“The No-Nosense 4″ are:

Eddie Salmen on Trumpet
Harry Kuhner on Drums
Jürgen Pingitzer on Piano
Peter Strutzenberger on Contrabass

Harry Kuhner reads some of his great Jazz-Poems

11:30 a.m. Sunday July 6. 2008 at Wienerwald. Waehringerstrasse 85, 1180 Wien Tel.: 050 15 16 118

It was a very good summer for me in 1982. My career was taking off as a poet with a big New and Selected Poems just published and lots of performances. One prominent venue on Long Island, Guild Hall in fashionable East Hampton, scheduled me to perform and it was particularly gratifying as I would have so many friends and even some senior poets and mentors in the audience.
I had already lived on Long Island for a dozen years and the renown poet, David Ignatow, had taken me under his wing. By then, he was in all the anthologies, as often for the poem about chasing a bagel! He’d won awards and grants, but to me he complained, “Never the Pulitzer.” Other senior poets presided in the Hamptons-like Michael Braude, Simon Perchik, Kenneth Koch, Phil Appleman, H. R.Hayes, Amrand Schwerner, Richard Elman, Stanley Moss, Frank O’Hara, Harvey Shapiro. Even John Hall Wheelock elderly as he was, was still actively writing.
Guild Hall was well-attended the night of my solo performance. I don’t call myself a performance poet, but I am known for my repartee between poems-even some jokes and “shtick” that liven up my presentations. I was particularly on the mark-or so I thought-that evening. Certainly, the audience laughed, and as is always the measure, the laughs were “on cue”-with me, not at me!
It ended with some gratifying applause but even before I could make my way off stage I saw a flange of three poets aiming at me at. It was Dave Ignatow, Michael Braude and Si Perchik rushing me from the back of the hall. They were visibly agitated. Reaching me, surrounding me, they said, all but in unison, “How could you do that?”
“What did I do?” I asked, concerned I had crossed some unseen line of political correctness or propriety.
“You said all those Jewish things. You should never do that.” They were clearly horrified.

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The Man Who Said “Maybe”

He said a European flight
from Macedonia
took more time going
than returning
because the earth turned favorably.
Try to explain the world a single entity - earth
sky and sea -
he’d listen patiently.
Next time he’d mention
travel, his theory
of anti gravity
was there again
more steadfast than
Foucault’s pendulum.
If a helicopter
hovered over a city,
would the next city
come along eventually?”
“Maybe.”

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You could call Nat Hentoff,
the Dean of jazz critics.

I’ve already expressed my
admiration for him.

Nat has always been politically minded
and he certainly knows how to write
a political sentence,
as well as a sentence about music.

Nat is now “pro-life.”
He’s opposed to,
what some refer to
as murder before birth.

Abortion is not exactly
a desirable procedure,
but to quote the title
of an instrumental number
by Lester Young:
“I’m fer it!”
Or rather I’m for
keeping it legal.

If abortion is murder,
bringing unwanted children
into the world is murder double-fold.
Making abortion illegal
means bringing the knitting needle
into play again
and reviving the back street abortion.

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Ingrid Bergman left Hollywood to make Stromboli for Roberto Rosselini in 1949. Her intention was to leave Tinsel-Town glamour behind her to in order make neo-realistic European films. And Roberto’s manly appeal may have influenced her decision. Roberto had made Roma, Open City and Paisa, which are indeed stunning. Some film buffs love the films he made with Bergman. I think Stromboli was so-so, but that all the others were duds.

Twenty-five years later she starred in a film version of Friedrich Dürrenmatt’s The Visit directed by stickler Bernhard Wicki, which was a European production.

Wicki had died a thousand deaths when he filmed Morituri with Marlon Brando. Brando had moved Heaven and Earth to get Wicki on the set, but once he had him, he made Wicki regret that he had ever been born. And the result of Wicki’s tribulations was nothing to be proud of. Ditto for Ingrid.

In Dürrenmatt’s play, an unattractive, crippled old lady returns to her hometown as a wealthy, powerful revenge-seeker in order to bring about the lynching of the man who seduced and ruined her. However, in the film “the old lady” turns out to be younger, attractive and with limbs intact. Instead of having her quondam lover, the present mayor, done in, she relents and shows mercy.

Thus Bergman rewrote and “glamorized” one of the most significant and successful contemporary plays, riding roughshod over author and director. And Hollywood celebrated a triumph over realism, neo-realism, surrealism and what-have-you, albeit in Europe. And Bergman came back full swing to the spirit she had left behind in Tinsel Town.

Casablanca and Serendipity

I favor starting out with a concept and carrying through to the denouement. However, sometimes chance is a better method than any method.

Ingrid Bergman didn’t jell with Humphrey Bogart and ditto for him. Ingrid also she wasn’t enthralled by the making of Casablanca. The script was ad lib, and there was no ending prior to the end of filming the film. The ending, in which the lovers sacrifice their love for the cause, was tacked on at the last minute. (Later, after Ingrid “eloped” with Roberto Rossellini, there would practically be no script at all for the five films he directed for her. So in a way, Casablanca broke her in.) My view on those films dissents from that of many film buffs. I think serendipity didn’t work out very well for Roberto.

Who is Herman Hupfeld? He is the composer and lyricist for Down The Old Back Road, A Hut in Hoboken and the stellar Goopy Geer. He also wrote that Fats Waller favorite Let’s Put Out The Lights (And Go To Sleep). And the classic As Time Goes By also came from his pen. Here’s the story of how Time became associated with Casablanca, as related by Frank Miller, the authoir of the book Casablanca:

“As Time Goes By had been written in the ’20s and had enjoyed moderate success in a recording by Rudy Vallee. But it was the favorite song Murray Burnett, one of the co-authors of the play Everybody Goes to Rick’s. He used the song as the love them for Rick and the leading lady (in the play she’s named Lois). Nobody at Warner’s questioned the use of that song, since the studio owned the rights anyway. When the film had been shot and Max Steiner was ready to score it, he tried to get them to change the song, claiming that it was so musically uninteresting that he couldn’t work it into the score. He also may have wanted to write a new song for the film and possibly make a hit (as he had done with It Can’t Be Wrong, the song he wrote for now, voyager). Hal Wallis was ready to make the change, but it meant re-shooting some lines for Ingrid Bergman. And she had already cut her hair short for her role in For Whom the Bell Tolls. Unable to match up the shots, they had to stick with As Time Goes By, which became a bigger hit than ever as a result of its use in this film.”

Casablanca, in my view; is a pot boiler with nary a cliché missing. I’ve said that Michael Curtiz could get good juice out of bad oranges, and this juice is terrific. But Michael did get a little help from serendipity on this one. What if Ronald Reagan and Hedy Lamarr, who were first choice for the roles, had been the stars? And what if Ingrid had not had her hair cut?

At any rate, serendipity is responsible for the inclusion of As Time Goes By in Casablanca and it “dictated” much of Casablanca, and in this case the right decisions were made.

- Herbert Kuhner

Herbert Kuhner

Charlie came first and then came Buster. Charlie pratfell and caused pratfalls, and he battered around with the heavies. Charlie had a mean streak but Buster was gentle. The Looney Tunes cartoon characters carried on in the roughhouse manner. Buster was the earnest and sincere one, always trying and failing and falling till maybe the end. There were the beauties that, in spite of his bashfulness and awkwardness, would sense the pure heart that beat in his breast and thus Buster was rewarded. Yes, Buster was pure of heart with innocent charm, and he had a grace of movement that had a touch of gamin. And Buster just kept on trying and trying again. There was no bilking or cadging.

It was Buster who captivated me. But then I’m biased. Not that I wanted to be like Buster. I wanted to have a smooth ride, but due to my Buster qualities. I’ve always had a rough one.

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Buster. Not Keaten, but Padhi. Buster, who still lives in his films, is long gone now, but Padhi is here, and he’s Buster to me.

Padhi is an artist like Buster, but he’s not an actor or comedian. Padhi is one of the greatest, if the greatest artist producing today as far as I’m concerned. There may indeed be others with are similar to Padhi, but there couldn’t be another one quite like him. He’s an object artist, photographer, painter and collagist who is in harmony with his work. Padhi lives art. He’s as pure and innocent as Buster, and he does not compromise. He goes his way no matter how hard and painful it may be. Not that Padhi would not like to reap financial fruits, but he’s never stooped to pick them up if attaining them meant stooping. Producing art is more important to him than the monetary aspect. And he produces as well as he can without the benefits and accouterments that money brings. When Padhi works, he has art in mind, not the marketing or the dough or bread that comes from the marketing. For him, the art takes precedence over the marketing. And this is mildly put, since the art is created as art, and not merely as commodity to be sold.

Padhi has his finger on the pulse of time and he is able to convey the heartbeat to the materials he uses, be they objects, canvass, cardboard, camera or simply his voice.

Padhi is a foe of what he calls “mob art.” Mob art dons the disguise of modern art, but it is anything but that.

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Hans Weigel,
who was reputed to be
the dean of Austrian critics,
claimed that Uncle Sam
had committed “mortal sins”
in the music category.
Porter, Berlin and Kern
are named as the greatest sinners,
but the sinner of sinners,
according to Weigel,
was George Gershwin.
He calls Gershwin
“a second-hand syncopation profiteer.”

Hans, there’s a song I’d like to play for you.
It’s called The Gentleman Is a Dope.
I’m sorry you’re not around to hear it.

Weigel was off base,
but he got a little help
from tenor-man Bud Freeman,
who’s in another league.

Freeman concedes that Gershwin
“was a damn good composer,”
but adds,
“I don’t feel that he understood
a great deal about jazz.”

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Interview

Bronner: Dazu folgende Geschichte: Der Theaterkritiker Hans Weigel bekam von der Burgschauspielerin Käthe Dorsch anläßlich eines Verrisses die legendäre Watschn. Aus diesem Vorfall machte ich die Nummer “Hit me, Kate”. Eines Abends saß Franz Antel mit großem Gefolge in der “Marietta”. Just nach “Hit me, Kate” verließ er demonstrativ, inklusive Entourage, den Raum. Ich ging ihm nach und fragte ihn nach dem Grund für den plötzlichen Abgang. Antel murmelte, daß es geschmacklos wäre, für diesen Saujuden Partei zu ergreifen. Worauf ich ihm erklärte, daß er über den Weigel denken solle, was er wolle, nur “Saujude” sage in meinem Lokal keiner. Ich nannte ihn dafür einen “Alt Nazi”. Worauf er antwortete: “Ich bin Alt Nazi, und ich bin stolz darauf” Wenig später kam Paul Blaha, der Theaterkritiker vom “Bildtelegrafen”, dessen damaliger Chefredakteur Gerd Bacher war, und schrieb alles auf. Der Artikel ist jedoch nie erschienen.

profil: Wurden Sie bei Ihrer Tätigkeit für Radio und Fernsehen jemals zensuriert?

Bronner: Wenn mir später der hochrote Zilk, in seiner Funktion als Fernsehdirektor, Sachen rausgestrichen hat, hab ich den Generalintendanten Bacher angerufen. Und dann waren sie wieder drin.

Interview: Angelika Hager

The Buck as a One-Act Play and Short Feature Film

There’s a man who shot off his mouth for seven long years in Austria. There are others who have done it for longer, but not under the circumstances. The guy I’m talking about did it between 1938 and 1945. At the time Austria was not Austria, but “Ostmark.” So that makes a difference. By doing that at the time, he was, of course, unsurpassed. His name was Karl Bockerer. Regretfully Karl was not a real person. He is the hero of the play Der Bockerer by Ulrich Becker and Peter Preses. Bockerer is their only success. It is one of the most popular Austrian plays, but the playwrights couldn’t follow up.

During the time Austria’s incorporation in the Third Reich, Karl says everything that should be said. And he doesn’t whisper, he shouts. Imagine that! And he’s there at the end of the play to welcome the Russian liberators before the curtain comes down. Karl is a butcher who speaks his mind to the Nazi butchers. But somehow, due to his charm they don’t butcher him.

The play belongs to the category of what’s called “boulevard theater” in the German-speaking world. Translating the word is easy since boulevard = boulevard. But there is no translation for the term. A boulevard play is entertaining with plenty of laughs with no serious aspirations.

Anyway, the Austrian director Franz Antel filmed the play in 1981. That year the film received a prize at the Moscow Film Festival. It was followed up by three sequels. Becher and Preses couldn’t do the scripts since they are long dead.

Antel, at one time called Hans Weigel, an Austrian writer “a lousy Jew!” and added. “I was a Nazi and I’m proud of it!”

Here’s a quote by Weigel “Austrians have a reputation for being anti-Semitic, but I’m relatively popular….I never made the acquaintance of an anti-Semite.”

Apparently he forgot.

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Minister With a Past

The Minister of the Interior,
Trotzkist, Maoist
and Ho Chi Minh demonstrator
in his student days,
gave orders to the police
to break up a peaceful
pro-ecology demonstration
with the use of truncheons and dogs.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Vergessen können hält jung!

Minister mit Vergangenheit

Der Innenminister,
in seiner Studentenzeit,
Trotzkist, Maoist
und Ho Chi Minh-Demonstrant
gab der Polizei den Befehl,
eine friedliche ökologische
Demonstration aufzulösen
durch den Einsatz
von Schlagstöcken und Hunden.

Herbert Kuhner: from Liebe zu Österreich/Love of Austria Verlag Der Apfel

The translations are impressive (poems by Johannes Urzidil). I would like to express my undivided admiration for Herbert Kuhner. He has remained true to the originals and has at the same time brought them into the new world.
- Gertrude Urzidil

Herbert Kuhner has been the ideal foreign ambassador (at the Edinburgh Festival), reading his translations of modern European women (from Austria) and from minority European cultures (Burgenland Croatian & Carinthian Slovenian), but we haven’t heard enough of his own powerful poetry. His arm may be twisted.
- Joy Hendry, The Scotsman

Literarily speaking, If the Walls Between Us Were Made of Glass: Austrian Jewish Poetry (translated by Herbert Kuhner) is one of the most interesting poetry anthologies I have encountered.
- Konstantin Kaiser, Die Presse, Aufbau

by Peter Demetz; Peter Demetz teaches German and comparative literature at Yale University. Published: August 18, 1985

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Black gold is the rub.
Paul Wolfowitz: “…we just had no choice in Iraq.
The country swims on a sea of oil.”

Yes, Wolfy, it’s blood for oil. But it’s no skin off your ass,
is it?

“When Vice President Nelson Rockefeller, supported by (President) Ford,  pushed a plan to have government help develop alternative sources of energy and reduce our dependence on oil and Saudi Arabia, guess who helped scotch it? Dick Cheney. Then and now, the man is a menace.”

We need oil to fill the coffers of our men at the top.
White House Joins Fight Against Electric Cars:
The Bush administration went to court today
to support the automobile industry’s effort to eliminate requirements
in California that auto manufacturers sell electric cars.

Ted Koppel presents the nub!
“Washington’s greatest gift to the Iranians lies next door in Iraq.
By removing Saddam Hussein, the United States endowed
the majority Shiites with real power,
while simultaneously tearing down the wall
that had kept Iran in check.”

“Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy,
or that anyone who embarks on that strange voyage
can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter.
The statesman who yields to war fever must realize
that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master
of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events.”
- Winston Churchill

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May 21st - June 16th 2008-05-21
Galerie Suppan * Contemporary
Habsburgergasse 5, 1010 Vienna
Mo.-Fri. 10-18 * Sat. 10-12: 30

Tel. +43 1 535 535 4
info@suppancontemporary.com
www.suppancontemporary.com

Florentina Pakosta

The subject of Florentina Pakosta’s paintings is often the common man. He turns up in oils, dull and blunt in earthen and mud colors with touches of ochre, as well as in graphics. Sometimes he’s depicted singly and sometimes in crowds. When he appears in company, he usually appears in his own company, in other words in a series in which all faces are alike.

Pakosta grew up in a small house in a low-income section of Vienna, which borders on an artery of the Danube. Now the houses, shops and Gasthauses of the neighborhood have been swallowed up by high-rise apartment houses, chain stores, fast food restaurants and a giant shopping mall.

Pakosta still resides in the house of her childhood, which is backed by a long narrow garden. She has only recently had the pock marks made by Russian bullets filled in and painted white.

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After the Times of New York took on that eloquent conservative pundit Bill Cristol, CNN, not to be outdone, invited babe in the woods Tony Snow and tough gal Laura Ingraham onto their sacred secular.

Unfortunately, George W.’s former veracious mouthpiece did not heed Bill O’Reilly’s candid warning: “I mean, that’s the devil over there….You can’t go into the pagan throne over there.”

Here’s Snow pooh-poohing Darwin: “The evolutionary theory, like ID (intelligent design), isn’t verifiable or testable. It’s pure hypothesis.”

And Laura expounds on elite Americans: “They think our patriotism is stupid. They think our churchgoing is stupid. They think having more than two children is stupid…. They think owning a gun is stupid. They think our abiding belief in the goodness of America and its founding principles is stupid.”

Yes, ladies and gents, God is coming to atheistic CNN. Make no bones about it, these two stalwart promoters of Christian principles are going to tirade some good old time religion to CNN’s cynical atheists and their cynical atheistic listeners!

Newscasters

I wondered about the decline in announcers. I thought that it was just part of the deterioration that is occurring in giant strides on all fronts. But there seems to be method to it. A BBC man in Vienna explained it this way: Previously newscasters talked down to you, but now they talk directly to you.

The announcers of yore spoke mellifluous English of either the British or American variety. They had information to convey to you, their descriptions had a literary quality and they brought a warm sense of humor into play. And God knows, humor is needed to make this war-torn world bearable!

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Fox News stands for objective reporting and integrity. What’s more is the conscience of the nation. Fox is a fighter against liberalism and libertinism. Foxmen advocate conservative and family values and they favor the omnipresence of the Deity in all walks of life. But this does not mean that Fox is straight-laced. Fox is open-minded and does not wear blinders. The conservative approach does not entail the shunning of fad and fashion. Conservatism can have fun as well as being ethical.

To Shave or Not to Shave
Epping Forest vs. the Billiard Ball

FOX Sexpert: Yvonne K. Fulbright, May 2, 2008 FoxNews

Looking like a child, especially a little girl, has become a sticking point for advocates on both sides of the shave-or-not-to-shave debate, with feminists like Eve Ensler of the “Vagina Monologues” and Dr. Betty Dodson, of the educational video “Viva la Vulva: Women’s Sex Organs Revealed,” reminding audiences that to be a mature, sexual adult is to take pride in every part of your body, hair included.
Reasons to Sport Hair
- Looking untamed brings out the wild animal in you and your lover.
- You both love it and make no apologies for embracing your natural state of being.
- You think having hair is a sign that you are sexually mature.
- Hair captures our enticing scents.
- Your hair-down-there is believed to retain and disseminate musky pheromones, substances the body emits as a sexual attractant that drives your lover crazy. In fact, Napoleon Bonaparte was so in love with a woman’s natural scent, he was said to ask Josephine to avoid bathing for two full weeks before his return from military missions.
- Experts believe that hair has a biological purpose, acting as a barrier to bacteria and viruses and reducing friction during sex. Proponents for going “au naturel” will be the first to remind you that before there was underwear, hair was a necessity in keeping dirt and germs away from the genitals.
- You don’t have the time, or the money for that matter, for upkeep. For most people, being hairless requires work! You have no desire to make it a hobby.
- You love your body just the way it is.
Reasons to Go Bare
- You find the smooth, silky look sexy.
- You like the way it makes you feel - less hair can up the ante as far as erotic sensations go, with your skin more sensitive and exposed. Plus, you feel “cleaner” and freer in your skin and in the sack.
- You want easier access. Enough said.
- You’re after increased pleasure, whether that be in your clothes or under the sheets.
- You enjoy the occasional trip to a nude beach and would feel more comfortable hairless.
- You’ve had a recent run-in with a parasite, and going hairless is part of your eviction notice.
- Less hair helps you to feel drier and fresher in hot weather.
- You think that going hairless will make you more sexually confident and attractive.
- Fur is out and that means on you too.

Yes, ladies, get that razor out! The plucked chicken look is au courant !

Fox News is not only on the RIGHT, Fox News is always RIGHT!

The powers-that-be prefer to let things ride,
until the blister breaks and something has to be done.
Riding is invariably comfortable - as well as being profitable.

The revisionists help perpetuate “cruelty in the name of art” by superficially “opposing” it. Sophistry and syllogism are the gambits the proponents of Violence Under the Guise of Art use to daub anyone, who critical of such proceedings, with a brown brush.

Herbert Kuhner
Consoling Art Dealers and Consumers

The intoxication created by the blood and the ripping apart of raw flesh should be satisfying and enjoyable as it relieves man of his suppressed desires….Killing was, and is, beyond all moral judgments.  If possible I would prefer to work with human beings, with dead human beings, with corpses to be specific.  I could well envision that murder could be a component of a work of art; the artist’s accountability would have a another status….Thus, art can consist of a crime.
- Hermann Nitsch

Blasphemy, obscenity, charlatanism, sadistic excesses, orgies, the aesthetics of the cesspool are our moral means.  Everything is worthy of presentation….That includes rape and murder.  Coitus, torture and the annihilation of man and beast is the only drama worth viewing…..Murder is an integral part of sex. House pets have to serve as surrogates. I intend to commit the perfect murder on a goat that will serve as a substitute for a woman.  In my next films humans will be slaughtered. Slaughtering humans must not continue to be a monopoly of the state. It will soon become an ethical necessity to rob banks and to shoot a random cripple down.
- Otto Mühl

Art dealers and consumers fear that if violence in the arts should include the most violent act, their commodities would be devaluated. Let me assuage their fears! If an artist had committed the most extreme crime as an integral part of his art, his prices would not drop - they would fly sky high.

To prove the point, after one of Austria’s foremost artists was convicted of rape, the sexual abuse of minors and forcing women to undergo abortions,   the prices of his paintings continued their upward swing.

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God, who directs the destiny of nations and controls the hearts of Kings, has given us Ante Pavelic* and moved the leader of a friendly and allied people, Adolf Hitler, to use his victorious troops to disperse our oppressors… Glory be to God, our gratitude to Adolf Hitler and loyalty to our Poglavnik, Ante Pavelic.
- Saint Cardinal Alojzije Stepinac, Archbishop of Zagreb (1898-1960)

*Ante Pavelic, Ustascha Head of State in Croatia and mass murderer. Pavelic was given sanctuary by the Vatican after World War II and transferred by the Vatican Rat Line to safety in Spain.

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sports and politics
they say
are two different things
they say
referring to the dark years
of murder and death
in the past

they were fellow travelers
they say
nazis
and knew what was going on
and bore responsibility for it
they say
referring to the past

sports and politics
they say
are two different things
they say
and mean murder and death
today
in tibet

-translated from the German
by Herbert Kuhner

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My friend Jozo has left us for the Universe.

I first met him when I attended the Struga Evenings Poetry Festival in 1972. I last saw him at that venue in 1982. We kept in touch after that. I didn’t think I’d never see him again. God, how I miss him! He was a character in every sense of the word. I’m sure that no one who ever met him forgot him. Here’s what I wrote about him: “Jozo Boskovski’s poems are warm and mellow. The Macedonian sun shines on them. His lines flow in the eternal river of poetry. But he doesn’t let himself be carried by the current - or any current. He writes with an ease that comes from an innate sense of rhythm and form. Boskovski has a deep, powerful voice that carries beautifully. His poems are imbued with the resonance of his speech organ. They not only read well on the page, but they are effective when recited.”

Here’s a poem by Jozo in my translation and a poem about Jozo by our mutual friend David Axelrod. Yes, he was like that, but how can I say what I want to say? Jozo was pure gold. Goodbye, my dear friend!

- Herbert Kuhner

The Crocus

Jozo T. Boskovski

The crocus is nature’s first flower
(The crocus is white or yellow)
The crocus grows with a flame
at its tip
and warms the year
The winter snows
and the dilemma of time
take flight from this flower
The game begins with the bud
The earth inhales
and with one breath
everything is fertilized
and birth begins
and there is joy
The crocus hails the year
The game always repeats itself

The Man Who Said “Maybe”

David Axelrod

He said a European trip
took more time going
than returning
because the earth turned favorably.
Try to explain the world a single entity - earth
sky and sea - he’d
listen patiently.
Next time he’d mention
travel, his theory
of anti gravity
was there again
more steadfast than
Galileo’s pendulum.
If a helicopter
hovered over a city,
would the next city
come along eventually?”
“Maybe.”

Ah yes, the Lefties! It took quite a while for them to face up to Stalin’s deeds. In the Thirties, there were purges, the show trials and the execution of the fellow revolutionaries, the general staff and anyone who happened to fall victim to the benevolent dictator’s whims and moods. The Lefties gulped it up with nary a burp or a gasp.

In the Spanish Civil War, as the Franco Fascists were pushing the Loyalists back, the Stalinist Faction rushed to cancel out other Leftist Factions before the final collapse. When Hitler invaded Poland, they said Stalin wisely stood by and bided his time. And when the Hun eased into France, the French comrades sat on their hands and said “What a shame!” They didn’t make a move until June of ‘41 when Stalin’s former friend and ally Adolf caught him unawares. That’s when word from Moscow came and resistance started. It’s all in Sartre’s The Roads of Liberty.

Excuse after excuse was posited. Some things just had to be, and good reasons were continuously concocted. The traitors were Orwell and Koestler. They were the Luthers who presented heretical views.

Finally, after decades, the truth could no longer be hedged, except for a few diehards. If you look hard enough, you can still find a couple of those here and there.

What does this all go to show?

Religion without God
can be just as abominable
as religion with God.

Mission in Propaganda

Mission to Moscow was Michael Curtiz’ follow-up to Casablanca in 1943, with another script by Howard Koch. This non-masterpiece was made at the request of F. D. R. Curtiz was renowned as a cynic, and maybe that’s his excuse. What the hell, if the president says do it, who was Curtiz to quibble?

Our ally of the time Josef Stalin is not only made palatable, he is presented as a man to admire. The show trials of Stalin’s fellow revolutionaries in the film are legitimate legal procedures, in which all confess to being Trotskyite traitors in the pay of Nazi Germany. And these blackguards get their just deserts, which conveniently occur off celluloid.

The Allies needed the manpower of the Soviet Union to defeat Nazi Germany.
Was Mission made to butter the dictator up? Did Stalin need such cajoling in order to fight on? And what was the purpose of presenting such fabrications to film theater audiences of the time?

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