Anybody remember the 2004 classified British memo outlining comments Shrub made to Blair about wanting to bomb the Doha, Qatar headquarters of Al-Jazeera? Anybody? It was during the worst days of the Battle of Falluja. You remember, right? Back when "Mission Accomplished" was a the general assumption for the US media and not shorthand for "total clusterf***." You know, back when Bush & Co. could claim we were "winning" the war and still get the majority of Americans buy it.
The story certainly failed to register with most of the media in the US or stir any righteous indignation with most in the US. In addition to swallowing the Al-Qa'ida/Saddam link people in the US have also sucked up Bush & Co.'s assertions that Al-Jazeera is basically Osama's PR machine. We STILL don't have a cable company willing to program Al-Jazeera in English, which continues frustrate and sadden me. Nobody seemed to think twice about a US President expressing interest in bombing A) an allied country B) civilians C) an outlet of the world media. The idea that Shrub would be up for such a strike was hardly far-fetched given the US millitary's treatment of Al-Jazeera prior to the leaking of the memo: the 2001 bombing of their offices in Afghanistan and the 2003 killing of correspondent Tariq Ayoub in an attack on their Baghdad office. I will admit I had forgotten about this story. More precisely, I assumed the publication of the leaked memo was the end of it.
Instead, the day after Blair finally announced he's stepping down in June, two men are off to prison following a highly secretive trial. According to Davide Simonetti from Blairwatch in an interview with Democracy Now!, these aren't even the two men who did the leaking (scroll down to the bottom). Those would be MPs and members of Blair's own cabinet. Nobody wants to get into bringing MPs up on charges because that would be messy and uncomfortable, no?
The memo has yet to see the light of day. Even Al-Jazeera couldn't get it under a FOIA request and if anybody deserves a look at it I'd say it's the people who were to be bombed. Anybody who would publish it also faces jail time, but that hasn't stopped countless people from offering to do just that if it gets out. After all, if you don't have anything to hide....?
Salaam.
11 May, 2007
Poem for the moment
The recent revelations from the Save the Children report should not be forgotten:
Since 1990 child mortality has jumped 150% and no other country in the world has seen such a sharp rise. One in eight Iraqi children died before reaching their fifth birthday in 2005.
In addition to the children lost there are the orphans.
When I read the following poem this week it stayed with me.
(from Modern Poetry of the Arab World ed. and trans. by Abdullah al-Udhari)
My Apologies by Buland Al-Haidari
My apologies, my honored guests,
The newsreader lied in his last bulletin:
There is no sea in Baghdad
Nor pearls
Not even an island,
And everything Sinbad said
About queens of the jinn
About the ruby and coral islands
About the thousand thousands flowing from the sultan's hand
Is a myth born in the summer heat
Of my small town
In the burnt-up shadows of the midday sun
In the silent nights of the exiled stars.
We used to have
A sea, shells, pearls
And a polished moon
And fishermen returning in the evening;
We used to have,
Said the newsreader's last bulletin,
An innocent, dream paradise;
For we, my honored guests,
Lie to be born again,
Lie to stretch in our long history
The myth told by Sinbad -
We used to have
A sea, shells, pearls
And the hour of birth.
My apologies, my honored guests,
The newsreader lied in his last bulletin:
There is no sea in Baghdad
Nor pearls
Not even an island.
Since 1990 child mortality has jumped 150% and no other country in the world has seen such a sharp rise. One in eight Iraqi children died before reaching their fifth birthday in 2005.
In addition to the children lost there are the orphans.
When I read the following poem this week it stayed with me.
(from Modern Poetry of the Arab World ed. and trans. by Abdullah al-Udhari)
My Apologies by Buland Al-Haidari
My apologies, my honored guests,
The newsreader lied in his last bulletin:
There is no sea in Baghdad
Nor pearls
Not even an island,
And everything Sinbad said
About queens of the jinn
About the ruby and coral islands
About the thousand thousands flowing from the sultan's hand
Is a myth born in the summer heat
Of my small town
In the burnt-up shadows of the midday sun
In the silent nights of the exiled stars.
We used to have
A sea, shells, pearls
And a polished moon
And fishermen returning in the evening;
We used to have,
Said the newsreader's last bulletin,
An innocent, dream paradise;
For we, my honored guests,
Lie to be born again,
Lie to stretch in our long history
The myth told by Sinbad -
We used to have
A sea, shells, pearls
And the hour of birth.
My apologies, my honored guests,
The newsreader lied in his last bulletin:
There is no sea in Baghdad
Nor pearls
Not even an island.
10 May, 2007
The Best Program Most of You Aren't Watching
I suggest everybody link over to Hometown Baghdad. This is an ongoing series of documentary shorts about the realities of life in Baghdad as told by those living it. It is a collaboration between Chat the Planet and a group of Iraqi filmmakers and is well worth your time. To hear these people speaking about what all this - headlines and newscast teases to us - means to them on a very personal level is profound.
Salaam.
Salaam.
04 May, 2007
The Truth of the Matter
Look. See. Don't turn away. And try to understand.
This is only some of what we're not seeing in the U.S.
Salaam.
Insha'allah.
This is only some of what we're not seeing in the U.S.
Salaam.
Insha'allah.
03 May, 2007
Girl Meets Boy
US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice will finally meet with Syrian Foreign Minister Walid Mouallem during this weeks two day summit concerning Iraq in Sharm Al-Sheikh, Egypt. Does this mean Nancy Pelosi and the rest of the members of the US Congress who met with Syrian officials in Damascus over the last few years are no longer to be tarred, feathered and called traitors? I hope so, because the ridiculous vilifying really turned my stomach. The whole conference only lasts two days so I am interested in just how much time will be spent on the meeting between Mouallem and Rice. They certainly have plenty to talk about. And, two whole days to work on solving the Iraq crisis? Wow, don't work too hard folks. The participants are supposed to agree upon a five-year plan outlining support in exchange for Iraqi reforms. Although I am not too sure how much reforming a people can do when just surviving a shopping trip to the neighborhood souq is something to celebrate. I hope Secretary Rice eventually finds her way to Damascus to keep the discussions moving.
To those of you who are apoplectic about the meeting - Ann, Bill, Sean, etc. - don't worry. The administration continues to refuse to deal with Iran; 18 years and counting.
Salaam.
To those of you who are apoplectic about the meeting - Ann, Bill, Sean, etc. - don't worry. The administration continues to refuse to deal with Iran; 18 years and counting.
Salaam.
02 May, 2007
Bad Day for Mother Nature
In Florida, if you are building a strip mall or tract houses, you can legally kill a Gopher tortoise (Gopherus polyphemus). In Florida, they are listed as a species of concern (two steps removed from endangered) and on the decline, mainly due to habitat lost to the area's rampant development.
Oh, sure you can try to relocate them, but they just end up killed one way or another while slowly making their way back to their home range. Much like you or me they eventually just want to go home only to discover like the rest of us that you can never truly go home again. For us it's usually family issues. For them "home", once sand pine scrub, is now a new housing development incongruously named for what is no longer there ("Tortoise Trace") and laced with pretentious, made-up street names (Harvard Ln. or Yale Pl.). And we're not talking one or two; try about 200 for one roughly 2000 acre site. So, the polite term for how land developers and mining companies can handle their tortoise "problem" is mitigation. According to the Gopher Tortoise Council:
"In Florida, rather than relocate tortoises, developers have the option of "mitigation". In this case the developers must apply for an incidental take permit, and although tortoises at the development site are lost, funds are contributed toward the purchase of gopher tortoise habitat elsewhere. Gopher tortoises at mitigation sites are afforded long-term protection by the state."
So, if you are a tortoise living under what will be that "master planned community", gas station, shopping mall, etc. you are screwed; mitigation equals death by entombment. However, if you are one of the lucky ones blessed to live in a "mitigation site," even if all you want to do is get your prehistoric self back to your home range, you will live to the expected ripe old age of upwards of 60 years.
Once granted your permit, and you most certainly will be, you can go on your merry way and simply pave over their nests. These tortoises are burrowers and not all that quick, so it's an easy task to manage. Yes, as easy as 1-2-3 you can encase them in concrete, leave them to suffocate, and get on with erecting a new Gas-n-Sip, patio home, or drug store. Does this whole thing seem wrong to anybody? Of course, now and then, one of these ancient buggers throws a wrench in your plans and gets himself in the way of "progress" and then makes it into the papers. And I am not the only one who thinks this is just plain wrong.
In addition to the loss of this poor guy, we may have to deal with the loss of honey bees, which admittedly could pose larger problems Sure I knew they had their function in nature, but I had no idea how important honey bees are to this country's food crops. Anybody have any good ideas for replacements?
And, that alarm you should hear going off worldwide would be the Arctic ice cap, melting a good 30 years AHEAD of schedule. Way to work on deadline.
And, somewhere in environmental hell James Watt and Anne Gorsuch are smiling. Can somebody inform Shrub's people that the Endangered Species Act is not a hunting season to-do list. For those of you who don't remember Reagan other than his funeral.
Good times, good times.
Oh, sure you can try to relocate them, but they just end up killed one way or another while slowly making their way back to their home range. Much like you or me they eventually just want to go home only to discover like the rest of us that you can never truly go home again. For us it's usually family issues. For them "home", once sand pine scrub, is now a new housing development incongruously named for what is no longer there ("Tortoise Trace") and laced with pretentious, made-up street names (Harvard Ln. or Yale Pl.). And we're not talking one or two; try about 200 for one roughly 2000 acre site. So, the polite term for how land developers and mining companies can handle their tortoise "problem" is mitigation. According to the Gopher Tortoise Council:
"In Florida, rather than relocate tortoises, developers have the option of "mitigation". In this case the developers must apply for an incidental take permit, and although tortoises at the development site are lost, funds are contributed toward the purchase of gopher tortoise habitat elsewhere. Gopher tortoises at mitigation sites are afforded long-term protection by the state."
So, if you are a tortoise living under what will be that "master planned community", gas station, shopping mall, etc. you are screwed; mitigation equals death by entombment. However, if you are one of the lucky ones blessed to live in a "mitigation site," even if all you want to do is get your prehistoric self back to your home range, you will live to the expected ripe old age of upwards of 60 years.
Once granted your permit, and you most certainly will be, you can go on your merry way and simply pave over their nests. These tortoises are burrowers and not all that quick, so it's an easy task to manage. Yes, as easy as 1-2-3 you can encase them in concrete, leave them to suffocate, and get on with erecting a new Gas-n-Sip, patio home, or drug store. Does this whole thing seem wrong to anybody? Of course, now and then, one of these ancient buggers throws a wrench in your plans and gets himself in the way of "progress" and then makes it into the papers. And I am not the only one who thinks this is just plain wrong.
In addition to the loss of this poor guy, we may have to deal with the loss of honey bees, which admittedly could pose larger problems Sure I knew they had their function in nature, but I had no idea how important honey bees are to this country's food crops. Anybody have any good ideas for replacements?
And, that alarm you should hear going off worldwide would be the Arctic ice cap, melting a good 30 years AHEAD of schedule. Way to work on deadline.
And, somewhere in environmental hell James Watt and Anne Gorsuch are smiling. Can somebody inform Shrub's people that the Endangered Species Act is not a hunting season to-do list. For those of you who don't remember Reagan other than his funeral.
Good times, good times.
01 May, 2007
Trek salaama wa fursa sayida
I am saddened and worried to hear Riverbend is leaving Iraq. Everybody should know about her blog and be reading it at this point. Read her latest post about the walls being built by the Americans and Iraqi government around Sunni areas of Baghdad. I agree with her that this is a ridiculous idea (see also: Palestine and Mexico); better fences do not make better neighbors is the very least of this issue. She also reveals that her family has finally come to the awful realization that they must leave and what she writes is heart breaking. What would you take of your life if you didn't know if you would ever be back? I wish she and her family safe journeys and luck at the border; luck being all that most Iraqis have to depend on these days. Jordan and Syria are the only countries they can enter without a visa and are thus being overwhelmed.
According to the UNHCR, an estimated 2 million Iraq's have been displaced inside Iraq and another 2 million have fled to other countries with the Syrian government estimating that 1.4 million have entered Syria. Read this article about the efforts of the UNHCR and the Syrian government overall and yesterdays signing of an agreement for the UNHCR to provide the Syrian Ministry of Health $2 million for improvement of hospitals, staff increases, and provisioning.
The US response was to FINALLY increase the number of visas available, but as Riverbend points out one is lucky to survive the necessary trips to the so-called "safe" Green Zone to go through the formalities and paperwork. And you had better have the right kind of passport. And you had better keep your mouth shut about unpleasant things like body counts.
And you had better not be a Palestinian refugee from Iraq. The Syrian government decided the 450,000 Palestinian refugees already living there is enough for them and are refusing Palestinians entry from Iraq thereby leaving these people in limbo at the border. This is only the latest problem for this segment of the Iraqi population; for being treated well by the Hussein regime, who saw them as a way to score political points in the region, they now face reprisals ranging from the loss of homes to murder.
When I arrived in Damascus in January 2006 there was a lot of talk of the refugees. People complained about rising prices. My neighborhood was said to be full of Iraqis, but somehow I only met Syrians. When I returned in December of 2006 the effects were far more apparent; I was shown a tiny one bedroom walk-up flat that the owner wanted to rent for about five times what I'd paid for spacious apartment with a glorious view just a few months prior. The streets seemed to burst with more people than I remembered; the faces and mood had changed.
According to the UNHCR, an estimated 2 million Iraq's have been displaced inside Iraq and another 2 million have fled to other countries with the Syrian government estimating that 1.4 million have entered Syria. Read this article about the efforts of the UNHCR and the Syrian government overall and yesterdays signing of an agreement for the UNHCR to provide the Syrian Ministry of Health $2 million for improvement of hospitals, staff increases, and provisioning.
The US response was to FINALLY increase the number of visas available, but as Riverbend points out one is lucky to survive the necessary trips to the so-called "safe" Green Zone to go through the formalities and paperwork. And you had better have the right kind of passport. And you had better keep your mouth shut about unpleasant things like body counts.
And you had better not be a Palestinian refugee from Iraq. The Syrian government decided the 450,000 Palestinian refugees already living there is enough for them and are refusing Palestinians entry from Iraq thereby leaving these people in limbo at the border. This is only the latest problem for this segment of the Iraqi population; for being treated well by the Hussein regime, who saw them as a way to score political points in the region, they now face reprisals ranging from the loss of homes to murder.
When I arrived in Damascus in January 2006 there was a lot of talk of the refugees. People complained about rising prices. My neighborhood was said to be full of Iraqis, but somehow I only met Syrians. When I returned in December of 2006 the effects were far more apparent; I was shown a tiny one bedroom walk-up flat that the owner wanted to rent for about five times what I'd paid for spacious apartment with a glorious view just a few months prior. The streets seemed to burst with more people than I remembered; the faces and mood had changed.
29 April, 2007
Go Gators!
No surprise that the severe drought in my home state of Florida is having a greater effect on wildlife than on those pesky humans who complain mightily about not being able to wash their cars when they please or water their personal exotic landscapes known as lawns. As is the case when water levels are low the alligator population is searching for some relief and that is often found closer to humans than many of the two-legged creatures would prefer.
Many people in S. Florida have complained about gators in their pools, backyards, etc. for years. Homo sapiens originated about 200,000 years ago. Alligator mississippiensis and its relatives developed about 80 million years ago. So, who is in whose backyard really?
Gators may, in fact, make better neighbors than other humans. A friend of mine who tried to welcome a new neighbor to his S. Florida neighborhood with a simple "hello" was met with the response, "I didn't move to f***ing Florida to talk to f***ing neighbors."
Where I am currently staying people haven't tuned into their own drought issues; they are surprised a visitor like me can rattle off their watering restrictions. It seems to me people continue to think about water the way we used to (o.k., often still do) think about trees: plenty of them, always been there and always will be.
Florida is a contradiction; a landscape defined by water, yet a green desert lacking significant surface water resources. And with studies showing about 1,000 people moving to Florida every day the situation will only continue to get worse. Too many people not enough effective leadership and, in some critical areas, a real lack of community. Period. Unfortunately it's been this way for a very long time. People have been shouting about the need for change down here since before I was born. And yet here we are in another drought, which is beginning to sound as quaint a term as "police action". The term "water emergency" is actually being uttered this time.
In my experience, the transient nature of the population is a special kind of problem. A lot of transplants live there, but "home" is strangely still where they came from; that's where their allegiances lie whether your talking taxes for education or water. These are often the people that think a hurricane warning is a reason to party, not evacuate. They don't know about this place they moved to and they don't care. In writing about the 2001 drought for a small newspaper in S. Florida I fielded far too many calls from newcomers who thought S. Florida's watersheds functioned the same as the ones in Pennsylvania, New York, or Ohio. They questioned why they couldn't wash their car when there was plenty of water in the "lake" behind their condo, which is actually an aquifer recharge pond. My favorite was the guy who was irate because, "there's plenty of water in the water hazards on the golf courses." I had to bite my tongue and try to keep from suggesting he go ahead and chug down a big glass of it; water hazards collect all the crap that gets added to the course to make it so "pretty".
Read this article from today's Miami Herald that gives some pretty graphic explanations of how bad it is - "face the prospect of buying bottled water if seawater works its way into coastal well fields, making tap water too salty to drink." Worse is what is already happening out in the Everglades - "Wading birds already have abandoned the drying marsh ''super colony,'' the most productive breeding ground in the Glades in recent years." You don't have to be a scientist to know it could get even worse there with devastating wildfires eating away the peat and a shortage of fresh water flowing into already-troubled Florida Bay increasing algae blooms. The accompanying map shows how the natural system is supposed to work and where it's not.
There is a virtual Mary Poppins satchel of information about water on the web including the EPA's Surf Your Watershed. For those of you living in, moving to, or contemplating a move to Florida check out SFWMD, figure out which water management district you live in, do your homework and make some changes. And to those of you that refuse to believe, listen, or change. Do the rest of us a favor and, please, leave. Last one out, turn off the tap.
27 April, 2007
Take Back the Blog!
The only thing in my mail cubby was a small piece of white paper, folded in half. I reached in and could see the dark ink of the handwritten not through the paper. I unfolded the paper and knew something was not quite right. In jagged handwriting dug deep into the fiber of the paper somewhat had left me a clear message.
"You f***ing c***. Keep you f***ing ugly pie hole shut. Shut your ugly f***ing face....You better watch the f*** out. Watch you f***ing back. If you don't keep that ugly c*** of a mouth shut I will slit you f***ing throat."
The note rambled on calling me all sorts of things and threatening me again and again to keep my mouth shut. I had obviously made an impression. I didn't know what to do. I just stared at the paper and at the letters scrawled angrily in black across the page. I stood in the student lounge, other students bustling around me, holding this note in my hand, and suddenly realized I was shaking. It wasn't the name calling. It was the threat of physical violence; this was completely foreign to me. I couldn't fathom what I'd done or to whom; couldn't think of anybody I had made this angry.
It was 1993 and I was in the second semester of my freshman year at college. I was attending Prescott College, a small liberal arts school with a reputation as a hippy school. As a freshman, I had been assigned to a peer group with five other new students and a faculty adviser. My group happened to be all guys and I took the note to our next meeting. Their overwhelming righteous indignation over it was somewhat comforting. They asked what if I wanted to take the issue to the administration; where I wanted to take it; said I had to take it to somebody because it was unacceptable. Ultimately I just let it go, but maybe I never really did if it's still that vivid all these years later.
This was pre-Internet (for most of us). I had never even heard of email at this point; wouldn't send my first for another year; my first blog post would come over ten years later. Now you can reach out and threaten somebody for what they say with even greater ease and anonymity. The mounting emotional and physical threats against certain female bloggers, often sexual in nature, are unacceptable. Period. Disagree with me. Debate me. Hate me. Fine. The people making these threats and worse, forcing some bloggers to shut down, have crossed a line. None of us should let things like this slide, whether it's a handwritten note or an organized campaign of intimidation. We all need to rally around these bloggers, these voices; we need to speak up ourselves and fight back.
Be sure to check out some of the other posts in the swarm, such as Blue Gal's, WebWeaver's, Netzkultur (in German), Essential Estrogen, Ladyfest Romania (English/Romanian), Clipped Wings, even the men are getting in on it. I look forward to reading the other posts throughout the day as they pop up.
Salaam.
Don't be shy, please
Just a note about commenting. I know there are folks looking at this site now and then. I would be delusional to say I have the world's best site and doubly delusional to claim I am the definitive authority on things. I would hope that if you are out there and you agree/disagree with me, like/hate a photo, want to discuss or know more, have a good question, or just want to say "Salaam" that you will leave a comment. For those of you for whom English is not your language, feel free to leave me a note in your language. I know enough people that can help translate for me.
And I would love to know what some of you are creating out there. I received a positive comment the other day from a person with an awesome Italian cooking blog in Italian; the pictures left me very hungry and the rest will get translated by a friend from Milan.
So, welcome. This site was begun in the hope that I might foster some discoveries and dialogues; in that sense I hope to make it yours as much as mine.
Salaam.
And I would love to know what some of you are creating out there. I received a positive comment the other day from a person with an awesome Italian cooking blog in Italian; the pictures left me very hungry and the rest will get translated by a friend from Milan.
So, welcome. This site was begun in the hope that I might foster some discoveries and dialogues; in that sense I hope to make it yours as much as mine.
Salaam.
26 April, 2007
More Syria photos
These are some photos I shot in late spring of 2006 for FIRDOS, a Syrian NGO, in four villages around the city of Homs. The schools were celebrating the end of the school year and their completion of community development projects the students selected, designed, and implemented in their villages. One school focused on protecting trees and the environment, another on an anti-smoking campaign. Officials from the education ministry, the regional government, and FIRDOS visited the four villages to celebrate the successes of the students projects. The joy of these celebrations was overwhelming. The welcome I received from the residents I met and spoke with was remarkable.
Universal constant: if you have a camera, the kids will find you. These guys refused to let me get in the car without one last photo.
This soldier was awesome to watch; huge smile and infectious groove. He reminded me of that expression, "dance as if no one is watching."
My role model for growing old. I did not see him sit down the whole time we were there.
The little girl in the middle stuck her tongue out just as I took the photo. She seemed quite proud about cracking me up.
Universal constant: if you have a camera, the kids will find you. These guys refused to let me get in the car without one last photo.
This soldier was awesome to watch; huge smile and infectious groove. He reminded me of that expression, "dance as if no one is watching."
My role model for growing old. I did not see him sit down the whole time we were there.
The little girl in the middle stuck her tongue out just as I took the photo. She seemed quite proud about cracking me up.
Watch Buying the War Online
For those of you who are unable to watch Bill Moyer's new documentary Buying the War on television the entire program is available free online. I am thrilled, since our local PBS affiliate buried it at 2:30pm on Sunday. Again, I highly suggest you watch it one way or the other.
Salaam.
Salaam.
"Affordable" Housing Up In Flames
I was saddened to read in this morning's Miami Herald that Umoja Village, the shanty town erected six months ago in the Liberty City neighborhood as a form of protest, burned to the ground last night. These were people unable to afford average rents of $1200, ridiculous home prices for the shoddiest of structures, not to mention hurricane-influenced homeowners insurance rates and outrageous property taxes. The fire, started by a burning candle left unattended, displaced 44 residents. Residents of Umoja voted on their issues, grew and tended gardens, and started a library with books donated from local students. They refuse to leave the site for fear City of Miami officials will seize the land and bar them from rebuilding. They say they will rebuild and continue their efforts to press for affordable housing and government accountability on housing issues. I truly hope they will.
25 April, 2007
Baraka for Barack
So, I recently attended a rally for Democratic Presidential candidate Barack Obama. He is the young Senator from Illinois who is setting fires beneath many jaded Americans and spreading hope that we, as a country, can live up to our ideals. I am young enough to have missed the 1960s, but to listen to people talk about why this man either has their support or is tipping them in his favor I am reminded of newsreel footage of supporters of Robert Kennedy during his tragic campaign.
For those of your overseas or who simply aren't up on American politics (unfortunately a whole lot of registered voters), Obama is the bi-racial son of an American mother and a Kenyan father. He's written a great book about his life and struggles with identity. Some people believe, thanks to the idiots at the news networks often substituting "Osama" for "Obama", he is Muslim, which he's not. I have heard more than one nervous call to C-Span or whispered question put to me about this. These are the same fools that still can't deal with Rep. Keith Ellison's election to US Congress and continue to go nuts about his use of Thomas Jefferson's Quran in his private swearing in ceremony. In other words, no friends of mine or, in my opinion, this country. I digress....
Our rally drew 20,000 people (later reported to be his largest so far) to a local college campus despite threats of thunderstorms. People streamed through the streets of downtown towards the grassy expanse. Students, elderly, all races and at least several creeds (including the young Muslima standing near me and the Quaker that brought me), and people in various military uniforms. The latter was interesting in light of Sen. Obama's original NO vote on the war and continued criticism; you can lead a recruit through basic, but you can't stop him/her from thinking for themselves (thankfully). My friends attended a rally for Bill Clinton in the heart of his first campaign and said it was nowhere near as large as the crowd we stood in the middle of. The local paper later said Clinton drew about 10,ooo and Bush the Younger only drew 2,200 to a rally in a nearby town in 2000.
As is often the case at one of these things, everything was off schedule. A young woman from the campus campaign for Obama tried diligently to get us roused after an hour and a half wait. I will say the selection of music being blasted over the sound system was better, I suspect, than what you might hear at a Republican rally; all of it could have made it to my iPod and some already resides there.
The first to speak that day was Rev. Dr. Joseph Lowery, one of the greats from the movement for civil rights in this country. He asked us to bow our heads and join hands; every single face turned to the earth as a stunning quiet rolled across the crowd. Even the woman who insisted on jabbering away uselessly on her mobile through his remarks lowered her voice. He voice was like two strong arms reach out around us, encircling the crowd and drawing us together. Dr. Lowery spoke eloquently and mournfully of the state this country is in and what those of us in the crowd are seeking. He called Sen. Obama a "voice crying out in the political wilderness". Dr. Lowery moved many of us to tears with his message. I do not believe you find many men like that these days.
For those of your overseas or who simply aren't up on American politics (unfortunately a whole lot of registered voters), Obama is the bi-racial son of an American mother and a Kenyan father. He's written a great book about his life and struggles with identity. Some people believe, thanks to the idiots at the news networks often substituting "Osama" for "Obama", he is Muslim, which he's not. I have heard more than one nervous call to C-Span or whispered question put to me about this. These are the same fools that still can't deal with Rep. Keith Ellison's election to US Congress and continue to go nuts about his use of Thomas Jefferson's Quran in his private swearing in ceremony. In other words, no friends of mine or, in my opinion, this country. I digress....
Our rally drew 20,000 people (later reported to be his largest so far) to a local college campus despite threats of thunderstorms. People streamed through the streets of downtown towards the grassy expanse. Students, elderly, all races and at least several creeds (including the young Muslima standing near me and the Quaker that brought me), and people in various military uniforms. The latter was interesting in light of Sen. Obama's original NO vote on the war and continued criticism; you can lead a recruit through basic, but you can't stop him/her from thinking for themselves (thankfully). My friends attended a rally for Bill Clinton in the heart of his first campaign and said it was nowhere near as large as the crowd we stood in the middle of. The local paper later said Clinton drew about 10,ooo and Bush the Younger only drew 2,200 to a rally in a nearby town in 2000.
As is often the case at one of these things, everything was off schedule. A young woman from the campus campaign for Obama tried diligently to get us roused after an hour and a half wait. I will say the selection of music being blasted over the sound system was better, I suspect, than what you might hear at a Republican rally; all of it could have made it to my iPod and some already resides there.
The first to speak that day was Rev. Dr. Joseph Lowery, one of the greats from the movement for civil rights in this country. He asked us to bow our heads and join hands; every single face turned to the earth as a stunning quiet rolled across the crowd. Even the woman who insisted on jabbering away uselessly on her mobile through his remarks lowered her voice. He voice was like two strong arms reach out around us, encircling the crowd and drawing us together. Dr. Lowery spoke eloquently and mournfully of the state this country is in and what those of us in the crowd are seeking. He called Sen. Obama a "voice crying out in the political wilderness". Dr. Lowery moved many of us to tears with his message. I do not believe you find many men like that these days.
Sen. Obama took the stage and I can tell you the man gathers cheers as though he has already won the election. He is, indeed, a rock star. He is also a phenomenal speaker. I read that he is one of the few politicians in this country who writes his own speeches. I also heard a political commentator note that he is one of the few politicians whose speeches are typically less effective when written by others.
He made a lot of promises: end the war, open dialogues with those our current government has been unwilling to budge on, make the country energy independent, make America what it should be. It was eloquent, hopeful, and inspiring. I appreciated his reminder that nobody, not even he, can do what need to be done on their own. He called for people to get involved and take action. I am hoping to hear a more well-rounded environmental platform from him; his energy plan is focused on higher fuel efficiency for cars, which is good, but not the end-all-be-all in that discussion. I will admit, I walked away from the rally riding quite a buzz. Hope is infectious. However, it's still early and I am doing my homework carefully before picking a suitor.
I like him. I also like New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson. Unfortunately, Gov. Richardson seems to be getting lost in the shuffle as the media helps whip up the Obama vs. Clinton frenzy; pretty much presenting them as the only candidates. Maybe they throw in a mention about former Sen. John Edwards, but the spotlight is already squarely on Senators Clinton and Obama. I think this is unfortunate; not because the two candidates are unworthy, but because it's still early. This will be one of the most crucial elections in our history and the voters deserve the opportunity to hear from each of the candidates at this point.
Be a citizen; go do your homework and decide for yourself.
He made a lot of promises: end the war, open dialogues with those our current government has been unwilling to budge on, make the country energy independent, make America what it should be. It was eloquent, hopeful, and inspiring. I appreciated his reminder that nobody, not even he, can do what need to be done on their own. He called for people to get involved and take action. I am hoping to hear a more well-rounded environmental platform from him; his energy plan is focused on higher fuel efficiency for cars, which is good, but not the end-all-be-all in that discussion. I will admit, I walked away from the rally riding quite a buzz. Hope is infectious. However, it's still early and I am doing my homework carefully before picking a suitor.
I like him. I also like New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson. Unfortunately, Gov. Richardson seems to be getting lost in the shuffle as the media helps whip up the Obama vs. Clinton frenzy; pretty much presenting them as the only candidates. Maybe they throw in a mention about former Sen. John Edwards, but the spotlight is already squarely on Senators Clinton and Obama. I think this is unfortunate; not because the two candidates are unworthy, but because it's still early. This will be one of the most crucial elections in our history and the voters deserve the opportunity to hear from each of the candidates at this point.
Be a citizen; go do your homework and decide for yourself.
24 April, 2007
So much to be sad about
I folded myself into the narrow, clear Plexiglas lined cubicle for two and logged into my email. Sitting in stations like this draws my eyesight into a sharply focused tunnel vision that renders those around you only blurs of a variety of colors. This cafe was one of many that lined each storefront along the abbreviated street that began with the Syrian immigration and passport office at the corner, near the law and fine arts schools.
Out of the corner of my eye I registered someone new sitting down heavily in the seat next to me; a man, older, in a dark brown coat. In my periphery I noticed him reach into his coat for something, glance my direction, and hesitate.
"Excuse me," he said in a richly accented but perfect English; the fluidity of a second language that comes from living it not simply studying it. "Do you mind if I smoke?" He smiled generously like a father beneath his thick black moustache. He held a cigarette between his fore and middle fingers; his large hand curled into an loose fist as if to show me.
"Of course," I replied, returning his smile. "I've been here long enough to get used to it."
"Oh, please," he implored with a soft chuckle, "don't ever get used to this." He loosened his grip and wagged the cigarette between the fingers in his fist. "They will be the death of all of us,"he said jerking his chin to indicate the others in the cafe.
I laughed with him. "Thank you," he said simply before turning away slightly to light his cigarette.
"I only smoke when I am unhappy," he said, almost wistfully, "and we Iraqis have so much to
be sad about these days."
He was already engrossed in what was on his computer screen as he said it; the conversation had passed and I was left staring, speechless, at the too bright screen in front of me.
Out of the corner of my eye I registered someone new sitting down heavily in the seat next to me; a man, older, in a dark brown coat. In my periphery I noticed him reach into his coat for something, glance my direction, and hesitate.
"Excuse me," he said in a richly accented but perfect English; the fluidity of a second language that comes from living it not simply studying it. "Do you mind if I smoke?" He smiled generously like a father beneath his thick black moustache. He held a cigarette between his fore and middle fingers; his large hand curled into an loose fist as if to show me.
"Of course," I replied, returning his smile. "I've been here long enough to get used to it."
"Oh, please," he implored with a soft chuckle, "don't ever get used to this." He loosened his grip and wagged the cigarette between the fingers in his fist. "They will be the death of all of us,"he said jerking his chin to indicate the others in the cafe.
I laughed with him. "Thank you," he said simply before turning away slightly to light his cigarette.
"I only smoke when I am unhappy," he said, almost wistfully, "and we Iraqis have so much to
be sad about these days."
He was already engrossed in what was on his computer screen as he said it; the conversation had passed and I was left staring, speechless, at the too bright screen in front of me.
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