Murderers In Mausoleums: Riding the Back Roads of Empire Between Moscow and Beijing by Jeffrey Tayler - book review - five stars

 

BOOK REVIEW-FIVE STARS

Murderers In Mausoleums: Riding the Back Roads of Empire Between Moscow and Beijing by Jeffrey Tayler

Murderers In Mausoleums: Riding the Back Roads of Empire Between Moscow and Beijing is another great true story from Jeffrey Tayler with cutting edge comparative analysis that cuts to the bone with shocking truthfulness. This eyeopener is very well done and a recommended read.

EXCERPTS;

A Russian Orthodox priest might replace “Islam” and “sharia” with “Christianity” and “the Ten Commandments” and deliver much the same (anti-Western) discourse in church up north. Resentment of the West now amounts to an ecumenical faith across Russia.

We hate Bush here. We’re all against Bush and the war in Iraq. You don’t know what you’ve got yourselves into.”

“You can see on Bush’s face that he’s a bad person, bad. He’s not worthy of sitting here with us to drink a beer.”

“September eleventh was a visitation from the Almighty. God gave us the attacks of that day as a lesson to remind us that he exists, that we’re all his children, all children of one god. It’s not just we in Dagestan who live on a powder keg, it’s all humanity now. For the first time, Americans can feel that for themselves.”

“I hear Condoleezza talking about democracy and that retard Bush telling us how to live, and I say, ‘America, shove your democracy up your ass and stop lecturing us!’ You meddle in other countries and fuck them up and then scold us about human rights. Shove it! I once thought Americans were a great people. But what kind of great people elects a fucking retard twice as president? You c’n tell by the look on his face that he’s a moron, a brainless cretin, but you elect him anyway!”

In Russia, where strength and cleverness are revered above all else, they mattered. Disdain for an America perceived as weak and stupid would embolden Putin in his confrontation with the West.

“Russia is getting stronger, Russia is rising, and you’re just going to have to get used to it.” She sneered. “We’ve got thousands of clever people in this country, brilliant people, scientists and schemers, and make no mistake about it: they’re out-and-out bastards. We live like shit, sure, but we don’t give a damn. Like it or not, we’re getting stronger, and we’re no fucking pansies. The Yeltsin days are over. We’re not taking any more orders from Bush or anyone else.” This kind of talk wasn’t entirely untrue. Russia’s Hobbesian human jungles hone ruthless talents of survival, and its poverty anneals the masses to discomfort; whereas Westerners, or so Russians think, are spoiled, fragile, and spineless. A predatory government forces Russians to develop tactics of evasion and subterfuge, while Westerners indulge their fancies in law-bound societies that permit frivolous pursuits and childish dissent.

Once in power Mao launched Soviet-style “reforms” that led to Soviet-style death and misery but on a Chinese scale—the collectivization of agriculture, the Great Leap Forward, the Cultural Revolution... Millions died in purges and famines before his death in 1976. Outdoing Stalin, he became the greatest mass murderer of the twentieth century. Yet his admirers—and even judging solely by this crowd, there are legions—laud him for ousting foreign occupiers, unifying China, and, for the first time in centuries, putting their country on a par with other world powers. That crowds throng to his embalmed body even now tells us that the future of this country probably does not belong to liberal reformers, that not all people march when freedom calls, that atrocities can be suffered and forgotten, and that justice is a malleable concept.

Ten or fifteen years ago no one expected such authoritarian capitalism would arise, but it is now strengthening by the day, carried forth on the shoulders of a compliant citizenry. Russia and China are working toward a rapprochement. Whether they succeed remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: the new Great Game that began with the collapse of the Soviet Union has ended, and victory has gone to the home teams.

Other books by Jeffrey Tayler reviewed on my blog:

Glory in a Camel's Eye

River of No Reprieve

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For the Love of Cod by Eric Dregni BOOK REVIEW-FIVE STARS

 Book Review-Five Stars

For the Love of Cod: A Father and Son's Search for Norwegian Happiness by Eric Dregni

For the Love of Cod is a very revealing comparative look into the Scandinavian successful social system, their social conscience of equal for all versus the U.S. system with crumbling, out of control inflation run wild in the land of the working poor, while one percent of America’s richest enjoy private jets and have the very best politicians that money can buy.

This eye-opening book is very well-timed for today's world.

For the Love of Cod is worthy of more than five stars.

EXCERPTS;

I discovered we couldn’t afford to stay in hotels either. I’d already told Eilif about this grand plan, however, so I hesitated canceling his ticket. I wrote to friends and relatives in Norway, begging them to let us sleep in their spare bedrooms for a couple of nights. Norway is no longer the most expensive country in the world (as of this writing, it’s moved to fourth place), but it can now boast that it’s the “happiest country in the world,” according to the World Happiness Report from the United Nations in 2017. I was perplexed. My wife, Katy, and I had lived in Trondheim for a year, and it had never struck me as a glowingly joyous place, with its dark winters and reserved citizens. “What does ‘happiness’ even mean?”

She gave birth to Eilif outside of Trondheim the year we lived there. The Norwegian government paid for the delivery, plus gave us a bonus five thousand dollars to help with expenses. Could all of this financial help be one of the reasons for Norwegian happiness?

“I find tax evasion extremely dishonorable, particularly on a corporate scale,” Joffe of Trondheim had told me. “I’m very proud to pay tax. The money is in most cases put to very sensible use such as publicly financed education, health care, libraries, support for disabled and unemployed people, and so on.”

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I had assumed the main reason for Norway’s current success was the trillion dollars saved in the government’s oljefond, or oil fund, but every Norwegian I mently refuted my argument. Inger told me that Norway’s current status “comes out of hard work and luck.” Her husband, Knut, pointed out that this fund is thanks to Farouk al-Kasim, an oil engineer from Iraq who married a Norwegian. He knew Norway had to get foreign investment to establish the drilling technology but knew not to sell it to a foreign country and to plan wise investments early on. Inger chimed in, “This was a stroke of luck. We could have handled the wealth in a different way. In Africa or other places, they sell their resources and then it’s privatized.”

“Health care in Norway consumes 9 percent of GDP; the United States consumes 17 percent of GDP, and half of it is wasted.” Millions still aren’t even covered by health insurance in the United States. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, Norway is one of the highest spenders on health care, and their costs are still significantly less than the United States. Denmark, for example, has excellent health care that only costs 7 percent of GDP.

The Finnish word sisu sums up this concept and means resilience, “guts, grit, determination,” or “stubbornness beyond reason.”

Tourists now are streaming into northern Norway in the winter to see the darkness. The coastal steamer Hurtigruten offers northern lights tours in the middle of winter and promises visitors that they’ll see the aurora borealis or their money back. I loved seeing the northern lights in January but didn’t know if enduring the winter was worth it, considering that all the darkness is just like being locked in a closet.

It’s no coincidence that Amundsen and Nansen knew that skiing was the best way of traveling over snow since I think of Norwegians as cooperative community builders, Tor Dahl corrected me: “Norwegians are the most competitive people on earth—except for maybe the Chinese.” For such a small country, Norway is remarkable not only in its exploration but also in its accomplishment of winning more gold medals in the winter Olympics than any other country, and by far.

The earliest evidence of skis is in Norway, and early runestones reveal carvings of Ullr, the Norse god of skiing. The famous story of two Birkebeiners skiing over a mountain with a baby king has spawned lengthy cross-country ski races.

I remembered what Petter, the bus driver in Trondheim, had told me, “If you wait for good weather, you’ll never be happy.”

Jan was very worried about Russia since NATO has been weakened. “Russia could easily march through Finland and Sweden since they are not part of NATO. Norway is impossible to defend with all its coastline.” Jan said that Norway was in big trouble if the United States pulled out of NATO.

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In the Kingdom of Ice by Hampton Sides - Book Review: Five Stars

 

BOOK REVIEW-FIVE STARS

In the Kingdom of Ice by Hampton Sides

On the cutting edge of the industrialization in the 1830s, America and Americans were frantically clamoring for new frontiers to exploit. Zealots with tons of money and with ego building self-aggrandizement delusions made this true story into a fiasco. Lessons were learned at a very high price.

This is a captivating, fast moving, and must read story.

EXCERPTS;

Bennett was the third-richest man in New York City, with an assured annual income just behind those of William B. Astor and Cornelius Vanderbilt. Bennett was not only the publisher but also the editor in chief and sole owner of the Herald, probably the largest and most influential newspaper in the world. He had inherited the paper from his father, James Gordon Bennett Sr. The Herald had a reputation for being as entertaining as it was informative, its pages suffused with its owner’s sly sense of humor. But its pages were also packed with news; Bennett outspent all other papers to get the latest reports via telegraph and the transatlantic cable. For the newspaper’s longer feature stories, Bennett did whatever was necessary to acquire the talents of the biggest names in American letters—writers like Mark Twain, Stephen Crane, and Walt Whitman. Bennett was also one of New York’s more flamboyant bachelors, known for affairs with burlesque stars and drunken sprees in Newport. He was a member of the Union Club and an avid sportsman. Eight years earlier, he had won the first transatlantic yacht race. He would play an instrumental role in bringing the sport of polo to the United States, as well as competitive bicycling and competitive ballooning. In 1871, at the age of twenty-nine, Bennett had become the youngest commodore in the history of the New York Yacht Club—a post he still held.

Bennett, was known for racing fleet horses as well as sleek boats. Late at night, sometimes fueled with brandy, he would take out his four-in-hand carriage and careen wild-eyed down the moonlit turnpikes around Manhattan. Alert bystanders tended to be both puzzled and shocked by these nocturnal escapades, for Bennett nearly always raced in the nude.

Minute by minute, the pressure intensified. Then a great fist of ice burst through the starboard coal bunker, and soon the hold was flooding. “She had been stabbed in her vitals, and was settling fast,” Newcomb wrote. “The ship is not yet built that can stand such hugging.” Some of the men, thinking this must be the end, raced to their bunks and grabbed their knapsacks, which had been packed for a catastrophe such as this. Finally it came, the call they had been dreading but preparing for, off and on, for many months: “Abandon ship!”

In a final whirl of water, the Jeannette plunged out of sight. Nothing remained, said Danenhower, “of our old and good friend, the Jeannette, which for many months had endured the embrace of the Arctic monster.” She had sunk at latitude 77°15 N, longitude 155° E, a little more than seven hundred miles south of the North Pole.

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Glory in a Camel's Eye: A Perilous Trek Through the Greatest African Desert by Jeffrey Tayler BOOK REVIEW FIVE STARS

 

BOOK REVIEW - FIVE STARS

Glory in a Camel's Eye: A Perilous Trek Through the Greatest African Desert by Jeffrey Tayler

Trekking through Morocco's southern desert.

The author, Jeffrey Taylor, is an extremely talented writer who exquisitely paints pictures with words. His talents have made all of his memorable books classics. I am thoroughly impressed and await his next book.

When it comes to out of the ordinary outlandish adventures Jeffrey Tayler has set a standard uniquely his own.

I am thoroughly impressed after enjoying three of his high adventure escapades.

Excerpts;

During the Middle Ages Arabic became a language of science and literature and, by way of Medieval Latin, contributed to English a wealth of now common words, among them “alcohol,” “algebra,” “syrup,” and “coffee.” From the eastern realms of their empire, the Arabs brought back Hindi (“Indian,” later called “Arabic”) numerals and passed them on to Europe;

The Indian concept of zero permitted the birth of modern mathematics and science. The Arabs kept alive the ancient Greek notion that the earth was round and, through a work in Latin, delivered it to Columbus, thus aiding his discovery of the Americas.

“Come, let us show you how to pray!” Another: “Embrace Islam! If you speak Arabic you must embrace Islam!” They meant to express goodwill toward me by urging me to convert. I smiled and tried to think of a way to answer without causing offense. Noureddine came over and stood next to me. “I’m going to teach him all about Islam.” Ali said, “God will send him faith when He chooses.” “God willing!” all said. That put an end to the conversation, and we moved on. It was a tactful way to evade the question, and I would remember it.

Faith was a personal matter, and that we accepted it as such made it possible for us to become good friends.

I wanted to relax as they had, but now, with this talk of floods, I found I couldn’t. “Wait a second,” I said. “We’re camped right in the middle of this wadi and you’re telling me we could be swept away by a wall of water in the middle of the night?”

I asked Hassan what the Qur’an suggest Ruhhal use to wash themselves after sex when they were in the desert, away from water. (Bathing after intercourse is obligatory in Islam.) Did they apply the same thorn-spiked sand they used before praying?

THE SUN that had warmed us back to life at dawn in February now exhausted us by nine A.M. with its fiery April resplendence.

Life is too short to hold grudges; and we must do good to others. Bad deeds always come back to us.

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