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PaperclipPerfector  1yr ago (text post)   2115 thread views

Small-Scale Question Sunday for October 1, 2023

Do you have a dumb question that you're kind of embarrassed to ask in the main thread? Is there something you're just not sure about?

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So, what are you reading?

Still on Paradise Lost. Satan always knows what to say.

Also starting Lord Chesterfield's Letters to his Son, which has been very worthwhile. He's a man both clever and decent, and he writes plainly about things that clever people often don't say. It also has gems like

Adieu! and be persuaded that I shall love you extremely, while you deserve it; but not one moment longer.

I don't think he meant it, but it must have been something to get these letters.

Paper I'm reading: Podgorski's Dynamic Conservatism.

"The Manga Guide to Linear Algebra", and I hate myself a little more with every page I turn. I'm going to complete it, because I want the knowledge and the skills, but the process constantly rubs my nose in my lack of bandwidth in onboarding even basic definitions, much less keeping abstract structures in my head well enough to even see their implications, much less their interactions.

Related, and secondarily, a video course in convex optimization (is that out of scope? If you lot can brag about classic literature I figure it's on to brag about forcing myself through technical content.) I won't detail it except to say it's humbling; playlist at https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8WsPW41L6l7rviIGvIkY0-jn-tM3YSNi if you're curious.

I've rediscovered the US's official congressional record, at https://www.govinfo.gov/app/collection/crec . For whatever reason it's compiled as being distinct from the hearing transcripts, at https://www.govinfo.gov/app/collection/chrg . It's a weird mix of infuriating and humbling, seeing the egoistic grandstanding around things as subtle and varied as the BUILDER act, substantially modifying the National Environmental Policy Act, and as tiny and high-context as tribal treaties from the 1800s interacting with permitting to add a convenience store to a reservation casino. Something about the scale of impact vs the scale of the people involved? These aren't great souls, whether in Congress or the experts they bring to testify, and they're largely not able to make sweeping impacts due to the combined momentum of history, lobbies, budgets, and a few hundred Congressional cats to be herded.

I just wanted to see Jamie Tucker say "shitter" on the record, man.

Brushing up on my Irish history with Tom Barry's Guerrilla Days in Ireland. He's a pretty important figure in the Anglo-Irish War, mcjunker did a very good write up of the Kilmichael Ambush a few years back.

While the Kilmichael Ambush was succesful in that the British patrol was totally wiped out, the Crossbarry Ambush was almost more impressive just for the fact that the IRA weren't wiped out. At that point in the war the British had gotten wise to ambush tactics and patrols consisted of no less than 300 men who would encircle large areas then go house to house clearing out suspected IRA safehouses. The IRA were forced to respond by putting all their eggs in one basket so that numbers were close to 3 to 1 rather than 30 to 1, and this set the stage for the Crossbarry Ambush when Tom Barry and 100 men of the West Cork IRA were encircled by 1200 British troops and 120 Auxiliaries (Barry says 1400 with more patrols on the way). The British were apparently close enough that Barry could hear the execution of one of his commanders who had been caught off guard while recovering from wounds in a nearby house. They had about 40 rounds of ammunition each and little hope of sneaking past the encirclement, so they decided to engage a section which had travelled a bit too far ahead of the others to secure a breakout. Somehow they surprise this section, burn out their trucks, take guns and ammunition in time for the arrival of the next section. The other sections have heard the gunshots and are expecting a quick and easy cleanup operation, so the fact that the IRA have had time to plan a second ambush seems to drive the British into utter confusion. Confusion or unfavourable terrain (it's hard to make use of dozens of trucks if the ones in front have been burned out) are the only explanations I can think of for why the West Cork IRA weren't destroyed that day, because the casualties of a 1200 vs 100 man battle with the IRA flanked on 3 sides, amounted to something like 6 dead on their side and 10 dead on the British side.

Barry's final remarks on the battle make it seem like confusion was the real source of victory:

Shortly after the order to march was given we spied a gathering of British away in the distance ; evidently groups of disorganised units. They appeared to be leaderless, as they were standing around in the centre of a small field in the sloping hillside east of Crossbarry. Through field glasses I could see them gesticulating as if they were arguing as to what to do next. We helped them to make up their minds, for although the distance was a bit far, the Column was halted and deployed along a ditch. The range was given and three volleys from nearly a hundred rifles were fired at them. A few staggered and fell, others broke in all directions, and soon the West Cork hillside was clear of the khaki clad troops. Crossbarry was over.

The decision to fight was part of a pattern for Tom Barry: when the British adapt their tactics, the morale of the IRA is at risk and he has to prove that they can still fight. Some of these counter-tactics are straightforward military affairs, later on in the book Barry justifies terrorism as counter-terrorism (there is a chapter devoted to this called 'Counter-Terror'). When the feared Auxiliary units are sent in and start causing casualties for the IRA, the Kilmichael Ambush shows that they can still win. When the British frustrate ambush tactics by staying in fortified barracks and travelling in large groups, Crossbarry and heavy explosives open another avenue for attack. When the British start a campaign of burning down farmhouses and cottages Barry responds by burning down 2 loyalist houses for every republican house lost (and given the disparity of wealth a £1000 worth of destruction on one side brings £20,000 worth of reprisals). When civilians in country towns are forced to repair roads and inform on any suspicious movements on pain of execution, Barry shoots at their feet to convince them that they have a choice in who is going to kill them. When the Essex regiment gets a reputation for killing the wounded and unarmed, Barry announces that no mercy will be given to that regiment (having fought for Britain in WW1 he still had a lot of respect for the other regiments he was fighting). This isn't to say that the IRA were on the verge of winning, but they were pretty good at surviving.

As for informers, Michael Collins in Dublin was the man who did the most on this front, but Barry has some interesting stories himself:

The first is “A” of Castletown-Kenneigh, aged about thirty, an ex-British soldier, a Catholic and a paid British spy (. . .) The night was bright and they rode slowly along, endeavouring to gauge the size of fields, strength of ditches, the position of houses, byroads and the other factors which influence the selection of an ambush site. After travelling a few hundred yards the leading horse shied violently, nearly throwing his rider, and it was only when the horse was turned round and forced back that the leading rider observed a man lying on the grass by the roadside.

Dismounting, he shook the man, who awoke, sat up and looked at the I.R.A. Officer. In reply to a question as to what he was doing there, the man again looked at the I.R.A. Officer and said : “ It is all right, sir. I am one of yere own and I have just left Bandon Barracks. The Major knows me well, as I work for him.” He then gave his name and address. Then the officer realised that because he was wearing full field equipment over his trench-coat he had been mistaken for a British officer. “ A ” was not drunk, but was obviously recovering from the effects of liquor. The second I.R.A. officer was then called up and asked if he had ever seen “A” in Bandon Barracks. He replied that he had not. “A” was then told he would have to be examined further before he would be released, as he might be a “Shinner,” the British nickname for an Irish Republican. He was asked to walk along to the byroad, where the talk could proceed with less danger of observation from passers-by. During the next twenty minutes he told the two officers the sordid story of his treachery over a nine months’ period. It all came out : the arrests he had been responsible for, the coups he had missed, his list of local I.R.A. who were still evading arrest, and the amount of pay he was receiving : “ Five pounds every week, and sometimes more, if I have good news.” That day, after reporting to the British Battalion Intelligence Officer, “A” had been drinking in the military canteen until after curfew hour. Then, free from observation, the Essex had driven him six miles and dropped him near where we had found him. Overcome by liquor, he had lain down before completing his journey home and had fallen asleep. Then one of the I.R.A. Officers was sent back to bring up the third, alleged to be a prisoner, who would not give any particulars about himself. When “A” was asked if he recognised this prisoner, he called the questioning officer aside and said—“ I do not know his name, but he is one of them. I saw him with the Lordans and others and he is high up in them.” The spy was then told that the prisoner would be brought to Bandon barracks where he would be forced to talk. At this “A” got very excited and again calling the officer aside said— “ You can’t bring this fellow into Bandon as he might know me and get a message out about me. Shoot him. Shoot him now, here.”

The I.R.A. officer replied that he did not like shooting prisoners himself and he would wait until some of his troops came up. Then the spy showed the viciousness of his character for he eagerly volunteered to do the shooting. He asked for the officer’s gun and reached greedily for it, but the time had come to tell him that the play had ended. This spy was a Catholic and the local priest was called to minister to him before he was shot on the roadside at Mawbeg seven hours later. Strange are the ways of destiny. Incidents which appear of little importance may cause death to some and allow life to remain with others. In all probability, but for the shy of a nervous horse, this spy would still be alive and many other members of the I.R.A. would have met their deaths as a result of his activities.

Chesterton, What's Wrong With The World

It's a long series of short and funny meditations on politics and philosophy. A typical paragraph:

I am well aware that the word “property” has been defied in our time by the corruption of the great capitalists. One would think, to hear people talk, that the Rothchilds and the Rockefellers were on the side of property. But obviously they are the enemies of property; because they are enemies of their own limitations. They do not want their own land; but other people’s. When they remove their neighbor’s landmark, they also remove their own. A man who loves a little triangular field ought to love it because it is triangular; anyone who destroys the shape, by giving him more land, is a thief who has stolen a triangle. A man with the true poetry of possession wishes to see the wall where his garden meets Smith’s garden; the hedge where his farm touches Brown’s. He cannot see the shape of his own land unless he sees the edges of his neighbor’s. It is the negation of property that the Duke of Sutherland should have all the farms in one estate; just as it would be the negation of marriage if he had all our wives in one harem.

I disagree with many of them - e.g. the above hints at distributism, the idea that individuals will make better use of their property if they own and work it independently, rather than a few capitalists owning it all. But the capitalists mostly make more efficient and productive use of it, which is why individuals sell their productive capital to capitalists - the capitalists can pay more for it than the individual would make on his own. But it's still funny.

Iain Banks' Use of Weapons. The Culture novels tend to involve an outside protagonist, one who bridges the gap between the universe of solved problems and the one of problems which just haven't been solved yet. In this case, he is an ageless mercenary, periodically contracted by the Culture to play firebrand or warlord on some pre-Contact world. I find this refreshing; he feels much more like a Culture citizen than the agents of Consider Phlebas or Look to Windward despite operating in a very different environment.

Awww yiss. But how about that fire drop Player of Games? Eh? That shit was lit dawg.

One hundred percent. But! I didn’t mention it specifically because the protagonist actually is a citizen, rather than a visitor.

Oh I must be misremembering. Either way yeah Banks is the shit.

Player of Games is a citizen going out to play games. Windward is a cat terrorist coming to tour an Orbital, and Phlebas is a shapechanging outsider’s half-assed quest for Justice.

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