BBC: Muslim Demographics - The Truth

BBC Radio has looked at the claims made in Muslim Demographics, the Islamophobic video that came out in May, and has come out with their own report. In general, the BBC confirms what I and a number of other bloggers wrote a few months ago: that the video is largely erroneous in its facts and conclusions.

For example, one of the claims made by the video (that the Russian army will be 40% Muslim within a few years) was dismissed by one expert as "complete poppycock." In another claim (that Germany will become a Muslim-majority nation by 2050), the BBC interviewed the person who was quoted for that statistic, Mr. Walter Radermacher. Mr. Radermacher not only said that he was misquoted but that he was making the opposite argument!

The BBC's ultimate conclusion, that the makers of Muslim Demographics neither found accurate data nor handled what data they used with care, is spot on. The only surprise is why they didn't do this research and come out with their report back in May, when the video was first released.


HT: QuranClub

Marty Feldman - Lightning-Coach Tours

I was breezing through the Internet, caught a brief glimpse of a Monty Python video and decided to post a Marty Feldman video instead. (Yeah, go figure!) This is "Lightning Coach Tours," originally aired on the BBC on December 9, 1968, from Marty's Marty show, actually known as It's Marty (as of the time of the showing; this was the first episode from the second season, which used a different name for the series).

The coach driver ("Everybody back on the coach!") is John Junkin, who had a long, distinguished career as an actor, dying a little less than two years ago, on March 7, 2006.

The Economist: A Prisoner's Tale

I first heard about Burmese artist Htien Lin on BBC World a few nights ago; then I came across his story in this week's The Economist. His story is quite amazing and he has a very interesting, very unique style of painting, which he continues to use even now when he's living in the UK and has ample access to art supplies... Well, almost all. According to BBC World, he continues to use imported Burmese cotton cloth for his work.

The junta that rules Myanmar is not known for its love of art. The generals do occasionally pay for the restoration of an historic temple or the painting of an edifying mural. But inevitably, the resulting work aims more to nourish their self-esteem than to reflect the life or concerns of ordinary Burmese.

The paintings of Htein Lin, a former Burmese dissident who has given up politics for art, serve as something of an antidote to the regime's propaganda. They are not, as some democracy activists might have hoped, a crusading attack on military rule. To the extent that they carry any ideological message, it is a simple insistence on freedom of expression. Above all, the collection of works on display at London's Asia House until October 13th is a record of the misery of life in the junta's prisons.

The life story of Mr Htein Lin (who can be seen above sitting in front of one of his paintings) mirrors the recent history of Burma, as Myanmar was known before the army changed its name. In 1988, while still at university and dabbling in painting, he helped to organise the political protests that brought down the dictatorial regime of the day. When the generals subsequently reasserted themselves, he fled to the jungle, along with many other idealistic students.

But disillusionment set in. The army overran the rebels' camps, neighbouring governments refused them refuge and the pressures of fear, hunger and disease bred discord. Some of Mr Htein Lin's comrades were executed by other rebels on suspicion of spying for the junta; Mr Htein Lin himself was tortured. He escaped and, renouncing politics, returned to university.

Politics, however, soon caught up with him again: the secret police intercepted a letter that, unbeknownst to Mr Htein Lin, mentioned his name as a possible recruit to the opposition's cause. A military tribunal slung him in prison. Six years later, as a result of a power struggle within the junta, he was released.

Throughout all this upheaval, Mr Htein Lin tried to keep painting. In the jungle, he was reduced to sketching in the sand with sticks. But the hardest place to pursue his calling was prison. Brushes, paints and paper were not allowed. At first, he used his fingers to spread dye from the prison factory over empty food packets. Gradually, however, he discovered that the lungyis (sarongs) of the prisoners' uniforms made the best canvases, while almost anything, from the lids of toothpaste tubes to the wheels of cigarette lighters could be used as brushes. Sometimes, he carved stencils out of bars of soap; at others, as in the self-portrait on display in the show, he applied his improvised paints with a syringe.

His fellow prisoners kept an eye out for guards while he painted. In exchange, he put on “exhibitions” for them in his cell block, or painted scenes they requested. He hid his work in his bedroll and bribed friendly guards to smuggle it out. Once, a guard mistook a series of abstract paintings as blueprints for an escape attempt and destroyed them.

Many of the paintings show snapshots of prison life: convicts crouched in subservient squats for inspections, or curled morosely in tiny cells. One, made for a friend who pined for a pretty view, depicts a sunset. Another, painted at the turn of the millennium, presents an imaginary firework display.

Mr Htein Lin says that the constant struggle to obtain supplies and hide his work kept him busy and distracted. Moreover, in the face of these and other obstacles, simply continuing to paint seemed like an act of defiance. It is good that this small but dignified protest succeeded. And it is even better that the paintings have now been drawn to the attention of a much wider audience, thanks in part to the artist's recent marriage to a British diplomat. But perhaps it is also a little depressing to see how the daily struggle to lay his hands on this and that has subsumed Mr Htein Lin's grander ambitions—as it has for so many other Burmese.

Pathetic Western Education

Another good article I'm stealing from IZ. The following geometry diagram comes from a British exam for college freshmen:


Now, compare that problem with the following problem, from a Chinese college entrance exam:

That's right, the Chinese test is for kids trying to get into a university, the first is for dunces who are already in their university.

BBC, where this article first appeared, says: "A glance at the two questions reveals how much more advanced is the maths teaching in China, where children learn the subject up to the age of 18, the society says.

"It has sounded a warning about Britain's future economic prospects which it claims are threatened by competition from scientists in China."

Gee, ya think? Tom Friedman says the world is flat. No, the world is tilting to the east, to Asia, and at an accelerating pace. The west is quickly becoming a has-been (read my previous post) as educational curricula - especially in the sciences and mathematics - become watered down for students who wouldn't make the grade otherwise. (See below.)

And you know things must be really bad in Britain when the Royal Society of Chemistry has to offer a £500 prize to see if anyone can solve the above Chinese problem.

----------------

So, how pathetic is education in the West? The BBC also reported that British schools are encouraging students not to take A-level mathematics courses: "...as maths was a difficult subject, schools feared examination failures which would threaten their standings.

...

"'Schools and students are reluctant to consider A-level mathematics to age 18, because the subject is regarded as difficult, and with league tables and university entrance governed by A-level points, easier subjects are taken.'

...

"'Increasingly, universities are having to mount remedial sessions for incoming science undergraduates because their maths skills are so limited, with many having stopped formal lessons in mathematics two years earlier at the GCSE level.'"

Also,

"Since 2002, there has been a 15% fall in the numbers taking maths at A-level in England, while those taking physics fell 14% and computer sciences 47%."


At least some people in the UK recognize that the problem needs to be solved, although some of the suggestions are mixed. On a positive note:

"'We are changing the curriculum, creating a new entitlement to give more pupils the chance to study separate physics, chemistry and biology GCSEs and piloting 250 science clubs for 11 to 14-year-olds.'

"Some £30m was being spent over the next two years on recruiting 3,000 extra science teachers and encouraging more students to study sciences..."

However, a third BBC article states that a report by the Council for Industry and Higher Education recommends that "A-level students should be paid for passing exams in science and maths... ...a payment of about £500 might be enough to encourage students to stick with Stem [Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics] subjects."