The lighter side of national
extinction By Spengler
The passing of Anna Nicole Smith last week
was a reminder that death has a humorous side.
Smith reportedly styled herself another Marilyn
Monroe, to whose death hers bears a definite
resemblance. This recalls Karl Marx's quip about
Napoleon III - "History repeats itself, but the
first time as tragedy, and the second time as
farce."
"Always look on the bright side of
death!" sang the crucified chorus in Monty
Python's Life of Brian. Jokes of this ilk
are in deplorable taste, but we laugh at them
regardless, and with good reason. We can laugh at
the death of individuals (and not just
silly
or
disagreeable ones like the late Ms Smith) because
we know that individual death is not the end.
Not only the religious believe in
immortality. The most atheistic communist hopes
that his memory will live in the heart of a
grateful proletariat. Even if we do not believe
that our soul will have a place in heaven or that
we shall be resurrected in the flesh, we
nonetheless believe that something of ourselves
will remain, in the form of progeny, memories,
consequences of actions, and that this something
will persist as long as people who are like us
continue to inhabit the Earth. Humanity perseveres
in the consolation that some immortal part of us
transcends our death.
Sadly, our hope for
immortality in the form of remembrance is a
fragile and often a vain one. Immortality of this
sort depends upon the survival of people who are
like us, that is, upon the continuity of our
culture. If you truly believe in a supernatural
afterlife, to be sure, nothing really can
disappoint you. But there is no consolation in
being the last Mohican.
This sort of
observation applies to all peoples and all times.
What makes our epoch unique is the disquieting
fact that the most extant cultures are
sliding headlong toward early extinction.
Unutterable despair attends the prospect of their
demise, for the doomed well know that soon none of
their tongue and kindred will be left to remember
them. Nine out of 10 of the world's 6,700
languages are not expected to survive the century.
Give it another century or two and some of the
cultures that once bestrode the planet will
disappear as well, given the now generally
bemoaned decline of the populations of most
industrial nations.
It is easy to have fun
at the expense of the individual's demise.
Examples abound of amusing deaths in literature,
for example Polonius in Hamlet, Fagin in
David Copperfield, von Aschenbach in
Death in Venice, and the entire cast of
La Celestina, Fernando de Roja's 1499
tragicomedy. Emma Bovary's death by poisoning
always seemed to me at very least grotesque, if
not hilarious.
There are few examples in
literature of a light-hearted response to the
extinction of a whole people, however. Only one in
fact comes to mind, namely Jonathan Swift's A
Modest Proposal, that is, to cure as bacon the
starving children of Ireland. As an Irishman,
Swift attacked the conscience of his English
audience. The Nazis no doubt enjoyed the idea of
exterminating the Jews. Despite the circulation of
a few execrable ashtray jokes, there can be
nothing funny in the murder of a people that very
much wants to live, and has done nothing to
deserve the heinous attempt to exterminate it.
Only one truly funny national-extinction
joke currently circulates; it concerns the man
from a certain country who reproaches actor
William Shatner of Star Trek as follows:
"On your show, you had Russians, Chinese,
Africans, and many others - why did you never have
a character of my nationality?" Shatner replies,
"You must understand that Star Trek is set
in the future." I will leave it to the reader to
decide which nation best fits the joke.
Today's wave of national extinction is of
an entirely different character, for the peoples
who soon will take their leave from the Earth do
so because they no longer wish to live, and not
because some other people wishes to wipe them out.
I have written about this frequently and will not
reiterate my conclusions here. [1] Suffice it to
say that our consciousness reels at the willful
self-extinction of an entire culture. The prospect
of such an event is unheimlich, in Sigmund
Freud's use of the term; this usually is
translated as "uncanny", although a better
rendition might be "creepy to the point of being
quite horrid". It is one thing for us to feel that
someone has stepped on our grave, and quite
another to sense that the graves of our ancestors
have been eradicated as well.
As an
antidote to this Unheimlichkeit, might it
not be beneficial to consider whether a bit of
Swiftian humor might take the edge off national
extinction? If "bright side of death" jokes are in
bad taste where individuals are concerned, we
should have to admit that national-extinction
humor oversteps the bounds of acceptable taste.
That, however, should not stand between us and a
good laugh. Toward that end, here's a bit of
doggerel about disappearing nations. Notes are
provided for readers who might find some of the
cultural references obscure.
Ten little
Japanese went out to dine. One ordered puffer
fish, and then there were nine. [2] Nine
little Germans marched out with Fritz the Great;
One followed orders, and then there were
eight. [3] Eight little Englishmen were
eating cream of Devon; One clogged his
arteries, and then there were seven. [4]
Seven little Russian girls went out to turn
some tricks; One went to Vancouver, and then
there were six. [5] Six little Irishmen
were singing, "Saints alive!" One sang, "St
George!" and then there were five.
[6] Five little Frenchmen looked out from
Sacre-Coeur; One leaned out too far, and then
there were four. [7] Four little
Persians awaited the Mahdi; One got impatient,
and then there were three. Three little
Dutchman were red, white and blue:
[8] The blue one got euthanized, and then
there were two. [9] Two little Spaniards
were sitting in the sun; They began a Civil
War, and then there was one. [10] One
last Italian whom the doctors couldn't
clone: He died eventually, and then there were
none.
If this is offensive, I hasten
to explain that this is purely intentional, but
note in my defense that I am an equal-opportunity
offender. I refer without favoritism to Japanese
morbidity, German servility, English cooking,
Russian concupiscence, Irish rancor, French
grandiosity, Persian messianism, Dutch
indifference, and Spanish contentiousness. If I
have left out other prospectively extinct
cultures, it is because the literary form permits
only the enumeration of 10 instances. [11]
Remember that it's not the end of the world - it's
just the end of you. And have a nice day.
Notes 1. Why nations die, Asia
Times Online, August 16, 2005. 2. "Fugu
(as the Japanese call puffer fish) is in high
demand in Japan and is also the only delicacy
officially forbidden to the nation's emperor.
According to Ryo Sakai, the sushi-bar manager at
Blowfish, 20,000 tons of puffer are consumed in
Japan every year, with 100 to 200 deaths
attributed to puffer-fish poisoning annually."
(Press magazine, April 18, 2006) 3. "Hunde,
wollt ihr ewig leben? (Dogs, do you want to
live forever?)" Frederick the Great of Prussia
told his retreating troops at the Battle of Kolin
on June 18. 1757. 4. "It is commonly said,
even by the English themselves, that English
cooking is the worst in the world." (George
Orwell) 5. "Criminal groups make an estimated
$7 billion annually by trafficking in women from
Russian and other former Soviet Republics"
(Gillian Caldwell, Global Survival Network,
Reuters, November 6, 1997). See Russia, Coalition Against
Trafficking in Women. Regarding Vancouver as an
example of the dangers of this profession, see The case of the
serial killer, Time magazine. 6. St
George is the patron saint of England and
therefore anathema to the Irish. 7. The
Basilica of Sacre-Coeur overlooking Paris, built
just after France's disastrous 1870 war with
Prussia, is a symbol of France's wounded national
pride and mystical sense of grandeur. 8.
Colors of the Dutch flag. 9. The Netherlands
is the only country in the world that openly
practices euthanasia. See Euthanasia in
Holland. 10. A total of 365,000
Spaniards died in the Civil War of 1936-39, not
counting 100,000 executed afterward by the
victors. 11. The original "Ten Little Indians"
refers to native Americans, not to South Asians.
It is of course objectionable in the extreme.
Several versions are extant. This is the earliest
of which I know: Ten little Injuns standin'
in a line, One toddled home and then there
were nine; Nine little Injuns swingin' on a
gate, One tumbled off and then there were
eight. One little, two little, three little,
four little, five little Injun boys, Six
little, seven little, eight little, nine little,
ten little Injun boys. Eight little Injuns
gayest under heav'n, One went to sleep and then
there were seven; Seven little Injuns cuttin'
up their tricks, One broke his neck and then
there were six. Six little Injuns all alive,
One kicked the bucket and then there were
five; Five little Injuns on a cellar door,
One tumbled in and then there were four.
Four little Injuns up on a spree, One got
fuddled and then there were three; Three
little Injuns out on a canoe, One tumbled
overboard and then there were two. Two little
Injuns foolin' with a gun, One shot t'other
and then there was one; One little Injun
livin' all alone, He got married and then
there were none.
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