The Most Important Cultural Critic You've Never Heard Of


Nadeem Paracha is not a household name in the West, but he should be. Born in Karachi in 1967, Paracha is a journalist, cultural critic, and political satirist in Pakistan. Arrested twice by General Zia’s right-wing dictatorship for “anti-state activities,” Paracha knows a thing or two about what it's like to speak truth to power.

Something of a Cassandra in Pakistan, Nadeem Paracha is a voice of reason in a deafening cacophony of wild conspiracy theories and anti-Western propaganda.

Paracha is an interesting case, too, because he very readily admits that he spent his early career parroting many of the same anti-Western tropes that he debunks today. Oh, and Paracha is mad as hell, and he's not going to take it anymore.

In a recent post on the website of English language daily Dawn, Paracha describes the reaction to a terrorist bombing at Islamabad's Islamic University that took the lives of eight innocent students:

Here we have a university that was attacked by a psychotic suicide bomber who slaughtered and injured dozens of students so he could get his share of hooris in Paradise. The attack was then proudly owned by the Tekrik-e-Taliban Pakistan. And in its wake, we saw enraged students protesting against the Kerry-Lugar act? What a response!

What did the Kerry-Lugar act have to do with the suicide attack? Wasn’t this remarkably idiotic ‘protest rally’ by the students actually an insult to those who were so mercilessly slaughtered by holy barbarians?


Paracha takes on misdirected attitudes wherever he sees them, including in a recent article about a near traffic accident that serves as a clever allegory for Pakistan's political woes. He sees people acting foolishly, but he doesn't condemn them - he tries to set them on the right path, to make them think. For Paracha, the end goal is to goad his countrymen into fulfilling their potential.

But Paracha has no patience for fellow journalists who spin ridiculous fantasies and attempt to pass them off as legitimate news. And he's not afraid to name names, either.

What I am getting at is that in Pakistan where democracy has always been a struggle, we have to keep a concerned eye on the lunatic fringe that (mainly through the mainstream electronic media) is having a ball with the whole democratic notion of freedom of speech and expression.

Obviously, this fringe, largely made up of certain TV personalities, conspiracy theorists, politicians and televangelists, may have been able to find applause from within some of the country’s urban middle and upper-middle-class drawing rooms, but they remain largely demagogic and focused on attacking democracy — either as a ‘destructive Western/ Zionist construct’ or worse, an ‘unacceptable Hindu offering.’

What is offered as an alternative are high-flying Utopian arrangements weaved together from a largely mythical understanding of Islamic and Pakistani history in which certain prominent Muslim and Pakistani figureheads are spun into becoming glorified hate-mongers. This is then explained away as a ‘proof’ that Islam (and Pakistan) are historically not compatible with liberal democracy and its principles.

Men like Munawar Hussain, Imran Khan, Zaid Hamid, Shahid Masood, Aamir Liaquat, Mubashar Lucman (and growing) will stir and shake passionately on the mini-screen, like doing a modern-day impersonation of the great Aziz Mian Qawal; they will sweat, they will shout, wring their hands and clench their fists, pleading at the top of their voices the meaning of ‘true patriotism,’ and ‘Islam’ and how both Pakistan and Islam are in danger of being infiltrated, adulterated and eventually obliterated by strange sounding ‘lobbies’, whose existence may make fictional sense in Middle Earth in the Lord of the Rings; they smell of cynical, demagogic paranoia.


In a recent segment on Dawn News TV, Paracha gives a fascinating insight into Pakistan's conspiracy-theory journalists, as well as his own journey from young radical to voice of reason.



While Paracha has shifted his work to primarily debunking conspiracy theories in political discourse, he's not done with popular music. In a recent video produced by The New York Times, Paracha takes to task popular Pakistani rock bands for their willingness to propagate anti-Western themes while remaining completely silent about the Taliban extremists that are bombing their own neighborhoods.



In a post-colonial country that (understandably) views the West with suspicion, that's besieged by fundamentalist religious terrorists, and with a media more apt to broadcast conspiracy fantasies than actual news, Paracha is not just a breath of fresh air - he may be the hope of a nation.

Hey, look over here!

Due to a severe lack of time for more involved blog posts, I've set up a Tumblr blog here.

While I plan to keep this blog around in case I have more time to dedicate to bloviation, I'm probably going to be doing a lot more posting on the Tumblr blog for the time being.

Check it out!

Flower Plower

"The only thing they're going to be putting pressure on is the grass."

- Rep. Barney Frank (D-Mass.) on protest demonstrators.

Recommended readings for today

Political Economy



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Farewell to Summer

I'm on a boat.With October just around the corner, I'm having to admit to myself that another summer is already come and gone. While I've already packed away most of the summer wardrobe, it's still not quite cool enough to feel like fall in the mid-Atlantic. Amidst this seasonal segue, I find it's nice to take the opportunity to make some small trips that help bridge the seasons. Yesterday, my wife and I revisited one of our favorite day trips with my brother and his wife who recently relocated to DC.

After a night cheering the Longhorns as they defeated Texas Tech 34-24, we met up early Sunday morning and hit the links for a quick 9 before driving out to Annapolis for lunch.

Annapolis is home to one of my favorite eateries, Jimmy Cantler's Riverside Inn. Cantler's has an atmosphere that is just about perfect for making me forget that eventually I'll have to return to the office. Situated right on the water away from downtown, it's easy to believe that you're far away from the Sisyphean world of workaday drudgery and morning commutes. Much of the staff appear to be local high school kids, which reminds me of the family restaurants where I grew up, making it all the more homey. Oh, and the food is fantastic. We plowed through a dozen large crabs with coleslaw, fries, and hush puppies. All washed down with cold beer in a warm September sun.

After lunch we walked around City Dock and downtown Annapolis. Much to our delight (the the chagrin of fellow tourists, no doubt) our wives permitted us to stop at the tobacconist for cigars. With Montecristos alit, we made our way down the boardwalk and ogled the boats in ego alley. A personal favorite, and one that duly impressed my brother, was the Manitou, JFK's presidential yacht. If GWB's Crawford ranch was "The Western White House," the Manitou was the White House on the Water.

Kennedy family cruise aboard the Manitou

Interestingly, the Manitou is for sale. Had I the means, I'd grab that baby up in a heartbeat. As it were, though, I hope it goes to an appreciative buyer.

Annapolis is also home to some great haberdashers. Laurence Clothing on Main Street is a standard bearer for traditional (what my brother still calls 'soulless', but I'm working on him) menswear, and a regular stop anytime I'm in town.

Another Annapolis tradition is Johnson on the Avenue. Sadly, the shop across from the Maryland State House is no more. Visiting Johnson's was always a treat. The shop was filled with dark woods, classic tweeds, and gentlemen browsing some of the finest clothes in town. Johnson's provided tailoring for officers and midshipmen at the Naval Academy, and stepping inside their State Circle store always filled one with a strong sense of tradition. I made my regular pilgrimage and attempted to describe to brother what he'd missed out on by taking so long to get there. I understand from their website that Mr. Johnson's granddaughters are maintaining the store as an online shop, and I wish them the best of luck.

It was a great Sunday outdoors, uninterrupted by petty distractions and life's frivolities. The four of us were able to concentrate on what's really important in life - family, food, and having a laugh. Here's to fond summer memories and looking forward to an equally adventurous fall.

Soul Power

Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears

Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears


There was a time when R&B meant something other than trite warbling over glorified Casio rhythm presets. Once upon a time performers like Ray Charles and Al Green moved feet and hips and hearts. They made music with soul.

60s mod girls at a soul danceThe music was infectious, and it freed a generation of youth from the shackles of their parents' outdated ideas about race, class, and culture.

Brown v. Board of Education may have integrated schools, but Stax Records really broke down the barriers of racial segregation in the hearts and minds of America.

Soul music seemed poised to make a brief comeback after the release of films like The Blues Brothers and The Commitments. As great as those films are, they were really just bringing attention back to standard soul classics. They were all nostalgia, no renewal.

Enter Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears, a group of musicians from Austin, Texas that are bringing soul back - and in force. Their debut record, Tell Em What Your Name Is! was released by Universal Music Group's Lost Highway label in March. I may be late to the show, but thank God I found a ticket. This music is HOT.

If you're like me and you're just hearing of these guys, check out the video for their song Sugarfoot. This already has me planning the playlist for a soul disco in the basement.

In their infinite wisdom, Universal Music Group has disabled embedding, so I can't actually show you the promotional video they paid a lot of money to produce. I can only provide you a link to click through to watch it somewhere else.

Take the extra step, though. It's worth it.

Blue Horseshoe Loves Endicott Steel

Wall Street

Oliver Stone is making a sequel to his 1987 hit Wall Street, sending pomade futures through the roof. When Wall Street came out I was too young to really know what was going on, but it was one of those films (like Real Genius) that we could all recite verbatim in high school.

And why not? The film had everything you wanted in the late '80s - slicked back hair, expensive suits, cellular phones, and arrogance for miles. In the end, all of this went into the dustbin when we got old enough to realize that girls were far more interested in Doc Martens and ratty cardigan sweaters. But for a period, Wall Street was the lifestyle movie of choice. It's where, as young teenagers, we first saw in action the contrasting collar and silk braces that represented "success." Will we see, this time around, a resurgence of Zegna stripes? God, I hope not.

Of course, none of this was by design. Wall Street was meant to expose the excesses and moral failings of the players at the time. That it became a hagiography should, perhaps, have been foreseen, but it's not an uncommon dilemma for filmmakers, I would think. I will be interested, however, to see how Stone approaches the recent market shenanigans, and whether the bad guys again come across so damn cool.

Den of ThievesI've also been wondering lately when we'd see a follow-up to James Stewart's book, Den of Thieves about the Milken, Boesky, Siegel, and Levine scandals of the period. That book was a must-read when I was in high school, though, much like Wall Street, we all took the wrong message from it.

Den of Thieves really is a thrilling read, as I remember it. I should pick it up again. The backstory for the past decade has equally compelling characters, though, and I hope a sequel is, like its cinematic cousin, Wall Street, in the works.

Slightly off topic, but thinking about this reminded me of the great anti-drug PSAs of the time. This was always a favorite.



"And buy a decent suit. You can't come in here looking like this. Go to Morty Sills, tell him I sent you."

-- Gordon Gekko