memos

Sunday, July 26, 2009
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CIVILIZATION AND BARBARISM
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We are products of two contradictory fallacies: paternalism and tribalism, or the big lie that says, our elders and leaders know better even when they divide us. Anyone who is brought up to believe that, will believe anything, including the illusion that we are smart.
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Sooner or later all lies are exposed. This rule, too, like all rules, has its exception, namely, Armenian lies. Here are some more lies that have cost us much suffering and many lives but have since been exposed:
The Turks will not dare to massacre us because the Great Powers of the West are on our side and they will not allow it.
The Russians are our big brothers. If it weren't for them we would be annihilated by the Turks. (Result? 350,000 Armenian boys dead during World War II in defense of Stalin's regime. Number of Russians dead in defense of Armenia: zero.) To be noted: Armenians also died in defense of Hitler's regime. Their numbers, if published, is not known to me.
And the biggest lie of all: We are not Asiatic barbarians but civilized and westernized Christians. This, of course, in our own assessment of ourselves -- and when a fool assesses himself, he will go beyond smart, he will declare himself a genius.
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And now, let us rise from theory to practice (as our Marxist brothers were fond of saying) or from abstractions and speculations to hard facts and the world of real things.
“In February of 1992, during the capture of the city of Khojali, Azerbaijan, by Armenian separatists, more than 1,000 people, mostly women and children, were murdered. Armenian troops subsequently invaded Shushi in 1992 and attacked more than 927 libraries and 22 museums. The result: 4,600,000 books lost, including ancient philosophical and musical treatises, as well as 40,000 rare books.”
The author of these lines is Fernando Baez, director of Venezuela's National Library, a world authority on the history of libraries, and a member of the U.N. Committee investigating the destruction of libraries and museums.
For more on this subject, see: A UNIVERSAL HISTORY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF BOOKS: FROM ANCIENT SUMER TO MODERN IRAQ, by Fernando Baez. Translated by Alfred MacAdam (New York, 2008).
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Monday, July 27, 2009
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CONFESSIONS OF AN OUTCAST
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As a child I was not warned not to believe everything I was told. My father was too busy trying to provide for his family in time of war and starvation to be of any help. I made an ideal dupe and it didn't take much to convince me I was both smart and morally superior; and by the time I began to suspect I was neither, it was too late.
The trouble with liars is that they are seldom satisfied with a single lie. When they get away with a small lie, they come back with bigger lies, and as Hitler (who ought to know) once said, the bigger the lie, the more readily it is accepted as the truth.
My resentment grew when I understood I had been deceived not for my own good – to instill in me the self-confidence I needed to face an unfriendly world in an alien environment – but for their own: to gain my gratitude and loyalty.
I once overheard a member of our self-appointed elite who makes frequent appearances in our weeklies – one of those pompous and arrogant empty suits who rise to the top because they are expert brown-nosers – refer to Armenians in general as “assh*les” and sh*its” in the presence of lesser mortals who reacted with a chuckle of admiration at his daring wit. And like Moliere's “bourgeois gentilhomme” who didn't know he had been speaking prose (as opposed to verse) all his life, I had no choice but to conclude I had been an “assh*le” and a “sh*t” all my life and hadn't known it.
And the truth set me free.
I gave up recycling propaganda (of which I had already produced a vast amount), became an outcast and the target of verbal abuse by Armenians who hated me because they hated giving up their illusions even more.
In my efforts not to betray my country – or rather, the pathetic buffoons who pretended to be in charge of its destiny – I had betrayed myself and I would spend the rest of my life repenting that transgression.
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Tuesday, July 28, 2009
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CERTAINTIES & DOUBTS
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When I was young, brainwashed, and knew everything, I rejected any and all ideas that did not fit in my belief system. Now that I am old and I have a better appreciation of the depths of my own ignorance, my first reaction to a new idea is to welcome it.
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To say “I believe” is to think with the gut.
For everyone who thinks with his brain, there are two, sometimes even twenty-two, who think with their gut.
Likewise, for everyone who says “My country, right or wrong,” there will always be two, sometimes even twenty-two, who say “My country, right even when wrong!”
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Certainties may be comfortable, but they come with an expensive price-tag.
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To believe in one's own arguments is to say, “This is the beginning and end of the story,” about a story that has neither beginning nor end.
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At the root of all wars and massacres there are men of faith whose certainties outnumber their doubts.
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Belief systems are worse than jails because they imprison the mind rather than the body.
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Where dogmas clash, armies are sure to follow.
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Teach yourself to say, “I don't know,” “I am not sure,” “I have my doubts,” and “Maybe.” You will have fewer regrets. Remember, we owe fools and fanatics to certainties.
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Wednesday, July 29, 2009
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THREE MEMOS
TO MY GENTLE READERS
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1.
If I quote from an odar book and you don't like what you read, don't waste your time trying to convince me otherwise. Nobody gives a damn what I think or write, not even Armenians. Write instead to the author or his publisher. By making me change my mind, you will accomplish nothing.
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2.
To those who demand to be taken off my list: I have no idea which list you are referring to. If you don't want to read me, Block or Spam my messages. It shouldn't take more than a second or at most two. Even better, if you don't want to see my garbage, don't send me yours.
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3.
I have been called many things by my charming fellow Armenians – a mentally unhinged ignoramus, an enemy agent, a capitalist, a communist, a poet, and at least on one occasion, an intellectual, or rather, a pseudo-intellectual. For the record, I am none of these things. I am only a shit-disturber. Anyway, that's my story and I am sticking to it.
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