Dwarf-Throwing & the Threat of World Government

Here's why I'm against the UN. This just in from Geneva, Switzerland, via the Reuters wire: "U.N. upholds French ban on 'dwarf throwing'." It turns out that a diminutive stuntman who had protested against a French ban on the practice of "dwarf-throwing" has lost his case before some sort of UN judiciary body. The tribunal issued some typically pious UN claptrap about the need to protect human dignity being paramount.

The dwarf, a fellow called Manuel Wackenheim, argued that a 1995 ban by France's highest administrative court was discriminatory and deprived him of a job being tossed around discos and similar venues.

The UN Human Rights Committee said it was satisfied "the ban on dwarf-tossing was not abusive but necessary in order to protect public order, including considerations of human dignity." It also said the ban "did not amount to prohibited discrimination."

Soon Iceland will be the only venue. No doubt a UN embargo will then ensue, with draconian sanctions, appointment of inspector/spies, followed by the inevitable intervention and occupation.

So here's a bunch of UN administrators, each of them probably hauling down an annual salary hefty enough to keep a troupe of dwarfs in caviar for life, dooming poor little Wackenheim to the unemployment lines, before going home to scream at their underpaid Romanian maidservants or to get a blowjob from a 13-year-old girl from Kiev in the local whorehouse. (UN guys would do that, you ask? Oh yes they would?remember the nasty little sex scandal about UN observers in Kosovo?)

In the old days dwarfs could stand proud, strutting down the boulevards, around circus rings, or forming part of some amusing display, or pitting themselves against bulldogs (a 19th-century English pastime popular among the sporting crowd). I can remember plenty of dwarfs from my childhood in Ireland, along with other bodies remote from conventional anatomy. Walking down the main street of any Irish town reminded one of Breughel. Not anymore. I guess even in Catholic Ireland the doc takes a look and chokes nature's sports before they've got out of the starting gate.

If the UN had been around at the time, the hunchbacks of Philip IV of Spain would have been forbidden from posing for Velazquez, and Jeffrey Hudson (18 inches at the age of nine, albeit gracefully proportioned) would never have been permitted to step out of a pie on the dining room table of his boss, George Villiers, the first duke of Buckingham. Having emerged from the pastry, Hudson saluted Villiers' guests, King Charles I and his queen, Henrietta Maria, who promptly adopted him.

Spared a UN-sponsored abortion to save him from an existence incompatible with human dignity, Hudson led an adventurous life and survived two duels, one against a turkey cock and the other in mortal combat with a certain Mr. Crofts. The arrogant Crofts turned up for the duel with a water pistol, but Hudson stood on his dignity and insisted that the engagement be for real. They put Hudson on a horse to get him level with Crofts and he promptly shot the man dead. Captured by Turkish pirates, he said his tribulations made him grow, and having held steady at 18 inches from nine to 30, he shot up to 3-foot-9.

Another dwarf, Charles Stratton (aka General Tom Thumb) killed one of my favorite painters, Benjamin Haydon, who was exhibiting his vast work, The Banishment of Aristides, in the Egyptian Hall in London. But the crowds preferred to gawp at General Thumb, on display next door. Thumb drew £600 sterling in his first week, while Haydon got only a measly 7 pounds, 13 shillings. Haydon shortly thereafter went off home to his studio and killed himself.

Dwarf-tossing? The job came with the stature. William Beckford, the eccentric millionaire who wrote Vathek and built the famous folly at Fonthill, was one of the last to have a dwarf in private service, though E.J. Woods, author of the valuable Giants and Dwarfs (1860), says Beckford's dwarf was "rather too big to be flung from one gurst to another, as was the custom at dinners in earlier days."

The "Ark Of Hope"

As the repellent harbinger of world guv'mint, the UN holds scant allure. Its kangaroo tribunal, the Inter- national Criminal Court (rightly denounced by the Bush administration), bears all the same features as the International Criminal Tribunals on Yugoslavia and Rwanda (heartily endorsed by the Bush administration). To quote a fine, recent piece on the CounterPunch site by George Szamuely, addressing U.S. hypocrisy on this issue, "The prosecutor is out of control. Prosecutor and court are one and the same. Appellate court and trial court are also one and the same. The court is answerable to no one. There is no jury. Prosecutors may appeal an acquittal and insist on continued detention of a defendant."

Perhaps the most grotesque recent display of UN kulchur at full stretch was the carrying of the "Ark of Hope," containing the Earth Charter, from the U.S. to the Earth Summit in Johannesburg last month. This same charter is the hellspawn of Steven C. Rockefeller and Mikhail Gorbachev, who has said of it, "My hope is that this charter will be a kind of Ten Commandments, a Sermon on the Mount, that provides a guide for human behavior toward the environment in the next century and beyond."

The portage of the Charter at the end of last year began at an Earth Ceremony in Vermont, where Rockefeller (chairman of the Rockefeller Brothers Fund and the Earth Charter International Drafting Committee) is professor emeritus of religion at Middlebury College. Present was Jane Goodall, of chimpanzee fame, one of whose fingertips was once nipped off by a chimp standing on its dignity when Goodall tried to shake hands with it at a facility using chimps for medical experiments, including AIDS drugs.

The Charter, which finally puffed in in time for last month's Earth Summit, is housed and transported in the cheesy Ark of Hope, furiously described on the New American website as "a blasphemous mimicry of the biblical Ark of the Covenant, which held the two tablets containing the Ten Commandments that God gave to Moses... Accompanying the Charter and the Ark are the "Temenos Books," containing aboriginal Earth masks and 'visual prayers/affirmations for global healing, peace, and gratitude,' created by 3000 artists, teachers, students and mystics."

According to the Charter, we must: "Recognize that all beings are interdependent and every form of life has value..." (except of course for fetuses, which are not included in the UN's definition of "every form of life," merely disposable protoplasm). There's the predictable affirmation of faith in the "inherent dignity of all human beings," excluding those who are finished off by euthanasia or hauled before the ICC or required to give blowjobs or clean the bathrooms of overpaid UN bureaucrats.

Now comes the jackboot: The Earth must "adopt at all levels sustainable development plans and regulations? Prevent pollution of any part of the environment? Internalize the full environmental and social costs of goods and services in the selling price? Ensure universal access to health care that fosters reproductive health and responsible reproduction." In other words, population control, as promoted through the century by the Rockefellers, who of course assigned the Manhattan real estate to the UN for its h.q.

Edwina & John, Tony & George

T he London rally on Sept. 28 against any attack on Iraq was huge. The police and the Murdoch-owned London Sunday Times put the crowd at 150,000. The Independent reported "between 150,000 and 350,000." The rally's organizers reckoned more than 250,000, and the Guardian reckoned "up to 400,000."

Was there any interest in the U.S. press at the level of opposition to Tony Blair's embrace of Bush's war bluster? Not much. Apropos the turnout The Washington Post mumbled about "tens of thousands." The New York Times? We couldn't find any Times coverage on the protests, on Lexis-Nexis or the Times website.

One thing observers of the rally did note was that it was as big as the turnout the previous weekend for a demonstration in favor of the British countryside (which, back in the 15th century, had many agreeable features). Squires from the shires bring U.S. news editors leaping out their chairs. The major papers had no problem with numbers. The Washington Post excitedly reported "300,000," and The New York Times echoed the Guardian, with an estimate of 400,000.

One speaker at the London peace rally was the Scottish MP George Galloway, a man who shares with the journalist Robert Fisk the distinction of being on the actor John Malkovich's short list of the two people he'd most like to kill. Malkovich imparted this ambition at an event of the Cambridge Union, apparently because he's impatient with critics of Israel.

Galloway alluded to the news convulsing Britain?that former British MP Edwina Currie had seduced Conservative PM John Major and conducted a torrid affair with him. The graceless Major failed to reward her with a cabinet job, and now Currie, who these days has found honest employment writing dirty books, has paid him back by publishing her memoirs, telling all and scanting no details, however tawdry.

"The most repulsive image confronting us in these times," Galloway thundered to the vast throng, according to my earwitness, "is not that of Edwina and John making the beast wi' twa backs in Number 10. No, my friends, it's the news, divulged to us by their spokesmen, that George Bush and Tony Blair went down on their knees and prayed together."