He’s a civilian, not a member of any organized armed forces. He conducts his attacks on behalf of no nation, but on his own personal authority. Although he attacks military targets, with regard to legality he’s in the same class as those who attacked the USS Cole.
If you want to restrict terrorist to those who attack civilian targets, I suppose in modern terms you might call him an unlawful combatant.
He wasn’t really a confused moron, he was a maladjusted vet. He was very bright, he just didn’t feel comfortable in a normal life. He was suffering from PTSD and just got fed up with being harassed. He probably would have gone to jail without a fuss if they hadn’t insisted on shaving him. If they had thrown him a safety razor and some shave cream, it would have been a much different story.
Of course the real change from book to movie was in the book, he lost. His old commander put blew his head off with a shotgun
“Terrorists: what the big army calls the little army.”
Except that Nemo isn’t fighting on behalf of any nation or even any well-defined cause. He doesn’t engage in any concerted military campaign - he just haphazardly attacks warships that he happens to come across. He is more of a saboteur who takes on targets of opportunity rather than a military force.
Now as I said Nemo is depicted sympathetically by Verne. It is indicated in The Mysterious Island that his vendetta against colonialist powers and oppression is due to the loss of his wife, children, and kingdom in the Sepoy Rebellion. But whatever their motivation, his activities fall outside the laws of warfare.
Well, surely you can’t be surprised that I, of all people, am sympathetic to people who raise private armies. 
I will have to disagree with this analysis of Sancho’s abilities and capacity as governor of the “Island of Barataria”.
Yes, they treat the thing as a joke, play with Sancho (the sumptuous meal where the doctor doesn’t allow Sancho to eat anything for “health reasons”, for instance) and assume that Sancho will make a fool of himself – they present him with several “cases” to be judged, fully expecting Sancho to say or do something very stupid.
AND YET…
-Sancho forcefully exerts his authority over the “doctor” who kept him hungry, sending him off and asking for proper food, in a way that shows that he is not to be trifled with.
-Sancho deals with the “court cases” very wisely, and there are constant mentions of the people who were there being amazed at Sancho’s good sense (for instance, they present him with a classical paradox: There is a place in the “Island” where every newcomer is asked why he is coming to that place; if the newcomer tells the truth, he is let alone - if he lies, he is hanged. And then one guy comes who says ‘I came here to be hanged’". Sancho says that the situation is impossible to judge, and that Don Quixote told him that, in case of doubt, it was better to be merciful, so he orders the man to be let alone. Those present are impressed by Sancho’s good sense here).
The Duke and others end up getting rid of Sancho as a “governor” with the “invasion” story (as that was the plan all along). HOWEVER, their attempt at making a fool out of Sancho in his role of “governor” fails spectacularly: Sancho is shown to be much wiser than expected.
Most Americans are familiar with The Man in the Iron Mask mainly through the movies. In most film versions, the good twin ends up on the throne, and the evil twin ends up in the dungeon, and the Musketeers ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after.
In the original novel, we don’t see much of the imposter, but he seems to be a relatively nice guy, and d’Artagnan regrets having to haul him to prison. The real king is not really evil, but he is a jerk, and remains so to the end of the book.
And nobody lives happily ever after. D’Artagnan’s death is honorable, but kind of pointless. Aramis’ plotting and scheming eventually come back to bite him. Porthos dies, faithful to a faithless friend. Athos goes off into disgruntled retirement.
Exactly, it’s one of many stories in the books where the best laid plans spring up and explode in their planner’s faces. It’s a recurring theme through them that “people who think they are smarter than they are, are in fact dumb” (el que se pasa de listo es tonto).
With quite a war record of sinking ships, incidentally.
Interestingly, as soon as war was declared in the era of practical modern submarines, we immediately threw aside the laws of warfare at the time ourselves when using this weapon. The United States declared unrestricted submarine warfare the day after Pearl Harbor; the Germans either debated waging it or actually waged it in both world wars.
It may be that the tool in this case (the submarine) lends itself so well to this kind of warfare that everyone is tempted to throw away the rules; it’s interesting that Verne seems to have intuited that just by thinking about the technology.
I don’t remember any of that. Now I’m going to have to reread it too!:smack:
That’s just plain wrong. Job’s friends and wife tell him to “curse God and die”, but Job still remains true to God. At the end, Job’s only request is to be able to confront God to ask why he deserved it. God’s reply was essentially, “I am God, you are not.” And Job says, “I’ll shut up now.”
God then had Job offer a sacrifice for his friends who did sin against God.
Indeed, he was a pioneer of submarine warfare, which is why Hitler wanted his services.
But there’s no contradiction between being a tough military officer and being a warm, jovial, doting parent.
In the movie, Christopher Plummer makes Von Trapp look like a whip-cracking tyrant at home. It appears that he was actually a permissive parent. Maria did the whip cracking in the Von Trapp household.
Hey, she was a nun- it came naturally!
Strassia said:
I agree he wasn’t a moron. He reacted poorly to being bullied. He’s just some wandering guy, but because he’s a vet and looks scruffy, the cops try to run him off from town. But he didn’t take well to being told where to go, and he wasn’t breaking any laws by passing through. But the cops arrest him, and then they try to make an impression on him, to break him. So they get out the firehose, and forcably shave him. It’s that mistreatment that sends him over the edge. If they hadn’t abused him in the jail, then he might have bristled but would likely have complied.
Sailboat said:
Not just that a submarine can be used that way, but that a submarine is practically ineffective if trying to follow the convetional rules of prizes. A submarine doesn’t have room to take prisoners, cannot really field a prize crew to take the vessel in, and places itself in great jeopardy by exposing itself to announce intentions. A sub sitting on the surface is a sitting duck for even a mildly armed merchant vessel. If constrained to the conventional rules, it gives up any advantage (surprise) and puts itself at dramatic risk, and then is unable to take possession and offer crews safety.
A sub could be used as part of a blockage in conjunction with other vessels, and then the rules of prizes could be followed, but submarines operating alone just can’t be used that way. Well, I suppose it is now conceivable to have a sub large enough to carry extra crew that could be put to prize vessels, or perhaps hold temporary holding space for small merchant crews - but it’s still impractical and very risky for the sub. They just aren’t the right tool for the job.
Er, how is this a paradox, exactly? If the guy is sent on his way, officially stipulating his statement to be true, that doesn’t actually create a logical contradiction – just a run-of-the-mill disagreement between intentions and results.
I don’t remember this part of Don Quixote (actually I think I read a children’s version and this scene may not even have been included), but I think we’re supposed to understand that this man knew the rules regarding truth-telling and hanging. So if he really wanted to be hanged, he’d have known that all he needed to do was lie about his intentions. Only a man who didn’t want to be hanged would tell the truth about why he was there, because that was the only way to avoid being hanged.
It seems pretty close to the true “Catch-22” situation. If this man had really wanted to be hanged, he’d have lied. So when he “told the truth” about wanting to be hanged then he must have been lying. Only he knew the punishment for lying was hanging, so if he lied about wanting to be hanged then he must actually have wanted to be hanged and was thus telling the truth. But if he really wanted to be hanged he’d have lied to begin with…
A variation of that paradox showed up in the old school text adventure, Zork Zero. At one point in the game, you’re waiting in line to be executed. The executioner grants each prisoner a final request. If he can grant the request, he does so, then hangs the prisoner. If he can’t grant it, he cuts off the prisoner’s head. The solution to the puzzle is, of course, to request that he cut off your head.
I’m surprised no one mentioned the AA Milne version of Eeyore. I mean in the Disney version he’s at worst pessimistic, whereas Milne portrayed him at best as malicious and cruel and at worst an evil racist (at least in the unabridged versions). I was shocked that he tried to turn everyone against all the Tiggers of the world by blaming them for the lack of honey. He’s the closest thing to a villain in the stories, although the part where he raises Tigger as a zombie might be seen as altruistic by some, I’ve always thought of it as more mad scientist trying to see what he can get away with. Of course this was obviously Milne’s lesson to Christopher Robin of the evils of Nazi medicine. Some of the later stories have too much of Lovecraft’s influence in them and the Poothulu character is just plain wrong. No one should be able to do that to honey. shudder
Winston Smith is definitely not supposed to be a particularly good character. He really is selfish. He does not, and never did, love Julia. He used Julia for his own purposes - and she him.
But more subtely, he is also O’Brian! If you read carefully, you can see that they both underwent the same kind of minor rebellion and proving. The end of the book is metaphorically Smith killing himself, not being killed by an outside force. And that’s the point: totalitarianism isn’t so much the state thug mashing you as the internal death you put upon yourself.
And tbat’s just it. Even within the Jewish tradition it was quite explicitly a myth to explain real life. If thi isall you take from it, then you’re simply incapable of reading something for children, let alone grown-ups. God, as such, is not a character in it. He’s simply a convenient way of expressing fundamental truths. You’ve learned nothing except your own pre-existing opinions there.
Well, perhaps. But regardless, the basic point is that we cannot expect earthly jsutice, and it’s important to see this Jewish story arguing against the common belief then that ybad things happened to you because of some specific crime or bad thing you did - or somebody else related to you did.
Around 1938, Albert Einstein was one of those apologists. http://www.csicop.org/si/show/myth_of_consistent_skepticism_the_cautionary_case_of_albert_einstein/