You ask two new acquaintances to tell you about themselves. The Japanese gent describes himself as "outgoing with his family," "competitive on the soccer field" and "serious at work." The Briton doesn't parse it so finely, saying he is "friendly, intellectual and goal-driven."
     Then you ask each to decide which two -- of a panda, a monkey and a banana -- go together. The Japanese man selects the monkey and the banana; the Brit, the panda and the monkey.
    Like many scholars of human thought since at least Hume and Locke, today's cognitive psychologists tend to be "universalists," assuming that everyone perceives, thinks and reasons the same way. 
     "There has long been a widespread belief among philosophers and, later, cognitive scientists that thinking the world over is basically the same," says psychologist Howard Gardner of Harvard University in Cambridge, Mass. Although there have always been dissenters, the prevailing wisdom held that a Masai hunter, a corporate raider and a milkmaid all see, remember, infer and think the same way.
     But an ever-growing number of studies challenge this assumption. "Human cognition is not everywhere the same," concludes psychologist Richard E. Nisbett of the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, in his new book, "The Geography of Thought: How Asians and Westerners Think Differently ... and Why." Instead, he says, "the characteristic thought processes of Asians and Westerners differ greatly."
     The book compares people from East Asia (Korea, China and Japan) with Westerners (from Europe, the British commonwealth and North America).
     AS THE MONKEY-PANDA example shows, Westerners typically see categories (animals) where Asians typically see relationships (monkeys eat bananas). Such differences in thinking can trip up business and political relationships.
    The cognitive differences start with basic sensory perception. In one study, Michigan's Taka Masuda showed Japanese and American students pictures of aquariums containing one big fast-moving fish, several other finned swimmers, plants, rock and bubbles. What did the students recall? The Japanese spontaneously remembered 60% more background elements than did the Americans. They also referred twice as often to relationships involving background objects ("the little frog was above the pink rock").
     The difference was even more striking when the participants were asked which, of 96 objects, had been in the scene. When the test object was shown in the context of its original surroundings, the Japanese did much better at remembering correctly whether they had seen it before. For the Americans, including the background was no help; they had never even seen it.
     "Westerners and Asians literally see different worlds," says Prof. Nisbett. "Westerners pay attention to the focal object, while Asians attend more broadly -- to the overall surroundings and to the relations between the object and the field." These generalizations seem to hold even though Eastern and Western countries each represent many different cultures and traditions.
     Because of their heightened perception of surroundings, East Asians attribute causality less to actors than to context. Little wonder, then, that West and East see North Korea's nuclear threats very differently. "Understanding how other people think and see the world is crucial in international disputes," says psychologist Robert Sternberg of Yale University in New Haven, Conn.
    Divergent East-West thinking also has produced some tense business conflicts. In the 1970s, Japanese refiners, having signed a contract to buy sugar from Australia for $160 a ton, asked to renegotiate after world prices dropped. The Aussies refused. To the Asians, changing circumstances dictated changes in agreements; to the Westerners, a deal was a deal.
    One striking east-west difference centers on drawing inferences. Imagine a line graph plotting economic growth in which the rate of growth accelerates (that is, the line gets steeper to the right). Researchers asked college students in Ann Arbor and Beijing whether they thought the growth rate would go up, go down, or stay the same. The Americans were more likely to predict a continued rise, extrapolating trends, than were the Chinese, who saw trends as likely to reverse.
    Westerners prefer abstract universal principles; East Asians seek rules appropriate to a situation. For example, when researchers in the Netherlands asked people what to do about an employee whose work has been subpar for a year after 15 years of exemplary service, more than 75% of Americans and Canadians said to let her go; only 20% of Singaporeans and Koreans agreed.
    Cognitive differences likely originate in child rearing and social practices, but are far from hard-wired: Asians living in the West and Westerners in Asia often find that their cognitive style goes native. Similarly, bicultural people, like those in Hong Kong with its British and Chinese history, show thinking patterns intermediate between East and West. That's a model that workplaces might do well to emulate, says Prof. Nisbett: The more cultural diversity and, hence, thinking styles in a workforce, the likelier it is to see problems clearly and solve them.

Reviewed by Osha Gray Davidson

April 6, 2003 Los Angeles Times

It took 14 years, but Bill McKibben has produced a book that is both a sequel and an equal to his brilliant "The End of Nature." Not that McKibben has been coasting all this time. He has produced several fine books and a score of insightful articles. But nothing he's written in the intervening years has quite matched his dazzling debut in which he argued, persuasively, that global warming isn't just a matter of species extinction or the ocean level rising, as dire as those changes are. By altering our planet's climate, McKibben argued in 1989, humans have been doing nothing less than permanently changing nature, creating in essence an artificial world. "The End of Nature" was an intellectual tour de force and an instant environmental classic.
      "Enough: Staying Human in an Engineered Age" is an equally ambitious and important book. In it, McKibben examines the dark potential at the center of three glittering and converging technologies: genetic engineering and, to a lesser extent, robotics and nanotechnology. Where "The End of Nature" described a widening gulf between humans and our environment, "Enough" suggests that an even more terrifying break looms: a technologically driven division between the human past and a post-human future. In the name of progress, he asserts, we are about to engineer ourselves out of existence.
     McKibben is a gifted writer and thinker, and there is no better proof of his prodigious talents than the fact that he is able to make such a scenario seem not just plausible but likely. After reading "Enough," the question must be asked whether or not this dystopia can be avoided.
     McKibben begins by probing the promises and perils of genetic engineering. No Luddite, he doesn't oppose gene therapies per se. He makes a distinction between the two technologies now conflated under the single heading of genetic engineering. The first is somatic gene therapy, by which doctors try to cure a disease, or at least alleviate its symptoms, by inserting new genetic material into an existing patient, usually by piggybacking the new gene onto a virus. As radical and cutting-edge as this technique is, McKibben argues that it is an extension of existing technology. "The gravitational force that we call civilization," he warns, "is just strong enough to hold somatic gene therapy in its orbit."
    Germline engineering, the second technology, is another story. It introduces fundamental genetic changes by removing a single cell from the earliest stages of a developing embryo, adding or removing genes, and then inserting the new cell into an egg whose nucleus has been removed. This new embryo would be implanted into a woman's womb and allowed to grow. Every cell now contains a copy of the new genetic information, and these changes will be passed along to future generations. McKibben holds that germline engineering "will break us free from the bounds of our past and present and send us winging off into parts unknown."
    Proponents of germline engineering hail the benefits of this radical technology. We could, for example, simply "edit out" the malfunctioning gene that causes cystic fibrosis. Who could oppose relieving suffering of this magnitude? Probably nobody -- if only it were possible to confine the technology to solving such problems. But once we start down this path, not even advocates believe germline engineering will remain in the realm of disease prevention. Princeton biologist Lee Silver, as McKibben points out, suggests that once we open this door, we will likely take the next step, removing genetic predispositions to conditions such as obesity.
    This course is more problematic than it first appears. Not only are we now looking for a disease and a predisposition to a disease, but we're also talking about eliminating a condition, which is a short ethical leap to enhancing positive traits such as raising intelligence quotients. Although enhancing human intelligence through genetic engineering is beyond current capabilities, researchers at facilities around the globe are trying to isolate the specific genes linked to intelligence.
    James Watson, the Nobel Prize-winning co-discoverer of the double helix structure of DNA, recently took this scenario one step further when commenting on future applications of germline engineering: "Who wants an ugly baby?" It's a succinct question that brings us from what began as a lofty plea to end suffering caused by genetic diseases into a plan for producing better-looking progeny. Surely McKibben is correct when he writes that "the line between fixing problems and 'enhancing' offspring is meaningless." Germline engineering isn't a slippery slope; it's a launchpad on which sits a rocket with a billion pounds of thrust, waiting for the countdown.
    "Designer babies" may be inevitable, as some researchers believe, but is that really so bad? McKibben argues that what appears to be a liberating gift of technology is, in fact, a thief in disguise that will rob our lives of their most precious attribute: meaning. When advocates extol a happy future populated by genetically engineered super-athletes, music prodigies and hyper-intelligent people, McKibben asks us to consider the experience from the perspective of the recipients of these "gifts."
    What will it mean to run a 6.0-second 100-yard dash without breaking a sweat? To rattle off an impeccable Chopin Polonaise as if it were "Chopsticks"? Or solve equations like Fermat's Last Theorem while simultaneously jotting down your grocery list? What will it mean if these accomplishments are not personal but merely the fulfillment of your design specs? It will mean nothing, or worse.
     Take the child who is a piano prodigy, whose parents selected that particular combination of genes innocently, even benevolently. They loved music and wanted to pass this joy along. Researchers have already isolated genes that influence and perhaps govern psychological processes. How then do rebelling adolescents protest when the path selected for them is now governed by cells pumping out proteins that create particular attributes? What will it feel like to know that your parents manipulated this most intimate confluence of desire and ability? Under these circumstances, will you consider yourself a mere player piano, as McKibben suggests? You may resent your parents, but your deepest loathing will likely be reserved for your gifted self and for a life robbed of mystery and meaning.
    McKibben's ability as a polemicist is in full display in "Enough." Not content t o merely present the problem, he convincingly plays out all the implications. Parents, for instance, who tweak their babies' intelligence would almost certainly set off a "kind of biological arms race," available only to those who can afford such procedures. Those who can't will become part of a biological underclass. Germline engineering will, predicts McKibben, "take the gap in power, wealth, and education that currently divides both our society and the world at large, and write that division into our very biology." There will be the GenRich, and then there will be everybody else. Given that these are heritable characteristics, the GenRich will over time likely become a new species. In this scenario, evolution will be based not on natural selection but on fads, marketing and money.
     Furthermore, McKibben discusses how advances in robotics and nanotechnologies amplify the threats posed by germline engineering. Crediting Bill Joy, one of the gurus of the high-tech revolution, who, in April 2000, shocked his peers with a piece in the influential Silicon Valley magazine Wired, he discusses the dangers posed by robots engineered to be smarter than humans and by an army of machines so tiny that they could manipulate molecules.
    Toward the end of "Enough," McKibben focuses upon the Holy Grail of genetic engineering -- the quest for immortality -- and makes clear the distinction between scientific altruism and hubris. "Our intention," commented a senior executive of Advanced Cell Technology, the company that two years ago claimed to have produced the world's first human embryo clone (albeit one that only grew to six cells), "is not to create cloned human beings but rather to make lifesaving therapies for a wide range of human disease conditions, including diabetes, strokes, cancer, AIDS, and neurodegenerative disorders." But as McKibben points out, Michael West, chief executive of the firm, may also sound reasonable, but once he warms to the subject, his tone becomes more obsessive than scientific: "All I think about, all day long, every day, is human mortality."
     But can we shut the door on these technologies? McKibben believes we can. Unfortunately, the three examples of possible solutions -- represented by Amish, Japanese and Chinese societies -- he cites are, at best, shaky. The Amish may have successfully chosen to do without inventions most of us think of as necessities, but do they really offer a model that is applicable to the lives most Americans live? [A QUESTION WORTH EXAMINING-MAGPIE ED.]Japan may have rejected the use of firearms for 300 years, but in the end, they adopted guns. Finally, when China was poised in the early 1400s to dominate the world with its naval fleet, it chose to scuttle the ships,  but that, too, was a temporary decision.
     McKibben may well be right to argue that with a concerted effort we can, as a society, reject these technological paths, but in reality will it be possible? The end of nature, first heralded 14 years ago, has only advanced. While McKibben has crafted an impassioned and elegantly reasoned argument for rejecting these technologies -- for declaring that while we are far from perfection, being human is, in a word, enough -- the gravity of "Enough" leaves little room to believe his words are not a warning but a prediction.

Re: Rupert Sheldrake's new book - The Sense of Knowing When Someone Is Looking At You: and Other Aspects of the Extended Mind 

Within Crimson & during some performances, I have had telepathic & psychic experiences. There is nothing exceptional about this. Guitar Craft is much
hotter in the "supernatural" department. And, as with just about everyone else, I have had "experiences" of the unusual kind, including precognitive dreams. My
mother attributed her own psychic and intuitive sense to her Welsh blood. And any bona fide practice will develop "psychic" abilities, with the accompanying
information that they are a mostly a distraction from the practice. 
     If a person has no experience of this kind, the only proof is the experiencing of them. "Air doesn't exist because I have never seen it" to quote Bill Rieflin. My own approach, when presented with new and/or unusual ideas, is to accept them as if they were true, and apply them. If they don't hold up for me, then they may or may not be true, but they don't hold for me. So, I engage in the spirit of critical goodwill. Unless I enter a practice, or discipline, and apply myself on its own terms, then my opinion isn't worth much. 
    Ken Wilber's name occurs in the Guestbook discussion. K Baldy Wilber presents a very good general picture & overview of, well, just about everything. He looks for generalizing principles that are widely agreed between traditions & schools & argues that, in any practice whether scientific or "spiritual", the process of acquiring knowledge & understanding is the same and works by… 

injunction (instruction)> 
         application (doing the work) > 
                   acknowledgement/approval/acceptance. 

The acknowledgement, or approval, of the apprentice's work, is by a community of "the adequate". "Adequate" is Wilber's word. I prefer "competent". Those who have done the work recognise its effects in others. 
    Any practice or discipline over a period of years will inevitably develop capacities that may well appear "supernatural" to those who haven't applied themselves in the same way. These "supernatural" abilities are better described as being natural, but only "naturally" available to those who have done the work
- those who have practiced & developed & refined their entirely "natural" capacities. Martial arts' masters are uncannily able to sense when they are about to be "attacked". Exceptional group players are able to intuit the moves & intentions of other group members – as if by magic. Exceptional musicians & composers somehow have contact with the directing power of music, as if it were a living presence speaking directly to them, giving guidance & instruction. 
    None of this I consider supernatural: it merely appears so to someone, like myself, who lacks that developed talent. Paganini was in league with the Devil, right? Otherwise how could he have played violin as he did? Surely it had nothing to do with 17 hours of practising a day? Let us note: we may or may not have innate talent: what we lack is the development. 
      When I was 17 & 18, a member of The (first) League of Gentlemen with Tino, Gord, Stan & Reg, a bravura showcase guitar piece of the time (1965/6) was Orange Blossom Special, made famous by The Sputniks. (This story of "the young Fripp" was told to Guitar Player by Al Stewart, c. 1995). The record had been speeded up, which I didn't know at the time. It was playable, but very difficult. It was only playable, however, if the guitarist had a particular & specific technique, one that was a well-practiced part of their calisthenic. For a very short time (one gig at The Cellar Club in Poole) I was in a band formed at the behest of Bill N., another guitarist in the Bournemouth-Poole area. Bill sat down & explained to me, with a practical demonstration, how it was impossible for a guitarist to play Orange Blossom Special. Bill showed me his rolling right-hand picking, his stumbling left hand fingers. And Bill was right: it was impossible for a guitarist to play Orange Blossom Special - if the guitarist were Bill N. That is, if the guitarist didn't have (primarily) a right hand technique that was sufficient and/or adequate to meet the demands of the piece, the piece was impossible. 
     This is an example of physical functionality. Intuitive & instinctive "functionalities" are the same, but different. The verification is available, but only to those with experience ("adequate" even if not quite "competent") in that field. Developed instinctive & intuitive capacities may have features that seem to be (maybe even are) "psychic". 
     In any bona fide way, students are usually informed that psychic experiences are more often a distraction to, even an inevitable by-product of, their practising. Professional training does not, as far as I know, commonly address work with "energies"; whereas in any way of craft, this is fundamental. Experiencing the energies of thinking, feeling & the sensation of being alive inside a body, economising the expenditure of those energies, stilling & directing & blending them, is the foundation work of any craft. Experiences" may have their value, particularly if we don't dwell on them and merely allow them their place. Some students do have psychic acuities & gifts, and for some this is to be practiced as a speciality; in the same way that a musical talent may be practised on guitar, in composition, in teaching, in record production, each a specialist area. This then becomes a question that is specific to the student, and dependent on them finding a suitable instructor. 
     Little of this is unusual, little of this is supernatural. In my own field, in which I have long & wide experience, the benefit of instruction by several people with greater expertise & experience than my own, and an ongoing practice for several decades, little in my life is arbitrary. So, I give myself permission to accept that my experience is valid; that is, in my own life & concerns, I accept my experience as authoritative. If Bill N would like to argue that my experience is not possible, then I accept that Bill's experience is authoritative in his own life & my experience is imaginary – for Bill N. Similarly, you can't tell someone who is clueless that they are clueless. If they knew they were clueless, they wouldn't be clueless. More accurately, the beginning of knowledge is to know our cluelessness. Then, we move to knowing through different degrees of cluelessness. But the double negative of clueless-clueless is not a positive...

AOL Time-Warner is one of the remaining major label record companies and owns Atlantic, Elektra/Sire, Asylum, Reprise, Warner, American, Maverick, and others.  It also owns AOL, which is involved in a co-venture with Hughes Electronics Corp called DirecTV. Hughes is owned 100% by General Motors.  Hughes merged with Raytheon to form Hughes subsidiary Raytheon Industries.  Raytheon Industries makes bombs.

Sony Corporation is another of the major label companies.  Sony is involved in a co-venture with the US Army and University of Southern California to develop advanced training simulations for use by the Army.  Sony's face in this venture is known as Future Combat Sytems.

BMG owns Arista, RCA, BMG and other record labels.  The Power Corporation of Canada is a significant shareholder in BMG, and in turn has holdings in Pargesa Group and Groupe Bruxelles Lambert.  These holding companies own a stake in Totalfina, which owns an interest in the venture between Hutchinson Worldwide and Barry Controls.  This venture produces sundry parts used in fighter aircraft and other military vehicles.

Vivendi Universal is counting MCA, Polygram, Motown, Geffen-DGC, Interscope, and Universal among its holdings.  It has an arm called Vivendi Environnement, which owns a stake in Fomento De Construcciones Y Contratas, which in turn has a stake in Espelsa.  Espelsa works on mission planning systems for the P-3 Orion aircraft [+Lockheed Martin+], as well as systems for the Typhoon Fighter [+or Eurofighter+], made by British Aerospace.  Espelsa also works with the European Aeronautic Defence and Space Company, which produces military aircrafts and bombs, as well as with Alenia who, together with Boeing, make bombs. 

EMI owns Capitol, Chrysalis, Blue Note and Virgin amongst others. The company operates in over 45 countries, owns over 70 music companies, with over 1,000 artists and rights for more than one million songs. Although EMI seem to have no direct links with unethical companies and an excellent environmental policy on their site they were involved with Thorn a company that dealt with military technology and have high ranking x-defence staff. but i can find nothing that links them with the death industry today. They are actively involved with the fight against file-sharing being an influential member of the RIAA and are also using their market position to stop online retailers telling customers which CDs use "copy-protection" or "copy-control" technology.These discs don't play in many computers and CD players, and in some cases have caused permanent and expensive damage.[+source+]

Many thanks go to our brothers @ CST Records for the cover of YANQUI U.X.O by Godspeed you Black Emperor which highlights some of this information [+source+]

April 3, 2003
Terry Southern Literary Archives Go to New York Public Library
By MEL GUSSOW

Terry Southern defined his mission as "attacking smugness." As long as there were taboos, he said, "art should be iconoclastic."
     Southern's art was iconoclastic in the extreme. As a novelist and screenwriter — of "Dr. Strangelove" and "Easy Rider," among other films — he was a quintessential artist of the counterculture, using anarchic humor to strike out against sexual repression, militarism and political corruption.
    In a letter to a publisher in 1962 about the novel "Candy," the erotic spoof of "Candide" that he wrote in collaboration with Mason Hoffenberg, he said that he looked forward to the "improbable day when the book in its entirety" would be published in the United States. The novel, he added, had been "banned not merely in America, but also in France." In other words, he concluded, it was "doubly hot stuff."
    This is one of the items in the Terry Southern literary archives that were recently acquired by the New York Public Library. The acquisition was announced this week. (Southern died in 1995.) More than 40 boxes of manuscripts, screenplays, sketches, letters, contracts and other private papers are now in the library's Berg Collection, along with Southern's eyeglasses, typewriter and whiskey flask. It is, to use one of the writer's favorite words, a "monstro" collection and should offer a complete portrait of Southern, revealing, his son Nile said, "the secret histories" within his work.
    Many of the treasures in the archives deal with "Dr. Strangelove." Stanley Kubrick and Southern once talked about turning that 1964 movie into the first part of a trilogy, with two related satiric films, "Turgidson's Mother, or Into the Shaft!" and "Muffley Strikes Back." That's Muffley, as in President Muffley, played in the original by Peter Sellers (who also played Strangelove and a British group captain).
    Writing to a journalist, Southern denied that Henry A. Kissinger was the model for Strangelove, saying that he was not a known quantity to him or Kubrick when they wrote the film in 1961 and 1962. The character, he said, was more or less a composite of Werner von Braun and Edward Teller, but, he added, the physical resemblance to Mr. Kissinger was "quite remarkable and a bit scary" because of his "ultra-hyper-super detached `logic' that can allow one to speak in terms of megadeaths."
    And among the many unproduced Southern screenplays is "Grossing Out," about a toy manufacturer who makes a Faustian pact with the Pentagon to produce weapons of mass destruction.
     The film director Steven Soderbergh paid for the acquisition of the archives, appraised in 1996 at $200,000.
     After Southern's death, the papers were held by his estate, with Nile Southern as the executor. Until the collection was transferred to the library, it was in storage on the West Side of Manhattan. Before that, it was moldering in the writer's house in East Canaan, Conn. "The rats had been nibbling on it," his son said. 
   On the telephone from his home in Boulder, Colo., Nile Southern said, "Terry's notion of filing was cleaning off his desk." 
    Personally and artistically he was a bridge between the Beats and the Beatles — and beyond. Wearing his dark sunshades, he is seen behind John Lennon on the cover of the "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" album, and Ringo Starr played Sellers's adopted son in the movie version of the novel "The Magic Christian." Southern and Sellers were kindred comic spirits, puncturing pretension and battling windmills.
   Southern was best known as a collaborator — on "Candy" and as a screenwriter of "Dr. Strangelove," "The Cincinnati Kid," "The Loved One," "Barbarella," "Easy Rider" and "The End of the Road," among others. Because he collaborated on so many ventures, the division of authorship has always been in question. When the items are catalogued (under the supervision of Isaac Gewirtz, the curator of the Berg Collection), scholars should be able to determine, in part, who did what and when.
    There is, for example, "Easy Rider," a seminal independent film of the 1960's. Nile Southern said that under Screenwriters Guild rules, Southern could have claimed sole credit, but he asked to share it with Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda. All three were nominated for an Academy Award.
    "Terry's hand is very much in evidence," his son said. It was his title, and he created the lawyer played by Jack Nicholson, whom he based on a William Faulkner character.
    Southern also insisted on the film's violent ending. Nile Southern said that Mr. Hopper wanted the characters to ride off into the sunset, "but Terry felt there were no happy endings."
   Gail Gerber, his longtime companion, said Southern had left a long paper trail, not only of screenplays but also of "yellow pads written in pencil." He constantly rewrote his work, so that there are many versions of various projects. Ms. Gerber, Nile Southern and Joseph LoGiudice are the trustees of the Terry Southern Literary Trust.
   Throughout his career Southern was stymied by neglect and rejection. In 1956, while submitting stories and seeing them sent back, he volunteered to write book reviews for The New Yorker and was turned down. As one sign of his anonymity, the letter was addressed him as "Dear Miss Southern."
    Within two years he had published his first novel, "Flash and Filigree." In it he foreshadowed reality television with his invention of a game show, "What's My Disease?" That was followed by "The Magic Christian," the book that led directly to Southern's work on "Dr. Strangelove." Kubrick read the novel and asked him to help write the screenplay based on Peter George's book "Red Alert."
    In addition to the suggested Strangelove trilogy, he and Kubrick talked about other possible projects, including a film based on Southern's novel "Blue Movie." Nile Southern said his father also held the original option on "A Clockwork Orange" and introduced Kubrick to the Anthony Burgess novel. Southern and Michael Cooper wrote their own early adaptation.
    In a letter to Kubrick in July 1973, Southern noted that they "have not always seen eye to eye on every ding-dong little consarn or crazy-galoot type thing." He still had, he said, "plenty of top-flight ideas fun-film/wise; and am, as ever, looking forward to our working together again."
     Many of his projects never reached fruition. There are his film adaptations of novels by Nathanael West ("A Cool Million"), Harry Crews ("Car") and Norman Mailer ("Why Are We in Vietnam?") and also original screenplays and treatments, including one about Merlin the Magician, which was to star Mick Jagger.
    There is also "Year of the Weasel," an unproduced stage play written in the mid-1950's. 
     It is, his son said, "a Brechtian cold war play about children being taught to survive a blast in personal nuclear fall-out shelters." It includes "a graphic description of the effects of the firestorm of Dresden on its people," demonstrating that "Terry's ardent pacifism predated `Strangelove.' "
    At his death, at 71, Southern was deep in debt. As his son, who is 42, said, "He was caught up in the spiral of keeping up with payments due." With his father's papers now in a safe, permanent location, Nile Southern, a writer and filmmaker, said he hoped to publish collections of his work and to awaken interest in his unproduced screenplays.
    About his legacy, he said, "Hip, sex, black humor — it is as if Terry invented them all." He continued, "He is an enigma, yet at the forefront of so many things we love so much," beginning with "Strangelove."
    That film, Nile Southern said, has a particular timeliness with the war on Iraq: " `Freeing' and `liberating' people through bombing them is an Orwellian notion that would not be lost on Terry." Nile Southern vowed, "We haven't heard the last of Terry Southern."