Things People Blame the Jews For, Volume LXXXI: Migrants from Morocco

On Thursday, a large influx of migrants (reportedly 60,000) crossed from Morocco into Ceuta, a Spanish exclave on the mainland African coast. This has led to a lot of far-right chirping and no small number of conspiracy theories. And where there are conspiracy theories, well, you know what's going to follow -- it's a Zionist plot, done to "punish" Spain for its pro-Palestine advocacy.

At first it was just the usual assortment of Twitter randos, notable only for giving us the never-before-uttered phrase "Zionist-occupied Morocco". But it has definitely broken containment. Al-Jazeera has a "just raising questions" column that doesn't allow a complete lack of evidence to interfere with a "[w]hether Israel is indeed involved ... remains to be seen" conclusion. Then Javier Bardem got in on the action, with a profoundly weird Instagram post implying that actually Morocco is a European power invading African Spain (with the same "we don't know who engineered this crisis", but we sure feel confident suggesting it's Israel!).

One thing this particular incident inspired me to do is reflect on how I deal with statements blaming "Zionists" or "Israel" in this series. It's called Things People Blame the Jews For, and as approximately three million BlueSky users are quick to remind us, "Jew" is not a synonym of "Israel" or "Zionist". And of course, I do not contest that Israel does any number of things for which it can be "blamed" for (and which it would never occur to me to put into this series). So what does make a "blame the Zionists" post TPBTJF-qualified?

The basic answer is that I'll include an incident if it's clear that "Israel" or "Zionist" is standing in for the role Jews have historically occupied in conspiracy theories -- as a ready-available source of blame for generic bad things that have no significant connection to Israel or Jews at all (beyond the normal connections that can always be found between one significant social group and another). People race to that explanation not because it's objectively all that plausible, but because it will always feel plausible to those for whom "it's the Jews fault" always has an above-baseline ring of truth to it.

If one buys into the "punishment" argument, one could basically say that any bad thing that happens to any country which is critical of Israel can be plausibly suggested to trace back to Israeli malfeasance (see also: Egypt suffered from some controversial World Cup calls because Israel). This is very convenient for the leaders of said country, but not very convenient for people actually interested in the true sources of said bad thing.

Good Government Backsliding

One of Zohran Mamdani's signature policy initiatives just launched -- a tax on pied-à-terres. The tax would apply to second homes (i.e., those not occupied as a primary residence) worth over $1 million.

I won't claim to be a housing (or tax) policy expert, but this seems perfectly reasonable to me. Admittedly, given the cost of NYC real estate a one million dollar home maybe isn't as opulent as one might imagine elsewhere.  But a one million dollar second home undoubtedly qualifies as a luxury, and it is no foul to ask people who live in luxury to pay a little extra to support the rest of society.

So far, so good. Unfortunately, the rollout of the tax has apparently been beset with problems. The city released a list of 960,000 properties it thought "could" be subjected to the tax, far in excess of the 10,000 units predicted to actually qualify for the assessment. Reportedly, even though the tax is explicitly targeted at second homes, quite a few homeowners received letters telling them they were on the hook for their primary residence. And a relatively quick deadline set for challenging the assessment (near the end of August) has been paired with a malfunctioning mechanism for actually filing the challenge, causing panic amongst a significant quotient of homeowners who were not intended to and should not be covered by the tax:

Ohlerking’s notice said he could apply for an exemption to the tax by submitting proof online that the home was his primary residence. 

But, when Ohlerking, who is blind, logged on to the prescribed website with the help of his friend Jennifer Stadnik, they were met with a nonfunctioning blank white screen.  

So, the pair printed out a cache of documents to take to the Department of Finance’s Brooklyn office—only to be told by employees that the office couldn’t accept Ohlerking’s proof of residency at that time because they were busy setting up a designated intake center for people claiming they wrongfully received pied-à-terre tax notices, Stadnik said.

On Friday, Stadnik said the office called Ohlerking to tell him it would be able to help him on Monday morning.

I'll pause here to say two things. One is that part of good government is good execution, no matter what it is you're doing. Whatever one might think about the policy, the execution seems to have been a screw-up here, and for that the Mamdani administration deserves to take a few lumps. The other is that mistakes happen. No administration ever does everything perfectly. Taking a few lumps is one thing, but stories like this don't on their own justify some sweeping indictment that the Mamdani administration is essentially or uniquely incompetent.

And in an ideal world, that's all that would need to be said. But on BlueSky, I've seen an alarming number of posts not just excusing the rollout mishaps, but taking a tone of sadistic glee that people are being subjected to these mistakes (and an apparently Kafka-esque process for challenging said mistakes). "Oh yes, what a colossal mess, asking wealthy property owners to prove they live in those properties," sneered one journalist. An article in the Free Press titled "Why Mamdani Is Asking My Mom to Pay His Pied-à-Terre Tax" was met with a snarky "I'm guessing he's asking her because she owns a pied-a-terre" -- but the point of the article is that no, she doesn't, this is her primary residence (the author in question is Alex Berenson, and I deeply resent having to say anything remotely defensive on his behalf).

At the risk of being cringe liberal, it is never good to revel in another's suffering for its own sake. If Mamdani's tax is good, it's because it raises revenue from those who can most afford to pay to fund projects necessary for the good of the city as a whole. It's not good because it aggravates people who own lavish second homes in New York that they don't live in. It's certainly not good because it aggravates people who are mistakenly asserted to be owners of lavish second homes in New York that they don't live in. At that point, one is saying that it is good to immiserate the innocent in the service of attempting to immiserate the enemy class. This is not a healthy attitude. Once that sort of atavistic sadism is allowed to let slip, it always leads to dark places.

A few days ago, I said that "Half of Mamdani’s genius is convincing ordinary people that progressive ideas will materially benefit their lives and aren’t scary communism, and the other half is convincing terminally online leftists that basic good government is progressive and isn’t neoliberal shilling for evil corporations." I stand by that, and I don't think this blip falsifies the broader point that for the most part Mamdani genuinely has tried to focus on basic good government and that doing so is part of being a progressive, not a betrayal of it.

But it's pretty clear that many of his supporters, at least, have not quite internalized the lesson yet.

Blamed For (Not) Our Crazies

This year, animal rights activists in Oregon tried to get a petition on the ballot that would extend the state's animal cruelty laws to all animals, including those in the wild or being farmed for agriculture. That description may or may not seem extreme, but the practical upshots are absolutely extreme: a total ban on hunting and fishing, a ban on livestock slaughter, a ban on most forms of animal husbandry, even a ban on most types of pest control.

Unsurprisingly, it was not popular -- receiving essentially wall-to-wall denunciations from major politicians of both parties. Ultimately, it did not receive enough signatures to make the ballot, and one would think we could all chalk it up to "there are fringe radicals everywhere" and leave it there.

Or we could engage in our favorite pastime and say that the existence of this petition proves Democrats are terrible. Enter Erik Loomis' post on the initiative, which begins as follows:

Oregon Democrats: A Parody of Liberals

I cannot imagine a worse or stupider ballot measure than what Oregon liberals are trying to push here. Evidently, Democrats never want to win a rural voter ever again.

What's amazing about this is that the article Loomis proceeds to block quote tells us both that the initiative is poised to fail to qualify for the ballot and that it was generally opposed by statewide Democrats (and Republicans). So how does it reflect poorly on "Oregon Democrats"?

The people behind this initiative, I am absolutely certain, do not care a whit about "Democrats" or Democratic electoral prospects. It's a fair bet that they're not actually Democrats themselves. The only thing Democrats have done with respect to this initiative is successfully oppose it. Yet it's still framed as proof of Democratic idiocy and/or malfeasance.

The real irony is that Murc's law was created at LGM!

There's a Print Club, and I'm In It

 

As some of you know, my recent hobby-obsession is art collecting. And while I don't limit myself to one particular medium, to the extent I have a concentration, it's on prints.

Being the self-reflective sort, I wondered why editioned prints in particular appeal to me so much. The standard "pitch" for prints is that they are a cheaper and more accessible point of entry into the fine art world than other mediums. We've talked before about how the same A-tier artists whose paintings go for a million dollars-plus have editions available you can snag for a thousand dollars or less.

Being a cost-conscious sort (and certainly not a megamillionaire), that's definitely playing a role. But there are some other things I like about prints in particular.

One is that prints are limited editions, but not one-of-a-kind. People who are purists about paintings over prints often harp on the uniqueness of the former. But I actually kind of like the communal aspect of sharing in a particular work -- at least, to a limited extent. A club that anyone can join is pointless, but a club that only has one member is pretty boring. Print ownership is like being part of an exclusive but still interesting club.

For example, the image pictured above is an etching I recently acquired by Leonard Baskin, titled "Artemis". In addition to his "regular" artistic career, Baskin founded and owned the Gehenna Press, which published limited edition fine arts books. One such book was an edition of the Greek tragedy Hippolytus, of which only 200 copies were made, and included with the book were ten illustrations, "Artemis" being one of them. Outside those 200, Baskin created a supplemental edition of 90, which is where my copy comes from. So 290 total -- not too many, in the scheme of things. And even better is who else is in that small circle. For "Artemis", I now know that a piece on my wall also is in the collection of (among other locales) the Delaware Art Museum and the Cornell University Art Museum. That's pretty neat! I won't claim that all or even most of the works I own are represented in museums, but I do have pieces that also are found in the National Gallery of Art, the Walker, the National Gallery of Australia, and Cambridge's Fitzwilliam Museum. That's a pretty good club to be a member of!

And lest we find all this talk of museums and exclusive clubs a bit too posh, there's a related phenomenon that I am quite sure plays a large role in my love for prints: they're numbered. "Artemis", for instance, is numbered 68/90 (the 68th example from the edition of 90). And I love those numbers.

Why? Well, you see, long before I was an art collector, I was a baseball card collector. That was my big childhood hobby, and while I've long since gotten out of that game, I still have my old collection. Interestingly, even as a child one of my favorite things to collect were vintage cards from the 1950s and 60s. But in terms of contemporary cards, the coolest ones were the rare inserts. And the coolest of the inserts were the cards with an individual serial number.

We in the baseball card collecting biz were very naive when this started to become a thing. The 1998 SPx Finite set's common cards were individually numbered to 9000 -- huge, by art world standards, but I remember thinking it was the coolest thing in the world. And of course, some cards were rarer, and some were a lot rarer. I have a Greg Maddux numbered to 11 and a Scott Rolen numbered to 25 that I kept in a bank deposit box for decades, less because of their value than because I was freaked out at the prospect of losing them.

Anyway, the point is that seeing a limited edition print numbered X of Y pulls on a deep, deep well of childhood excitement and enthusiasm and nostalgia. A painting may be unique, but it doesn't have the number attached to it. And while that might not be the most sophisticated impetus for a collecting interest, I think there are worse grounds for a building a hobby than that.