Far from being a member of the remote and autocratic regime that is normally portrayed as governing the world’s most populous country, Wen Jiabao, China’s personable prime minister, has appeared repeatedly on television lending comfort and support to the survivors, making sure, as Caroline Flint might say, that Beijing is seen to be on the people’s side.

The efficiency with which the rulers have responded to the massive destruction has been impressive. The 50,000 troops dispatched to Wenchuan, the earthquake’s epicentre, have made an immediate impact in helping to rescue trapped survivors and distributing vital food and medical supplies. The operation has been well-managed, with airports closed to civilian traffic so as not to impede relief flights. Television bulletins broadcast appeals for blood donations, and priority has been given to restoring electricity and clearing roads.

Compare the professionalism of the operation with the way the United States, the world’s other superpower, responded to Hurricane Katrina in 2005, which killed fewer than 1,000 people but fatally wounded President George W. Bush’s reputation for administrative competence.

…This is the acceptable face of China, far removed from the image of a country that has the world’s highest execution rate and imprisons anyone who expresses the slightest criticism of the communist regime.

Emphases, ah, mine.

Update:

I don’t mean to say that I think accounts of the Chinese response are all lies. I’m not even sure that I mean that ours is to be considered the “Free Press”. Here’s a picture of kindergarden children putting money in a basket for earthquake victims. Schools and communities across the country here were doing the same thing, but they would never get their picture taken because we’re all a bunch of racists. The Coast Guard, despite having its stations and the homes of its crews wiped out, still mounted its biggest rescue operation ever, but if they ever got their pictures taken, it was only because they had some poor elderly black woman in a sling who’d been left behind because we’re all a bunch of racists. I didn’t see a lot of these pictures. All the stories so far have been about the President being on the ground, and the military response being on the ground and the unbearable grief and the miracle stories and all the rest of it, the sorts of emotional archs you expect to read about after a disaster like this. After Katrina it was just anger and revenge. And rumours and conspiracies. You think there aren’t rumours and conspiracies running around Sichuan Province right now? But the press that’s there is there to do something more important than report on a bunch of rumours and conspiracies when there’s REAL NEWS going on.

And this turned into a rant. Bah.

After listing the past half-centuries “Redeemers of a Troubled Planet” (I can’t believe Carter was ever actually on that list):

The alert among you will have noticed by now that what all these spiritually uplifting leaders have in common. They are all Democrats. Never in any of the chapters of this hagiography does a Republican, a conservative, appear in a remotely similar light. These alien creatures by contrast have always been portrayed as cartoonish representatives of the Dark Side of humanity, or, if they were really lucky, simply idiots, failed B-movie actors and irredeemably ignorant hicks with embarrassingly neanderthal views on women, religion and communism.

Let’s not forget the rich people. Because rich people are invariably evil, or so say the people on TV every night who make millions of dollars an hour.

You will not see a finer example of the genre than the cover story of this week’s Newsweek, which was entitled “The O Team”. This rhapsodic inside account of Senator Obama’s campaign reads a little like a cross between Father Alban Butler’s Life of St Francis and the sort of authorised biography of Kim Jong Il you can pick up in any good bookshop in Pyongyang. …

I think the blogs (or at least the heads exploding over at The Corner) have already noted that article at the beginning of the week, but I thought that was funny.

The panegyric included the now conventional wisdom in the media that Republicans have only ever won elections in the past 40 years through lies and fearmongering - smearing their opponents and spreading false fears that a vote for a Democrat would open the country to foreign invasion.

To be fair, the Newsweek credo was only the latest and perhaps most shameless phase of the pro-Obama liturgy in the media. Some cable TV channels prostrate themselves nightly before him. Most newspapers worship at the altar. They have already set up a neat narrative for the election between Senator Obama and John McCain in November - the Second Coming versus Old Grouchy, The Little Flower of Illinois up against the Scaremongering Axeman from Arizona.

There’s a special irony here. Senator McCain is the Republican who has received probably the single most favourable treatment from the media in the past 40 years. He has been a favourite because he conformed to the first law of contemporary political journalism: the only good conservative is a bad conservative. His willingness to defy his party on everything from taxes to global warming, to take on George Bush, has earned him at least an honourable mention in the martyrology of American politics of the past 40 years.

But now that he’s up against Oh! Bama! he will have to be recast in the more familiar Republican mould of villain and scaremonger-in-chief.

This media narrative is not only an outgrowth of the journalists’ natural enthusiasm for a Democrat such as Mr Obama. It is also a clever ploy to pre-emptively de-legitimise any Republican critique of the Democratic nominee.

I like it when Gerry’s tellin’ it like it is.

A single paragraph therein:

Before communism got its name in the 1840s, it was already linked to the ideal — sorry, the unfortunate “necessity” — of revolutionary terrorism, most notably in Babouvism; that is to say, even before Marx and Engels added to its legacy, and long before Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin, Mao, and Pol Pot perfected its theory and practice, it already had its terrible cast. Even if one traces communism back to the puritan Diggers, or to Thomas More, or to millennialist Christianity, or even further back, one can hardly observe in earnest the character of communism as it has come to exist in various regimes without noticing that it bears the unmistakably grim features of Babouvism and Marxism. Gracchus Babeuf, the forefather of much misery, is mostly forgotten, as is most of the output of Marx and Engels, and today there are those who profess to see communistic regimes as if they were the wayward scions of a noble lineage — as betrayals rather than consequences of the ideal. But how is it that anyone can be so brazen as to claim compassion as the very basis of his politics, and yet not bother to find out whether those politics might actually be good for others? To advocate a scheme for the whole of society, and to have made little effort to find out what effects it might have, other than that it makes one feel warm inside, is not to show compassion for others, but rather to show passion for oneself. Here, ignorance may be a defence, though not of any claim to compassion.

Read the whole thing.

Speaking on that subject, a few days ago Vanderleun had a rather good line which was picked up by Instapundit before I could get to it, which rather put me off of it (he has that effect on me, alas):

It’s a litany proving, once again, that there are some lies that lodge so deep in the hopes of man that they can never be killed no matter how many are executed to make the lie true.

Title reference: Fewtril no.243.

One:

I had my own flirtation with the Bond casting cartel - twice, as a matter of fact. The first time was in Goldfinger, to play the unfortunate babe who dies from having her entire body and face painted gold. Being of a squeamish bent, I didn’t fancy lounging around the set all day wearing just a sticky coat of paint, and besides I was too aware of the danger that I could die from it - not eventually, but immediately and in a horribly painful way unless a minimum of a square inch was left unpainted. So I passed and Shirley Eaton did the job, very well I might add. The second time was for the original Casino Royale, which, while being a spoof, was still a spoof featuring 007. I was keen to do this one, produced by the legendary Charles Feldman, one of Hollywood’s true movers and shakers. But my doctor informed me I was in fact enceinte, and sliding around on satin sheets in a peignoir would not do the movie or the baby any good.

Two:

My first glimpse of Las Vegas airport was in the early 1960s, when I’d gone to see Sammy Davis at the Sands hotel. The airport was so tiny and primitive that the Las Vegas sign was made with twigs, and there were only two runways and one terminal. The ’strip’ was just a two-lane highway, which had a few two or three-storey hotels - El Rancho, the Sands, the Flamingo and a few others. But the star contingent of performers was fantastically represented, and every name in showbiz competed for their neon place in the sun. No woman would be caught dead after 6pm unless they wore a silk, satin or chiffon cocktail dress over which was slung a mink stole. The men were equally groomed, all tanned, brilliantined and snappily dressed. James Bond was right at home in this environment.

I could hardly believe the transformation recently when I went to visit my friend Judy Bryer. The glamour of Ian Fleming’s Vegas is far, far away from the reality of today, and I can’t picture James Bond trying to pursue the nefarious Blofeld while stuck in a traffic jam on the strip or trying to chase him on foot among the morbidly obese tourists jostling for space on the sidewalk, battling massive swathes of fat wrapped in Lycra.

And, best of all, three:

I must admit that even Casino Royale seemed slightly anachronistic to me. I haven’t seen so many dinner jackets and gowns for a normal night out in years, and I’m willing to bet that people milling around the Hotel Splendide on any evening aren’t nearly so well dressed. That’s why I felt it was almost impossible to replicate the allure of James Bond today, although I do think that Daniel Craig, with his craggy lived-in face and tough modern way of wearing clothes, hit the perfect note for the 007 of 2008. It would have certainly been a shame to see James Bond relegated to preventing an invasion of asylum seekers masterminded by Red Ken to control the second preference vote while M rode a bicycle into MI6 to avoid the congestion charge.

Lord, that’s funny.

John McCain has decided in effect to run for president as an Independent. And, given the assumptions about the diminished appeal of the Republican brand, that might not be a bad idea - at least in terms of his own personal ambition. Maybe I don’t get out and about enough but I meet only three kinds of Republicans:

1) A small number who are disgusted with the GOP and say this Bob Barr/Ron Paul/Whoever chap is going to get their vote.

2) A small number who are disgusted with the GOP and plan on sitting on their hands this November.

3) A much bigger number who are disgusted with the GOP but say it’s a waste of time flirting with Barr or flouncing off in a huff because it’s going to be Obama or McCain in the Oval Office so we have to vote for McCain faute de mieux.

So I meet Republicans for Barr, Republicans for Staying Home, and Republicans for Voting McCain With An Industrial-Strength Clothespin. But I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation with anyone who likes the Republican Party. And one can’t but feel this bodes ill for November. A McCain victory with Democrat gains in Congress would be an invitation to a one-term “maverick” president to go on an almighty bipartisan binge.

This is next to a large skyscraper ad in the margin of McCain in a youthful swagger repeatedly saluting.

John Kerry, eat your heart out.

Didier Durand, one of the Chicago chefs who formed a movement to end the ban, called the decision “fabulous”.

“All of us are so excited,” he said told reporters outside his restaurant while holding his duck Nicolai - named after French President Nicolas Sarkozy.

Mr Durand acknowledged that his restaurant had been a “duckeasy”, getting round the ban by serving foie gras for free.

Doug Sohn, the owner of Hot Doug’s “sausage superstore and encased meat emporium” and recipient of a $250 (£129) fine for serving foie gras last year, said he was happy about the decision.

“I truly hope this ends it,” he told the Associated Press news agency.

“There are real important issues in this city. This is certainly not one of them.”

Fun fact: geese don’t have a gag reflex.

Cherie Blair’s memoir, published today, is “a Cinderella fairytale of an ordinary Liverpudlian schoolgirl who was transformed into a style icon and cover girl”. Sorry, wrong book. That’s the dustjacket blurb for Coleen (Welcome to My World) McLoughlin, the story of the soon-to-be Mrs Wayne Rooney.

The blurring of political and celebrity memoirs has been deplored. But it’s worse than that. The exploits of “Me and Wayne” are as racy as The Very Hungry Caterpillar when set against the antics of “Me and Tony”. Unprotected sex at Balmoral in the Queen’s spare bedroom, for starters. Such indiscretions make Coleen look like Clarissa Eden.

Cherie has out-Wagged the Wags. Can a pair of mauve rabbit fur boots, a signature fragrance and an advertising contract with George at Asda be far behind? This transition might not matter, but for two things. The first is that her book coincides with a deep unease over what “celebrity culture” is doing to children.

Critics from the Archbishop of Canterbury downwards hold it responsible for some or all of the following: avarice, teenage pregnancy, declining sales of Charles Dickens, happy slapping, anorexia, obesity, chronic depression and the alleged fact that most pre-pubescent girls would sell their steely souls for a Princess Barbie make-up kit right now and a pair of Jimmy Choos in the hereafter. …

While her husband’s Respect agenda was making difficult children worse, she spoke up often against the waste of lives and the over-use of jail. She was an impressive and impassioned campaigner. She still is.

So she must see what a potentially damaging example is being set. Bad role models normally mean cocaine-addled footballers burning £50 notes in nightclubs. Instead, the first prophets of bling are the avatars of an administration that promised social justice and equality.

Don’t blame celebrities when at least some of the political classes look so venal. In comparison, Jordan and Peter Andre, not to mention Tory “toffs”, seem pillars of caring Britain.

Well, I see the point, but if there’s a bright side to setting a damaging example like this, it’s that we get to hear Laura Bush’s stories. …But of course we won’t.

Times Online - UN warns that second Cyclone could hit Burma in next 24 hours

Fighting for their lives with only meagre supplies of food, clean water and medical aid reaching them, the two million Burmese left homeless by Cyclone Nargis may face a fresh pounding by the elements.

Citing an alarming new forecast by the Joint Typhoon Warning Centre (JTWC), the United Nations disaster response arm has warned that a new cyclone may currently be forming above Burma and could make landfall within the next 24 hours.

The forecast came as the Red Cross revised upwards its death toll estimate, announcing that as many as 127,990 may have died in the catastrophe.

And I think it’s probably fairly unlikely that the junta’s going to be warning everyone this time around.

Watch the police allow themselves to become encircled by the mob and backed against a wall as the mob cries out “You wanna hit a Muslim”.

Curtsy: Damian Thompson, who says it went up on “a leading anti-Islamic website today” and that it’s about three years old, probably from the 2005 election.

After all, Hezbollah is one of the world’s most ruthless clerical fascist organisations - complete with ersatz Nazi salutes and Iranian-style Holocaust denial. When the legitimate, democratic Government of Lebanon dared to challenge it, Hezbollah went on a sectarian rampage, murdering scores of opponents and destroying much of the country’s free media.

Yet there has been not a peep from the concerned humanitarians of the Stop the War Coalition, which boasted of putting 100,000 people on to the streets to protest against Israeli assaults. …

The other great myth about Hezbollah - peddled by too many of its Western apologists - is that it is an entirely indigenous “resistance” movement: if so, why have pictures gone up of the Iranian leader, Ali Khamenei, and the Syrian President, Bashar Assad, for the first time in Beirut since the Cedar Revolution of 2005? And, given the violent oppression of Sunnis by Hezbollah, why has so little been heard from the Muslim Council of Britain and the British Muslim Initiative, two predominantly Sunni organisations? Don’t Lebanese Sunnis deserve a little solidarity from their brethren?

So why does Hezbollah’s putsch of 2008 not excite stern criticism - as did Israel’s invasion of 2006? It’s simple: many “progressives” hate Israeli and Western policy far more than they love Lebanon.

I haven’t heard a single peep about this business since it started, whenever that was. I saw some headlines in a couple blogs but didn’t read them because I didn’t have any background and I’m not yet in the habit of relying on blogs for my news content (say what you like about the MSM but at least in some countries they still know how to manage an inverted pyramid).