that American society is radically different than the society of our northern ally, in spite of the historical, linguistic and cultural ties we share. It's a chilling reminder of America's role in the world, and that assisting us can hurt our allies in ways beyond our control. We're a superpower, and one of the world's most formidable nations. But a faceless coalition of enemies scattered across the globe is devoted to destroying our security and our way of life. It would not do for us to be caught off-guard as Canada was last week, and as we were thirteen years ago. The world is always watching us - we need to perform accordingly.

The Accidental Masterpiece: Finding Yourself When You're Lost

This seventh chapter of Michael Kimmelman's The Accidental Masterpiece discussed the quality and caliber of art that is created under extenuating circumstances. Though it explains multiple occasions when the artist's situation inspired their art, or even turned the individuals into artists, the primary focus of the chapter is on Frank Hurley, a photographer who participated in two nightmarish Antarctic expeditions, the second of which had a happy ending. As a history buff, I was surprised that I'd never heard of Shackleton's 1914 expedition. I knew all about Mawson's ill-fated expedition, not to mention the Norwegian Roald Amundsen's successful voyage, before reading this chapter. But Ernest Shackleton was not a name I'd ever heard, to my knowledge. Both of Hurley's expeditions are harrowing stories of survival in the face of extreme hardship. It's surprising Hollywood hasn't taken his story up yet - I'd watch that movie. With a decent cast and a solid director, it'd be better than most films coming out of LA these days...but I digress. The point is, Frank Hurley was a certifiable lunatic. And I think he and I would have gotten along famously. The man was unbelievably passionate about what he did, and his thirst for adventure was insatiable. Kimmelman was right - Hurley probably enjoyed every minute he spent stranded in Antarctica. I doubt he'd have cared if he perished on any of his voyages, so long as his photographs survived him. There's something undeniably admirable about that degree of devotion.

The World This Week: Chemical Weapons

This is a big one.
Remember when Bush launched Iraq War Two (the 2003 invasion, with Iraq War One being the Persian Gulf War) on the grounds that there were active weapons of mass destruction in Iraq? And how it all blew up in his face when there were no weapons of mass destruction there?
Well, as the world learned this week, that second part of that equation is a bit flawed. Because there evidently were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. And there were a hell of a lot of them at that.

This first link goes to a version of the actual document. The second link goes to an article on the subject.
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2014/10/14/world/middleeast/us-intelligence-documents-on-chemical-weapons-found-in-iraq.html
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2014/10/14/world/middleeast/us-casualties-of-iraq-chemical-weapons.html

So Bush was right! Well...no, he wasn't. Not from what we know at this point, at any rate. The key word, as the Times points out, is active. The chemical shells mentioned in the article, and the several thousand like them, were not being used actively by the Iraqi military. The overwhelming majority of them were buried in various sites around Iraq, relics from old battles. The far right, as one would expect, is having a field day nonetheless. The far left jumps on the word active, undercutting the significance of this discovery - something the Times does not do.

I said earlier that from what we know at this point, Bush's claims about active chemical weapons were unfounded. But the fact that inactive chemical weapons were discovered -  in the thousands, no less - during America's time in Iraq makes it far more likely that active chemical weapons did exist, and may still exist, in the region. That second bit is the most frightening part, because the section of Iraq where most of the inactive chemical shells were uncovered is currently in the grips of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria. Assuming there were, or are, active chemical weapons in Iraq, it would stand to reason that they'd be in this same area. If ISIS were to get its hands on chemical weapons...that story wouldn't have a happy ending. In all honesty, we'd probably be looking at Iraq War Three. That wouldn't end well - certainly not for ISIS, and certainly not for us. One only has to look at the last two Iraq wars  to understand why we'd feel the bite in the end. Is there a long-term answer? Can America do anything to help in the end? Or will we only make things worse for everybody by involving ourselves? Your guess is as good as mine.

The Accidental Masterpiece: Maximizing Your Time

I'm beginning to lose track of which chapter I'm on in the book...five? Six? I take that as a good thing, of course. If your primary concern while reading a book is what chapter you're on, there's a problem you need to fix. At any rate, this chapter of Kimmelman's The Accidental Masterpiece dealt with the ways artists try to "Maximize Their Time." Kimmelman took a more literal view of this idea, discussing artists like Jay DeFeo and Eva Hesse, who were both terminally ill and died before their times, and Charlotte Salomon, a Jewish artist who died in Auschwitz after years of hiding (albeit in plain sight) in the French Riviera. That aside, Kimmelman spent a noteworthy amount of time on the more metaphorical meaning of the statement. I took this figurative view - to me, "maximizing your time" when it comes to art means making sure your art will be there for posterity in the eons after you've gone. One point Kimmelman makes early on, about the "eternal attraction" of art, made me think of my old pal Tolkien. I've learned from documentaries I've seen on Tolkien's writing (yes, there are documentaries on Tolkien, and I have watched them), which included interviews with his children, that he didn't have any set influence for many of the elements in his book. The descriptions were inspired by his own experiences, of course, but there was nothing he had in mind for the themes. For instance, the Black Land of Mordor isn't based on the possibility of nuclear war, or Nazi atrocities, or the Soviet regime, or anything of that sort. Mordor is based on whatever the reader thinks it's based upon. There is no wrong view, because Tolkien didn't have a view (which would therefore be considered the "right" view). Anybody - literally, anybody - can assign their own meaning to what Mordor, or the Elves, or the Men, or any of the other elements in Tolkien's works is representative of. And they'll be right every time. That's a big chunk of what makes Tolkien's work so endearingly popular - anybody, in any time period, can find meaning in his work. And as such, Tolkien's works will live on until the end of civilization. Or until people stop reading books...which is the same thing as a societal collapse, if you ask me.

The Accidental Masterpiece: The Art of Collecting

In this fifth chapter of Michael Kimmelman's The Accidental Masterpiece, entitled "The Art of Collecting Lightbulbs," Kimmelman explores the nature of the "art" of collecting. I put the "art" in quotation marks because, as Kimmelman argues, collecting is a form of art that is hardly recognized by the "hoity-toighty" art world. His anecdote to Albert Barnes speaks for itself in this case. For this chapter, I'm going to deviate from my standard chapter response - an analysis of the anecdotes, commentary on his form, and so on - and get a bit more personal. First off, the subject of Hugh Hicks' lightbulb collection intrigues me to no end. As a history buff, I find it amazing that one man was able to compile relics from so many different places from multiple periods of time. The fact that his entire collection of seventy-five thousand bulbs fit in his basement alone astounds me. Beyond that, Hicks' comment about reincarnation is pretty interesting in itself. I can't be the only person who's looked at people who died just before they were born and wondered if there was any significance. Jimmy Stewart died thirty days before I was born, and he's a pretty stiff guy...all jokes aside, you can't help but look at people who lived before your time and see some similarities. It's probably just the power of suggestion, like the mumbo jumbo about zodiac signs that applies to most people. That the man William Hammer, who collected over a hundred thousand light bulbs, died only a month before Hicks' birth is an amazing coincidence, if not a bit odd. Personally, I'd rather be the second coming of George Washington than the second coming of one of Thomas Edison's workers, but hey - to each his own.

The World This Week: Ebola

There's only one international issue in the headlines this week, but it seems everybody's talking about it. The recent outbreak of a strain of the Ebola virus spread to America through a Liberian national named Thomas Duncan, who passed away Wednesday morning. Duncan's case brought up a firestorm of controversy here in the states, primarily due to the way it was handled. Half the country, it seems, believes that more should have been done to help Duncan. The other half is appalled by the fact that he made it to American soil. In the past few days, President Obama and the US government have enforced screenings for signs of the virus, including such symptoms as fever, on all flights bound for America from the nations where the disease has taken hold. Some feel that this action is ultimately unnecessary, as victims of the virus can carry the disease in their system for several weeks before the disease begins to manifest itself. Others are shocked that such action wasn't taken sooner, citing Duncan as a prime example. And there are those that believe all US flights to and from the afflicted countries should be suspended until the epidemic runs its course. Many of Duncan's family members have been put into a form of house arrest, isolated from the general public until it can be said with certainty that they aren't carrying the disease. Some Americans feel that these actions are incredibly damaging to the people they impact. Others feel that the measures taken are necessary, though some of these individuals are angry that such measures had to be taken in the first place. Personally, I'm not sure where I stand on this issue. I don't want Ebola to get into the country again, but what can we do to stop it? I think Obama has the right idea here: we should be both reasonable and cautious. If someone shows symptoms, they should not be allowed entry into the US. If someone who's been exposed to someone who may have been in contact with the virus develops symptoms, they should be hospitalized immediately. We need to keep our eyes open and use common sense to deal with this problem. That's my opinion, and I'm sticking with it.

The Accidental Masterpiece: Effortless Art

In chapter four of The Accidental Masterpiece, Kimmelman delves into the ways in which people were able to create a form of art, as he put it in the chapter's title, "without lifting a finger." He starts up the chapter with the tale of Ray Johnson's strangely artful suicide, and the events that may have inspired Johnson's actions. Kimmelman's detailed analysis of Johnson's life and his style, combined with his attention to the artist's seemingly insignificant quirks and peculiarities, lends a lot of weight to his theory about Johnson's suicide: that he wanted to leave a lasting impact on the art world. In a way, Kimmelman seems to argue, Johnson's death was his most profound work of art. Beyond his discussion of Johnson's art, both in life and in death, Kimmelman discusses the fine, fluid line between art and life, and the ways in which the two intermingle. His point about people destroying and/or desecrating images of rulers they hated, naturally, caught my attention. It's interesting how things not intended as art - in this case, statues or images of leaders in an attempt to show their power - can inspire a reaction as fervent as this. The statues have, as Kimmelman puts it, an "aura," something he describes as being characteristic of art. To use his example, a statue of Lenin would be much more than a hunk of steel or bronze or stone. For the moment, it would become Lenin. It would be a symbol of Soviet authoritarianism and the lack of opportunity, and the people would tear it down. It's an interesting paradox, but undoubtable.

The Accidental Masterpiece: Perspective

In this third chapter of The Accidental Masterpiece, Kimmelman delved into the concept of perspective. In an excellent bit of writing, he blended his discussions of the physical perspective with those of the inner point of view throughout the chapter, juxtaposing mountain views with Duchamp's surprisingly well-received R. Mutt urinals on the very first page. Kimmelman's main point in the chapter was that each individual has their own unique perspective, which gives them the capacity to appreciate that which others may not. Paul Cezanne's appreciation for Montagne Sainte-Victoire, mentioned by Kimmelman in an anecdote to his own experience, serves as an excellent example of this theme. Cezanne painted Sainte-Victoire again and again and again, in different styles and from different vantage points around the mountain. Plenty of people would be unable to appreciate Cezanne's fascination with Sainte-Victoire, but there were many others who can appreciate his fascination and the work it inspired. One of the most profound points I took away from the chapter was that one person's opinion doesn't matter: somewhere in the world, there is someone with the opposite opinion. That's probably one of the only sure things in society. Humanity's extinction may not even be a given - we may very well develop the technology necessary to flee earth and establish ourselves throughout the galaxy and the wider universe. But that's irrelevant. What I'm getting is that, if one person doesn't like your art, or your style, or your technique, there will always be other people who will appreciate it. What one person thinks doesn't define your art. Or anything you do, for that matter.