Update: Here’s a link to a somewhat more concise review I did for Goodreads. 

One of the most common critiques of contemporary American society, and Western culture more broadly, is its purported enthrallment to the opiate of celebrity. The notion that ordinary Americans are so dumbfounded by popular entertainment that they can’t understand linear, logical thought, let alone come up with workable solutions to complex problems which require such understanding, is not new. The late Neil Postman wrote an entire book exploring the damage wrought by modern communication techniques-namely, television and advertising-to the process of information-gathering, and by extension, rational argument and inquiry. However, even Henry David Thoreau-who lived before radio had attenuated the attention spans of humans weaned on the printed word-lamented the prospect of instantaneous communication.

Even so, you can’t properly understand the term celebrity until you’ve looked at a totalitarian state which is dominated not so much by an ideological impulse or dogma as by a cult of personality. That’s why the book written by celebrity ghostwriter Michael Malice-seen above in his dashing North Korean suit-about the late despot Kim Jong-il serves as an invaluable resource.  Dear Reader: The Unauthorized Autobiography of Kim Jong Il-gives a western audience the rare opportunity to peer into the mind of someone who stood at the apex of a regime in which there was only one family and one person who was to be celebrated-upon pain of imprisonment, torture, and death. 

The unique nature of the North Korean state lies not so much in its depraved sadism-although it’s difficult to argue that it doesn’t equal or exceed even the most barbarous governments on the planet in this regard-but in the fact that it has managed to extirpate any public expression of individuality. Not only has the Kim dynasty suppressed any and all political dissent for the better part of seven decades, it has succeeded in effacing the personality of 24 million Koreans. In the tropical gulag that is Cuba you will find exuberantly defiant bloggers standing up to the Castro brothers tyranny. In the despotic theocracy that is the Islamic Republic of Iran, you will find courageous resistance to the Khomenist regime and first-hand accounts of what it’s like to be incarcerated in the notorious Evin Prison.

You won’t find internal dissidents in the DPRK, because to all intents and purposes, they do not exist. To dissent is to sign your own death warrant-not only for yourself, but for three generations of your family. You won’t hear the conditions inside of kwan-li-so described, because-with a few exceptions-no one leaves these concentration camps alive, and the only way outsiders are able to view them is through satellite photographs.

The brilliance of Dear Reader is its ability to convey these horrific truths in a way which compels the reader to look at North Korea in all its unvarnished brutality. At first glance, the concept of writing a book about an ongoing holocaust which relies upon humor to any extent is controversial, if not revolting. One of the reasons that a film like Goodbye Lenin can be enjoyed by ordinary people is because they recognize that it satirizes ugly crimes perpetrated by a regime which is safely immured in the past, and which will in all likelihood never be resurrected. The atrocities being committed in the DPRK, on the other hand, show no sign of abating.

The truth is that this book is suffused with humor, but not the type of humor that most people associate with Kim Jong-il or Kim Jong-un. It’s not designed to focus on the trivial manifestations of their well-cultivated international image of eccentricity, e.g. the goodwill tour by washed-up  NBA power forward/media spectacle Dennis Rodman. It’s used as a means of illustrating a lethally serious point. Namely, that this ruling clique has successfully employed an architecture of myth-based upon fear, ignorance, anger, and the desire for vengeance-in order to not only immiserate the Koreans under their rule materially, but to also impoverish their spirit and their souls.

One of the ways the author makes this viscerally disturbing narrative digestible is by contextualizing the Kim dynasty. People today can’t comprehend how a state created out of the spoils of World War II, a vestige of the Cold War conflict between the United States and USSR, became a singularly isolated and defiant  national socialist, i.e. fascist, regime predicated upon the worship of a single individual and intense, multigenerational racialism.

He does this in a number of ways, most interestingly perhaps by humanizing his subject, i.e. one of the most loathsome dictators of the past half-century. As off-putting as this might seem to the uninitiated, it’s a surprisingly effective means of explaining how and why the North Korean state exists, in spite of an increasingly porous web of information control. Taking traditional biographical tropes about family life and adolescent angst and transposing them into a story about Southeast Asia’s most iconic despot is an unconventional technique, but ultimately a successful one. A particularly affecting anecdote involves a young Kim Jong-il guarding the study of his father, Kim il-Sung, as he sleeps. Oddly moving, it serves as a metaphor for his guardianship of his dad’s legacy, even at the cost of the enforced starvation of over a million of his countrymen.

This highlights another aspect of North Korea’s unique regime, which is later revealed explicitly by Kim himself, when he admits that his advisors are not chosen because of any technical competence or foresight they may display, but because of their intense loyalty to Kim il-Sung, i.e. Kim Jong-il, thought. The consequent economic, social, and environmental disasters that resulted from this leadership method are, naturally, a necessary evil for preserving the sanctity of the true Korean state in the eyes of the Dear Leader.

Malice makes the sclerotic nature of this system comprehensible, which might come as a surprise to many of us who have been repeatedly told that there is no rhyme or reason to the actions taken by the DPRK’s leadership. In fact, there was a brutal internal logic and rationality to the actions of Kim Jong il, from extolling a juche philosophy that seemingly prized autarky-even while living parasitically off the extorted handouts from hostile neighbors and the United States-to an incomplete series of garish monuments exalting the only family to have ruled North Korea since its creation.

Therefore, the Agreed Framework between the United States and the DPRK was not a shameful capitulation, but a necessary expedient to preserve the Juche ideal, while also debasing both a former and current President of the United States. True to the promise on Dear Reader’s book jacket, this part is 100 percent “true,” as a perusal of Bill Clinton’s letter to Kim Jong-il at the time demonstrates. The bellicose rhetoric emanating from North Korea is not the rantings of a paranoid lunatic, but Songun diplomacy, which, regardless of its dubious morality, was extraordinarily efficacious. Kim’s explanation of an humanitarian aid package accepted five years later illustrates why:

After much grandstanding and hyperbole, the American and Korean negotiators reached a compromise. The Americans claimed that they were neither rewarding me nor condoning my violent rhetoric. That is absolutely true. They didn’t “reward” me or “condone” my rhetoric. On the other hand, they did financially compensate me because of my aggression. 

Accepting charity from the Yank devils was not a repudiation of the principles undergirding his very regime, but a brilliant strategic maneuver. And it wasn’t charity but reparations for the harm inflicted upon the DPRK for decades by the American imperialists.

This didn’t contradict the Juche principle of self-reliance one bit. I didn’t look at the package as aid so much as the repayment of a debt. The US imperialists had been threatening Korea for decades. It was entirely their fault that I’d had to expend such enormous sums on the military. 

Even actions that seem completely inscrutable to outside observers, e.g. the North Korean government’s evident pride in being lavished with praise by equally dysfunctional nation-states like the West African, Marxist backwater Burkina Faso or the South Asian dumpster fire that is Pakistan, become explicable once you understand them from the perspective of the man pulling the strings. As absurd as having Mali as one of your strategic partners might seem to us, it serves the interests of the Kim regime. Just like its arsenal of ballistic missiles and nuclear weapons, the International Friendship Museum is intended for domestic consumption, not for our benefit.

If there’s one thing to take away from Dear Reader, it’s that there is a calculated reason for every decision made at the upper echelons of power within North Korea. As Kim Jong-il avers himself, he was “no buffoon,” and his actions-however clownish they may have seemed to foreigners-had deadly consequences which were methodically plotted out beforehand. This is a book worth reading, if only because it illuminates the dark corners of a society whose people have suffered for too long in the shadows of their loving parents.

The purpose of  last Wednesday’s events, like the marches and rallies staged on Cinco de Mayo, was to pressure elected officials in Washington D.C. into repeating the same disastrous mistakes of the past. In this case, a wholesale amnesty which would cost upwards of six trillion dollars in the coming decades. While most of the people gathered in Union Square were open borders advocates of one sort or another, there was a spirited contingent of counter-protestors from New Yorkers for Immigration Control and Enforcement, a.k.a. NY ICE, whom I’ll get to in due time.

There were several journalists eager to cover the pro-legalization marchers, including a reporter-and I use that term advisedly-from the New York City affiliate of Noticias Mundo, a Spanish-language collaboration between Colombian channel RCN and cheap labor enthusiast Rupert Murdorch’s chief American asset, Newscorp.

And while there were many people agitated over the immigration-and the various proposals floating around Congress that purport to address the subject-as with any reasonably large demonstration spearheaded by the left, mission creep was evident from the beginning. The issue sprawl ranged all the way from global concerns, such as the controversial Trans-Pacific Partnership…

…to more localized grievances, such as the cascading effects of the U.S. Postal Service’s insolvency, as well as the recently resolved school bus strike in the City.

The parlous state of our city’s public education system was also addressed-in both English and Spanish.

And of course, plenty of protesters blamed the dreaded process of sequestration-whose impact verges on the apocalyptic according to some analysts-for the plight of specific ethnic groups and economic classes.

The Sequester Game was an attempt to inject some levity into an otherwise earnest day of political sloganeering and ideological indoctrination.

One that drew upon traditional May Day tropes, such as this Maypole inscribed with exhortations to pursue various political projects of concern to the left. Although traditionally viewed as a festival heralding the arrival of spring, it is now an occasion which has been colonized by  those with a Marxist interpretation of history.

The top of the pole was graced by a papier-mâché babushka bearing a placard with a statement just as  ambiguous as her facial expression. 

I saw a few familiar faces in the crowd, including the attractive young rollerblader who played the part of  a money bunny at an Occupy Wall Street rally held in Bryant Park last year. Rather than targeting her ire at Herr Bloomberg-whose last term is mercifully drawing to a close-she took aim at some of the investment banks which have balanced their ledger sheet by feeding at the public trough. One of the most conspicuous offenders in this regard, CEO of JP Morgan Chase Jamie Dimon, is depicted in the effigy seen above. A man who not only benefits from outright wealth transfers from American taxpayers, but also regulatory structures that inhibit competition. Pretty much the antithesis of capitalism, as it’s correctly understand.

One group that continues to loosely align itself with OWS is Anonymous.

If nothing else, the market for Guy Fawkes masks remains robust.

Although I’m not sure wearing them while manning literature tables is their intended usage.

Speaking of literature booths, there were a lot of them in Union Square Park, including those run by Marx’s bête noire, i.e. anarchists.

They had a variety of pamphlets, including one exploring the concept of jury nullification.

Socialism today, socialism tomorrow, socialism…well, you get the picture.

The alternative to what? Prosperity and freedom, perhaps. Unfortunately, socialism and/or corporatism is the default economic setting for much of the world today, with a few notable exceptions.

The apex of socialism, of course, can be found in the proposition that the state exercises final authority over  its subjects’ bodies. Notwithstanding the fact that the lawmakers who crafted Obamacare are already fleeing from its consequences, there are still millions of people willing to go further down the rabbit hole of wholly socialized medicine.

I’m sure among those can be counted the Trotskyists who were gathered in Union Square.

As well as the small coterie of Bolsheviks I found as I made my way through the police barricades erected in anticipation of this event.

The woman wearing the strange, black and green biohazard cap was apparently in charge of this group, although to what purpose its members were being put is beyond my ken.

What I did glean from my encounter with the useful idiots-who weren’t so useful in this case-was that they had a problem being photographed.  I discovered this after having a conversation with the Don Pedro fan seen in the picture above. The idea that anyone would express a natural curiosity in people wandering around Manhattan wearing t-shirts extolling an ideology that has murdered between 50 and 100 million people, and deprived tens of millions more of their liberty, never seemed to cross their minds, such as they are.

Patiently explaining my purpose merely seemed to heighten his anxiety, especially after I gave him my business card and told him the name of this website. This is a brief recapitulation of our exchange:

Communist: American Rattlesnake? I don’t know if I like that name.

Me: Why are you disturbed by the name?

Communist: Because most of the time…that rattlesnake thing is for reactionaries and fascists who wave the American flag!

Me: Like the Latino family standing next to the George Washington statue? 

Communist: That’s different! 

Me: How so? 

Communist: Mmm…

(Followed by a minute of so of silence and a stupefyingly dull facial expression.)

I can’t say that I expected a more welcome reaction from the dozen or so emissaries of Bob Avakian, the founder and head of a bizarre personality cult called the Revolutionary Communist Party.

If the Shepard Fairey-like silkscreened t-shirts bearing Avakian’s youthful visage aren’t enough to set off alarm bells, a brief excursion to the RCP’s website-which gives North Korean propaganda a run for its money in the weirdness department-should be enough to persuade you that these people are certifiably insane.

One of the recurring mantras of the Avakian supplicants is that the “real revolution” is imminent, and that you should get with it immediately.

Or entrale a la verdadera revolucion, if you prefer. In either case, it’s redolent more of a Marshall Applewhite-led Heaven’s Gate initiation than scientific socialism.

Nevertheless, the declamation of  revolutionary Communism must go on, even if mesh, pop-up hampers must take the place of wooden rostra and bullhorns. Evolution, my friends!

In addition to cyberspace, the proteges of Avakian also broadcast their incredibly delusional message through the cutting edge technology of dead trees, which bolsters the thriving industry of print journalism.

Alas, my preliminary investigation of these pioneering revolutionaries was abruptly curtailed when several of them demanded that I cease and desist taking pictures.  I can’t imagine what possible objections Communists could have to some harmless photography, but I took thge dispute in stride and calmly described-once again-the purpose of this website. After one Avakianik insisted that I give him copies of American Rattlesnake’s “newspaper,” I proceeded to explain the concept of a news website and why mass-producing a newspaper on pulp, a la Screw or The Nation, is an unnecessary and costly investment. He was not persuaded.

Therefore, I decided to make better use of my time by studying some of The Master’s doctrine, including what seems to be the handbook for all aspiring Revolutionary Communists, Basics.

A compendium of Avakian’s lectures and writings, Basics can also be used-it turns out-as a handy visual aid. In this case, as a giant mercator projection that focused on the depredations which global capitalism has inflicted upon various parts of the globe. One of the worst seems to be the manifestation of widespread famine in developing nations that have embraced the free market. Apparently, collectivism is the way to go in agriculture. Yes, a proven success.

The fact that there was widespread famine and civil strife in India during post-independence, socialist rule, and that that devastating hunger could be attributed in large measure to misguided agricultural policies, is an historical anomaly, I’m sure.

It’s impossible to attend any protest organized by the left and not be greeted by several dozen-or hundred, depending upon the turnout-t-shirts bearing the image of Ernesto “Che” Guevara Lynch, one of Ireland’s most embarrassing exports this side of Bono. Just multiply the image you see above twenty or so times and you’ll have an idea of what walking around Manhattan on May Day is like.

Less recognizable than Argentina’s Che Guevara, but still admired by Marxists of a certain age and disposition, is Africa’s Che Guevara, i.e. Thomas Sankara, the president of Burkina Faso for much of the 1980s. Another friend of Fidel, Sankara even had his version of the Young Pioneers.

In contrast to much of today’s brain-dead, multi-culti, post-modern left, Sankara was a strident opponent of such quaint cultural-religious practices as forced polygamy and female genital mutilation. However, he was in favor of armed Marxist revolution-having come to power in a coup d’état himself-and collective ownership of the means of production. Hence, his enduring popularity among a small segment of western-educated Marxists. Unlike another African ally of Che, whose successful revolution was effaced by subsequent events.

As obscure as the  former Communist president of Burkina Faso might seem, the Cuban Five-now the Cuban Four-are probably even less well known to those who aren’t aware of the extensive and capable intelligence network run by the Cuban government within the United States.

Although most Americans are oblivious to their existence, these spies serve as a potent rallying cry for the Castro regime, as well as a cause célèbre for the anti-American left. Some of you will remember the same type of literature and agitprop at previous demonstrations documented by this website.

Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised by the dedicated group of enthusiastic members of NY ICE I spotted from across the street.

Despite the balmy weather, these people are no sunshine patriots, but stalwart defenders of the Constitutional values upon which this country has thrived. They are in the streets, online, and on the phones pleading the case of ordinary Americans, year after year, regardless of the adverse political climate,  antipathy of the news media, or gamed lobbying structure of Capitol Hill.

Because they are aware of how much our government’s indulgence of illegal immigration has cost us in the past, and how much it will cost future generations of Americans if we don’t address this issue.

With real, substantive solutions, not the regurgitation of false rhetoric and the promise of deterrent measures which will never be implemented if and when the ultimate goal of immigration reform advocates, i.e. amnesty, is achieved.

If we’re going to look at adjusting our nation’s immigration policies, a good place to start would be with the words of our nation’s founding fathers, who remain a much better guidepost to wise decision-making than their dismal successors. If we really want to honor the labor of working Americans, we should start by rejecting plans that