Answer

OK, so:

It's from a psychological profile of Adolf Hitler done by the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) during WWII. The OSS (Wild Bill Donovan's Boys and Girls--Julia Childs was one of them) is the wartime forerunner of the CIA. The quote I used is drawn directly from a page of Mein Kampf, almost verbatim. I was struck dumb by the similarity to the tactics used for eight years by the Axis of Evil: Bush-Cheney-Rove. When I read it to Erin and asked her who it was, that was her first guess. (Actually, Bush is not bright enough to qualify as evil; he was a failed college twit easily lead astray by the other two, but you get my point).

I think that they learned a lot from Paul Goebbels, Hitler's propaganda minister and the founder of modern mass propaganda. It was from him that George Orwell and Aldous Huxley got their main ideas for 1984 and Brave New World, respectively. I found the quote in the blog whilst googling Goebbels and ran across The Big Lie, Hitler's idea that people will question and forgive small lies but will most probably believe the Big One, especially if repeated often enough, which is what Goebbels did (as did Bush: Iraq, yellow cake; Cheney: WMD, 9/11 = Al Qaeda; Rove: the Kerry smears, and as do Limbaugh, Hannity, Beck, Tantaros/Malkin, Fixed News, Ingraham, et.al.: anything about Obama and the Democrats and their work-- 'never concede that there may be some good in your enemy'.

I mean, hell, even Hitler had two good ideas: the freeway and the Volkswagen. Is that what the TeaBaggers mean when they compare Obama to Hitler? Must be. 'Twould be laughable were it not so pathetic ('Note his elegant use of the subjunctive! Isn't he something, though?!').

One of my favorite lines from Huxley: 1,720,426 repetitions = One Truth. Sad but, I fear, true.

I came across the quote during my reading of The Kindly Ones by Jonathan Littell. Almost all of the characters in it are real Nazis from the period with major roles in the Holocaust, so I spent a long time with Wikipedia looking them up. The novel's protaganist is 'one sick puppy' who is with the SD/SS involved with killing squads in the Ukraine and is later involved with Auschwitz and Mauthausen. He is unrepentant.

I stayed with the book (almost 1000 pages) because of my interest in WWII, not because of style or plot, both of which are turgid (one paragraph ran four pages) and/or ridiculous. The French (original language) loved the book, naturally, while the Brits and Yanks gave it either an A or an F. For me it was fascinating as history (and very accurate), but as literature it sucked. Jonathan's daddy, Robert, is a far better writer (in the spy/espionage genre) and I have read all of his books. So in this case, as one reviewer put it, 'the apple falls galaxies from the tree.'

My recommendation: unless you are retired and interested in WWII history, give this one a pass.

Thanks to the three who responded, even though two cheated and got the answer through
Google! Tsk, tsk.

Hope spring is being good to y'all wherever you are.

Quiz

"His primary rules were: never allow the public to cool off; never admit a fault or wrong; never concede that there may be some good in your enemy; never leave room for alternatives; never accept blame; concentrate on one enemy at a time and blame him for everything that goes wrong; people will believe a big lie sooner than a little one; and if you repeat it frequently enough people will sooner or later believe it."


^{Hey, gang. Anyone have an idea who the above refers to? I'll give you the Answer and the source only if you either email me or make a guess in the comment section of the blog. You gonna be amazed. Then again, maybe not.}

April . . .

. . . may be the cruelest month around here: tornado sirens again yesterday, followed by a 5-minute gully washer that included marble-sized hail. Knocked the phone out and it's still not back on. On the other hand, finally had two days in a row of warm, dry weather to finish the media unit for the bedroom. Never used gel stain before and it is marvelous stuff: you can use a disposable foam brush, second coat goes on with rags, not necessary to sand between coats; just used #250 sandpaper before I began. Results above. Beauty, eh? Gene Colwitz and I made the doors, I mounted the hardware (perfectly, of course). You can see how it matches the corner shelf (in mirror), the lamp wood and my silent butler. What you can't see is the bedspread and shams, which is where Erin got the accent color (called Java by the stain company, Espresso by designers after three Cosmos). We have the most beautiful bedroom in creation. And only Louis XIV had a bigger one. Oh, and that's the 26-incher LCD I bought for my Torrance apartment. Talk about perfect fit!

***

Take a look at my elder daughter's blogpage (www.loadedword.blogspot.com): great pic of me during my last visit instructing the boys on the finer points of hoops during that first weekend of March Madness. They actually listened. For ten minutes. Long enough to get the pic, anyway. Poor guys: it would be like me trying to keep track of the puck during televised hockey. Never could.

***

Milestone today: my 100th workout at the local YMCA since 1 July, when I joined. Have gone from 30,000 lbs./week to 41,500. I guess that's progress. Wish the Fitlinxx system could transfer; I had a year's worth of workouts in San Pedro and two year's worth in Torrance. But it doesn't matter: they don't give away T-shirts here for achieving the levels, anyway. I'm working on brown: already have white, yellow and red that I got from Peedro and Torrance. I need to bitch to the Bama manager about that.

***

Speaking of bitching: did I tell you that they tax food in this state? Unbelievable: that's the most regressive tax imaginable. On the other hand, property and income taxes are nothing around here, which of course helps the rich. Welcome to the Red-State South. Damned Republicans.

***

So this has evolved from ThreeDot journalism to ThreeAsterisk journalism. Thanks for the read, Buddy: that makes three. 'Preeshate it, as the coaches and car salesman say. Off to the Y and the dog park now; Erin off to an extra rehearsal. It's a long time until college football season; baseball is boring and golf is for tastelessly dressed Republicans. Sigh. How they must hate that the best in the game is buff, handsome, Stanford-educated, and half-black. Snicker. Neither is a sport, by they way, they're both games. And I'm not as hard-ass as Hemingway, who said that there were only three sports: bullfighting, boxing and rugby; all the rest are games.

Convening

Went to the ACDA National Convention in Oklahoma City last week. The event itself? OK: best choral performance I heard in my opinion was a small British group, VOCES8--fantastic and artistic. I got chills for the first time in a long time. Truly. But did not hear UT or Hak-Won Yoon's Incheon City group from Korea. Heard they were stunning, especially the pros from Incheon.

New people: Debra Cairns, U. Alberta, Canada; Alec Harris, GIA Publishing; Mia Can't-Remember-Last-Name from Portland.

Was also great to see Hugh Davies (plus Tony and Christina), Kirke Mechem, Polly and Burt, Ginger and Rich, Mary Breden, Paul Salamunivich, Allan Petker, Jo from Daegu, Korean Deutsche Sprecher from Pusan, Patricia Corbin, and too many Korean acquaintances to remember much less pronounce. And of course waved and hollered at too many other folks to remember.

Wonderful to see former students In-Gi Min (Korea), Chung-Uk Lee, Soon-Jung Kim, Dominic Gregorio, Shawna Stewart, Charles Jurgensmeier, Bill Bausano, David Hughes, Aya Ueda (UOP), Michelle Jensen. The former students named here and below span three institutions and my entire 37-year collegiate career, starting with Bill B. (1970) and ending with Dominic (2007).

Great to have meals and martinis with former students Rob Istad, Ariel Quintana and TJ Harper. The latter two, Erin and I had an especially wonderful time together until 2:30 AM at the funkiest cowboy bar I've ever seen, the Wormy Dog Saloon (bar stools were saddles). Unfortunately, I lost my Louis Vuitton tie there that was a gift from the Chamber Choir and that cost a small car payment. Sob . . . Also had a meal with current Bama colleague, Ian Loeppky. (Still owe y'all $35, friend. Getcha back soon down here in Dixie).

The picture you see above is 32 years worth of all former conductors of the USC Chamber Choir except its founder, Charles Hirt. From left to right: Jo-Michael Scheibe (current), Paul Salamunivich (one-year interim following me), Rod Eichenberger (15 years--'76-91), James Vail (two-year interim following Eichenberger), Me (15 years--92-07). A lot of people commented on how good I look, all thanks to my own cooking plus 39,000 pounds and 225 hoop shots/week. Oh, and, uh, being personally happy doesn't hurt either, I suppose.

I don't really go much for the conventions themselves anymore but for the people. And what a great time it was, including a chance at the end to chat quite a while with former fan and current blog reader, Lori Marie Rios. She loves my derriere, I love her frontiere--actually, love all of ya, darlin'. Comment now, y'hear? Don't just read.

That goes for all of you: Comment so I know someone's out there. Sniff.

Married

Erin and I got married a week ago today. It was a short civil event at the county courthouse here in Huntsville. Our witnesses were two great men who are partners in life: Wilson and Ron. They both work for the library at the university and both are musicians--Wilson an organist and Ron a very accomplished, fine tenor who is in demand as a soloist hereabouts. The reason we chose them is that they were part of Erin's selection committee and it was love at first sight: they loved her and vice versa. They really lobbied her to take the job and move here. We are glad they did. You see above the wedding party at the courthouse, the pre-dinner bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape I bought (yum), and below, us at the wedding dinner. (Note the custom made, double breasted, double vented blazer that was built for my bod at the tailor shop in the expensive hotel where I stayed last time I was in Korea. Spiffy, eh. The tailor was a prizewinner in a Swiss international competition).

So Sam is no longer a bastard dog and has real parents, which is a genuine relief to him, poor thing; he was embarrassed at the city dog park when asked about his current situation by other dogs. They pointed at him and laughed.

No longer. And Erin can now refer to me as her husband instead of her partner--which sounded like she was a lesbian, or as her man--which sounded like she was trailer trash. As for me, I was accustomed to being referred to occasionally as Mr. Colwitz and I once referred to myself early on as her live-in lover to a couple of delivery men who just spluttered and went about their work without ever looking me directly in the eye.

Now we have all the certificates that make it legal, one of which has Holy Matrimony on it (this is Alabama, after all) even though God was not mentioned by the judge, who by the way signs his name as Tommy instead of Thomas, even though middle-aged and an official of the court (this is Alabama, after all). Only his mom should call him Tommy, for Pete's sake.

Oh, and we didn't have to get an AIDS test (Alabama . . . )

"Holy Matrimony, Batman!!" This has become our new expletive.

We are both very pleased with our new status, though it hasn't affected (NOT impacted!) our relationship a bit: it remains the happy, affectionate, easy, contented, and occasionally erotic one that it was before Tommy's sanction of it. We are both very grateful for that. Holy Matrimony!

Erin's family is very happy for us, as is what remains of mine. Not everyone knows about it yet, even though Erin blabbed it all over Facebook (we were supposed to wait until the printed announcements arrived and were mailed, which happened yesterday. But no, Colwitz has to put it up on to the Cyber Gossip Page. Jeez).

But now it is official, and you can go on-line to Target and/or Williams-Sonoma, where we are registered for a period of time yet, and buy something for us from our wish list. Don't do this for me, do it for Erin, who hasn't had this experience yet and who didn't have a big white dress that cost four figures nor a gaggle of bridesmaids. A few items from these places would sure help make up for that (you can tell which things she tagged (candle paraphenalia, for God's sake) and which are mine (Pig Stuff: tools and knives and cookpots and other things for aging far-sighted hunter-gatherers). Only a few are really expensive, but nothing is over $200.

Sorry it's Christmas, too, but we didn't really want to wait.

*****

Up to Packerland in a week or so we go. And Rob and Brandon will be here from Cali for New Years Eve.

All in all: a very happy time, especially for me.

Even in Alabama, where we are having a sub-tropical monsoon at the moment, so I think I'll cook sauerkraut and porkchops tonight to remind me of my Nordic roots.

Bird

Here you see the Thanksgiving Extravaganza hosted by L and L. I was responsible for the bird, and I did a MagazineCover job, as you can see (click on the pic for a better view; I especially recommend this for a view of The Bird, to heck with DaBoys and their parents). Cooked it on the grill, as I have done since 1976--never have I shoved a bird in the oven. Imagine that. Most people east of the Rockies have no idea what I'm talking about. You want the recipe, give me a holler. Also note the supercool shirt I bought at CNN headquarters in Atlanta: my pro name is Petersen Hunter and I'm stationed in Kuala Lumpur.

Was great to be in Davis even though I got a cold and felt like hell much of the time. It was fun anyway. I already had met L and L's friends before, with some exceptions, but it was nice to see them all in one place and break bird with them.

You can see the spread set-up L and L laid on for the gang (who all brought side dishes--the German woman brought dressing and gravy, saints preserve us). They did a beautiful job and everyone loved everything, including the six kids at the Kid Table, where K is the blond Prince Valiant and B is the one looking right at you. Wonderful, smart kids (sometimes too smart) who are now 4.5 and 2.5, respectively. Took them shopping for a couple of hours one day and bribed good behavior with smoothies; they were great, despite the delay at Long's Drugs.

I am thankful for such a family and love them dearly. DaBoys love me, too, and squeal with delight when they see me at the airport. K dubbed me 'Bumpah' when he was two and the appellation has stuck, thank goodness--none of that 'Grandpa' stuff for me, nossir.

And now am back in my Sweet Home Alabama, where it is cold and trying to snow. In a couple of weeks we go to Packerland for Christmas with Erin's huge family. I will cook Coq au Vin, we will see the last Packer game of the season against the worst team in the league, we will exchange gifts, we will go to Doot's for breakfast one morning, we will watch bowl games until numb, Sam will play in the snow for the first time (not looking forward to the 12-hour drive with a 60-lb. retriever 'puppy').

All in all: I couldn't be either luckier or happier. Sam could, though: he lost his nuts last Tuesday.

(Groan).

Korea II

I was in Korea for the second time this year from 5-19 October as guest conductor of the Pilgrim Mission Choir in Daegu. I was the first guest conductor this group has ever had. They are not a professional ensemble, though many of the 25 singers are professional; they just don't get paid to sing in this group. They have won prizes in a number of international competitions in Europe and Asia. They are a stunningly good ensemble, devoted to sacred music, their conductor and each other. I thoroughly enjoyed our nine rehearsals together and they thoroughly enjoyed their concert performance on the 18th in front of a full house of 1500. The meat of the program I chose for them included Poulenc's Four Christmas Motets, Verdi's Pater Noster, Pinkham's Easter Cantata, and a couple of settings of Cantate Domino by Schütz and Hassler. Except for the latter two pieces, this was a difficult program and they performed it beautifully. I was thrilled and apparently the audience was, too: I autographed dozens of programs in the lobby following the concert, especially for young people, who are the future of choral music.

It was fulfilling and fun (sorry, but that last is an f-word I can still live with).

Their conductor is Jae-Joon Lee, who got his MM in choral music from USC in 1999. He got it to improve his work with choruses because he is a former trumpet player and primarily an orchestral conductor. He conducts a professional orchestra in Daegu in addition to a youth orchestra that does Tchaikovsky and toured Spain. He also runs a music school in Daegu, conducts two choruses when at home. Oh, and a choral seminar for music teachers in August which is usually attended by almost 500. I was part of that seminar last August. Daegu is surrounded by mountains so it was hotter than the hinges of hell and the air was wetter than Rangoon. (I won't go anywhere near East Asia in August ever again. It's May or October or nothing. Jeez.)

He is famous in Daegu and raises money willy-nilly for the Pilgrim Mission and the music school. I had a number of dinners with his supporters while there. He earns his income, though, primarily by conducting opera orchestras in the Phillipines, Cuba and Russia. He has a British agent. He takes no salary from the Mission or the school. He does accept nice suits from his supporters, but nowhere near the level at which Sarah Palin did.

He also is very handsome and has gorgeous hair, very maestro hair.

He thinks I'm wonderful and I am happy to humor him. His singers loved my musicianship, rehearsal technique, conducting gesture, enthusiasm, and interpretation. They gave me a gorgeous, heavy lead crystal 'plaque' that says so. It sits on the top of my filing cabinet now.

And they thought I was funny, especially when I did my impression of a Korean businessman dealing on his cellphone. I can be a real hoot.

I stayed in the 6-star hotel in town (the country's third largest city), in the same suite that Guss Hiddink had in 2002. It had his pictures all over, as well as a bronze plaque on the door. Hiddink was coach of the South Korean World Cup team that damned near made it to the finals in 2002. I remember getting up at 430 in the morning in California to watch their matches. I was sad when they finally lost.

I ate like a prince and was ushered to and fro by J-J and a number of the singers, usually sitting in the Asian BigWig seat behind the passenger seat. Harumph. My tux and briefcase were carried to and from my dressing room by others. They bowed to me when I came into the rehearsal. Asians worship teachers and respect the elderly. I am both.

Sigh.

To them: thank you, friends. Hope you can get someone to translate this for you.

I will miss you.