The Wily Filipino

Goodbye, Mr. Noodle.

The actor Michael Jeter was found dead in his Hollywood Hills home. He was 50.

What the Military Taught Me.

My brother recently posted his thoughts on ROTC. I was actually a cadet officer in my fourth year of high school (and a cadet officer candidate -- as member of the Cadet Officer Candidate Corps, or COCC -- in my third year).

I could write about this longer, but the fact of the matter is: I hated every minute of it (COCC, Citizens' Army Training, and Citizens' Military Training) and still think it was an absolute waste of my time. I joined probably because I was insecure and wanted some affirmation (or to exercise some authority), and I can now assert that my time would have been better spent reading books or playing computer games or listening to music. Or something.

Almost every day of my junior year I would have to greet every cadet officer with a "Sir, good morning, Sir!" or a "Sir, good afternoon, Sir!" I was made to do push-ups every day (either in public or on the urine-slick bathroom floor), I cleaned the commandant's office, I drank chili pepper-infused water, I ate lunch underneath a table, I had to wear a dress, and I was regularly called "stupid," "maggot," "faggot" -- all the happy, daily indignities that one had to suffer for the sake of "military discipline" ("the state of subordination under a military command," involving "the ready subordination of the individual for the good of the group," or something like that -- we had to memorize paragraphs and paragraphs of military handbook stuff as well). Okay, so I was pretty darn fit as well, having to do the dreaded Army dozen regularly. And I had to wear a long-sleeved shirt and tie every Friday -- and a buzz cut and black leather shoes the rest of the time -- but that was about it. (Thank God physical contact was phased out before I joined, otherwise my ass would have been paddled, that's for sure.) And to Cecille, the woman who was directly in command: we hated you, we loved you, but it was all Stockholm syndrome at that point.

I was miserable, as you can imagine, but I was determined to finish and not be called a quitter. I finally did finish the year-long program, at some point, learning all about rifle drills and how to assemble and disassemble rifles and whatnot, but there was no heavenly moment of catharsis -- all I remember was one of my batchmates, Johnny, weeping, snot running out of his nose, vowing to make his subordinates-to-be suffer like he had done. That, I think, said it all. It was really nothing but a glorified Filipino college fraternity, with the initiates subject to the petty whims of the older "brods," except that we didn't drink or lose our virginities to hookers.

A couple more of my batchmates ended up joining the Philippine Military Academy and were shipped out straight to Mindanao. Christopher returned to Los Banos in a coffin. Randolph had an illustrious career at the Academy -- and this is simply totally hearsay (although Randolph, if you're reading this somewhere out there, alive or dead, I don't give a fuck what you think) -- electrocuting POW's testicles (or it may have been pledges' testicles, I can't remember which) with such high voltage that he would blow fuses all throughout the barracks.

But I digress. Being a cadet officer in my fourth year gained me nothing; Randolph gleefully assigned every thug in my year to Military Police, and assigned me as the MP head. All I got for this was lotsa yuks behind my back (and to my face) and a dousing in a steel drum full of stagnant rainwater for my efforts.

By the time I got to college I was already pissed off at the military, and the prospect of compulsory military training (for men only) every single Saturday for two more years was disheartening -- especially since I'd heard it all before. And so it went: the endless marching and rifle drills, the pointless lectures on military history and discipline, being yelled at by company leaders who called us "goddamn shitheads" so that we could learn to respect them -- all for the service of the nation and eventual battle with the Muslims in the South and the Commies... well, everywhere (more about this some other time, as my involvement in the school paper got me deeper into the left). Some folks who tried to duck out -- this poor Jehovah's Witness, a couple of male models who couldn't get a buzz cut -- ended up not being able to graduate until they got their units.

At some point I wrote a rather critical opinion piece on the military college requirement in the UPLB Perspective, and was later pulled out of my platoon one Saturday for an audience with the commandant at the grandstand. (My friend Edwin was waiting and merely corrected my use of "khaki" -- it was "fatigue" -- but I understood what my being singled out meant.)

To this day I can't think of a more profound waste of time in every possible way.

Merzbow's Remblandt Assemblage.

Okay, now it's sounding more interesting. This album comes pretty much out of left field -- it's noisy, all right, but it seems philosophically closer to AMM-like improv. The disjunctions between the sound ideas remind one of a Nurse With Wound album -- done in one take! There's a toilet flushing, there's random squelches and squalls, more cutlery-shaking, and so on. But the last 15 minutes are spent on a totally self-indulgent guitar solo (or rather, prepared guitar solo) which does not really go anywhere.

Merzbow's Metal Acoustic Music.

A little better, but this also works on the electric-hum-in-one-channel and whatever-else-in-another principle, which isn't very interesting. At one point there's plinky-plonky guitar, at another it sounds as if he recorded himself leaving his keyboard, walking to the kitchen, and rummaging a drawer (presumably to look for the same spoon he used in OM Electrique. All for 46 minutes! I can't even remember anymore whether this is the one where he blows raspberries...

Merzbow's OM Electrique.

This does not bode very well for the rest of the Merzbox -- though like John Zorn's Early Recordings album, the point was to release really early stuff (here, from 1979).

In any case, it's not uninteresting, but it's still not the Merzbow I know and love. This is fairly minimalist. The first 40 minutes are of this hum and what sounds like Masami Akita beating on a pipe with a spoon. Yes, 40 minutes -- there are little changes in rhythm (not that there was really any) and there is some squelchy stuff every now and then, but all in all the title track (parts one and two) is pretty intense in its single-mindedness. (The other tracks features more drone and a poorly-executed drum solo -- the sound, really, of someone who knows how to play drums but is in this case trying to sound haphazard about it.)

It's the hum that is the most telling, and shows the noise in his future: it's not a nice, om-like, Lull drone, nor even an Alan Lamb electrical hum, but it's a deep, grinding, slightly metallic buzz that makes your teeth hurt. At any moment you almost expect William Bennett to yell "My cock's on fire!"

BlogShares

According to BlogShares -- and thanks to largehearted boy, who was almost singlehandedly responsible for what seemed like a few hundred visits to my blog a few days ago -- my blog is worth $193.48.

Way To Go, Men!

I'm feeling, like, all inspired and stuff and thought I'd single out Sgt. Mark Redmond and Sgt. Eric Schrumpf as soldiers who need our support. You the man!

As the New York Times wrote:

Like many soldiers here... Sergeant Redmond said he did not expect the Iraqis to resist so doggedly.

"I expected a lot more people to surrender," he said. "From all the reports we got, I thought they would all capitulate."

In the three days that followed, they did not, and he fired every weapon on his Humvee, including a 50-caliber machine gun, his M-4 rifle and a grenade launcher ? everything except the shoulder-fired antitank missile. Many of the Iraqis, he said, attacked headlong into the cutting fire of tanks and Bradley fighting vehicles.

"I wouldn't call it bravery," he said. "I'd call it stupidity. We value a soldier's life so much more than they do. I mean, an AK-47 isn't going to do nothing against a Bradley. I'd love to know what Saddam is telling his people."

Maybe Saddam is telling his people to defend their homeland from invasion... but wait! We have to support the troops!

Dude, I am totally not voting you off the island!

And here's Sgt. Schrumpf -- totally my kind of guy!

"We had a great day," Sergeant Schrumpf said. "We killed a lot of people."

Awright! Man, what else kind of support do you need?

And here's Sgt. Schrumpf again:

...in the heat of a firefight... when the calculus often warps, a shot not taken in one set of circumstances may suddenly present itself as a life-or-death necessity.

"We dropped a few civilians," Sergeant Schrumpf said, "but what do you do?"

To illustrate, the sergeant offered a pair of examples from earlier in the week.

"There was one Iraqi soldier, and 25 women and children," he said, "I didn't take the shot."

But more than once, Sergeant Schrumpf said, he faced a different choice: one Iraqi soldier standing among two or three civilians. He recalled one such incident, in which he and other men in his unit opened fire. He recalled watching one of the women standing near the Iraqi soldier go down.

"I'm sorry," the sergeant said. "But the chick was in the way."

Blam! Move over, woman!

Sgt. Schrumpf, I am so totally buying you a cold beer when you get back!

The 100 Singles You Must Own.

My latest issue of Mojo magazine arrived today, and with it came a little insert called "Mojo Ultimate Jukebox: The 100 Singles You Must Own" (selected by Jon Savage, Lenny Kaye, Nicks Hornby and Tosches, and a bunch of other folks):

Their only real criteria was that they had to have been originally available on 7-inch vinyl, with a good b-side... Their choices aren't particularly surprising, given Mojo's predilection for the '60s and '70s -- and, uh, The White Stripes ("Fell in Love with a Girl" is #68).

I'll just list the top 10 here:

10. The Beatles: Paperback Writer
9. Booker T. and The MGs: Green Onions
8. ? and The Mysterians: 96 Tears
7. Link Wray and His Raymen: Rumble
6. Desmond Dekker and The Aces: Israelites
5. Smokey Robinson and The Miracles: I Don't Blame You At All
4. The Rolling Stones: Jumpin' Jack Flash
3. The Sex Pistols: Holidays in the Sun
2. Elvis Presley: (Marie's The Name) His Latest Flame
1. The Kingsmen: Louie Louie

As Hornby writes:

The glory of the 45 is that you don't have to be Marvin or Jimi to claim your place in pop history. You can blaze your way across seven inches of vinyl and then shoot off into oblivion -- just ask The Kingsmen.

(Hornby picked The Premiers' "Farmer John" as his personal #1, by the way.)

Those Bastards at Fox News.

Courtesy of Metafilter, comes a link to the North Jersey News, relating how the Fox News headquarters on Sixth Avenue in Manhattan had its news ticker -- not running its own biased war updates this time -- actually taunting anti-war protesters:

"War protester auditions here today ... thanks for coming!" read one message. "Who won your right to show up here today?" another questioned. "Protesters or soldiers?"

Said a third: "How do you keep a war protester in suspense? Ignore them."

Still another read: "Attention protesters: the Michael Moore Fan Club meets Thursday at a phone booth at Sixth Avenue and 50th Street."

And people have the gall to complain about "the liberal media."

Fill 'er up!

The following story got buried deep -- way deep -- in the business section of the New York Times yesterday. I was flipping through the paper while blowing on Izzy's food and trying to cool it down when I stumbled upon this article.

The 101st Airborne Division, it seems, has called its army depots in central Iraq Forward Operating Base Shell and Forward Operating Base Exxon -- again, this is not an Onion story.

The real kicker was the response of an Exxon Mobil spokesperson, who said:

"My first reaction when I saw it was this was not a political statement in any way by the men and women of 101st," Mr. Cirigliano said. "I think the 101st was being pretty creative and naming things after what reminds them of home. And I think that's pretty neat."

Pinoy Slang

Courtesy of my brother's blog, Bulletproof Vest, comes Pinoy Slang. Nowhere else on the web will you get goodies like this:

himutong (verb):

himas utong || to caress someone's nipples

Frustrations, Part II.

Over the weekend my good friend Romeo (who I hadn't spoken to in ages) was on the phone with me. He casually mentioned that he was supporting the war, and I just flew off the handle, ranting about Iraqi blood fueling his Honda CRV. Romeo calmly told me that he didn't want to argue about this now, and that, changing the subject, he wanted to see more pictures on my blog.

I felt a little bad. But then I responded with this, obviously to goad him further.

So the other day, he wrote me this letter (some things snipped as per his request):

I meant pictures of you and your family, hindi ng guerra. Cool ka lang. I hear na sobra kang involved sa mga rally at napagbubuhusan mo ng oras ito. Kudos sa iyo and that you are passionate about what you stand for. Ako may stance, pero hindi masyadong passionate, so do not expect a big debate from me.

I wouldn't let this war be the reason na mag-away tayo. But for some reason your zealous streak tells me na ang dali dali mong gawin ito. Scary.

Kung merong taong may alam how I am just dragging my feet day to day to get some semblance of happiness and try to survive and not end up in the streets, then maybe you'd think twice bago ilagay sa konsyensya ko at ng kotse ko ang guerra. And if I could get technical about it, I wouldn't be surprised if mas matipid ang kotse ko sa gas kaysa sa Volvo mo. Bark on the huge Fords, Chevy's and Jeeps. It's a Honda, Benito!

...

I was with Happy and Clarissa over the week-end and ang saya. Napabalik tuloy ako ng extra day and stayed with them. Had a warm cooked meal, dessert, lots of coffee and a lot of laughs.

Ganiyan lang ang kaligayahan ko -- being around good friends like you guys. Walang stability ang buhay ko para gawing sentro ng buhay ko ngayon ang guerra.

...

Pasensiya ka na if there is some bite to this note pero nagulat lang ako talaga sa sermon mo sa akin sa phone plus that Bush picture sa blog mo. I am sure kung mas mahinahon mong ibigay sa akin ang iyong panig eh you will be able to sway me, as usual. Iba lang talaga ang dating mo.

I hate Bush's guts, FYI.

Sige. Ingat.

Later on he added that he thought that something or someone had "possessed" me, and that he was "scared" by the way my mind was going.

Well, maybe I'm the one who's scared. I'm scared of the terrorist reprisals that the CIA has already warned about, that the Bush administration is practically begging for. I'm scared that I won't be able to protect my family when the next terrorist attack comes about. I'm scared that my rights as an immigrant of the Philippines -- yes, one of those al-Qaeda-associated countries -- will be curtailed.

And maybe I'm furious and frustrated that people -- not Romeo personally -- can support killing anyone, or allowing American soldiers to be killed, to secure access to oil. I'm angry that people seem to think that that's fine. I'm mad that people still can't seem to see through the lies and disinformation that Bush and the media have been feeding the American public, and that people are still standing behind their president just because he's the president. I'm pissed that all you see on TV are retired generals and snazzy computer maps and light shows over Baghdad, and not the human costs of war. I'm fuming that the U.S. government can easily flout international law and think that they can get away with it, much as they've been getting away with it for the last two centuries or so. I'm enraged that people don't see that the U.S. economy is going to hell and that they're not questioning why they may be about to lose their jobs or have their mortgages foreclosed while a few billion dollars are spent every month on this unjust war.

Yes, I have to worry about my job and my work and my family too, as do everyone else. And yes, they are my priorities too. But so is fighting against this war, and all I've really done so far is post on my blog, speak at anti-war rallies (once), and rant and rave in front of my students.

But Romeo was also right.

I was totally out of line to jump on him like that; it was certainly not the right way to try to convince him of anything, for starters. I didn't even ask him why he supported the war -- maybe I don't really want to know -- and I just forged on and attacked him personally. No, I did not know how he was doing, or what he had to do in order to simply survive and not get fired; I wasn't interested, and I was wrong. And, as he put it, he hated Bush's guts after all.

No, I didn't attack him for not making the war the center of his life, but for supporting it. But jumping down his throat was not right, and I apologize for that.

Hopefully later on we can still talk civilly about this.

Way cool software.

Blogamp -- discovered on that great blog, largehearted boy -- is a plugin for Winamp that ftps your mp3 playlist and displays it on your website via javascript. Isn't that cool?

Actually, it would be even cooler if I were still using Winamp, but I'm not. I'm pretty exclusively using Quintessential CD Player, or QCD. Some reasons why QCD is the best (and I've tried them all):

- It can be as no-frills as you want, or you can use all the bells and whistles. (In contrast, Winamp -- especially the latest version -- is totally bloated, with useless video capabilities and such. I kept having incompatibilities with my graphics card with the latest one.)

- You can have a relatively large, car stereo-size interface (depending on the skin), or something thin in Windowshade mode like Winamp.

- It's skinnable, with a base just as simple as the early Winamps' or as complicated as Sonique's.

- The mp3s can be converted to .wav files with one right-click -- no digging around in menus looking for the disk writer plugin.

- Okay, so you can't use those amazing visualizations you can get with Winamp. But QCD has a plugin that will let you play Sonique visualizations, which aren't bad at all.

- It restores the playlist (and your place in it) on startup.

- Best of all is its integration with Music Collector, yet another amazing CDDB2-enabled program that tabulates my CDs. (This, in and of itself, is worth a whole post; it lets you file and systematize your CD collection.) I enter a mixed CD (of which I have a lot) into Music Collector, fire up QCD later, and it automatically reads it off the Music Collector file without having to run the database program.

Frustration, Part 1.

A few days ago we had a dialogue about the war in one of my classes. One of my students (who works in the Financial District) was complaining about the anti-warprotesters who laid down in the road and prevented people from going to work. She said (and I'm totally paraphrasing here) something to the effect that she was against the war as well, but she had to go to work, she was paid by the hour, and that she had to walk several blocks because the buses were prevented from entering the entire area.

The smart-aleck answer would have been, "Well, your inconvenience is nothing compared to the residents of Baghdad who have to dodge bombs falling on their heads," but my student was absolutely right. She was only trying to go to work so she could keep earning money to go to school -- just like those poor schmucks who join the army because they couldn't find a job, or because they couldn't afford a college education.

(I don't really want to write about the whole "Support The Troops" movement -- of course I support the troops (they should be brought home now!), but I wouldn't wear a yellow ribbon because the movement has been completely hijacked (if not started in the first place) by real pro-war hawks. Instead, I'll post a link to a debate on the Bitter Shack of Resentment blog.)

(There's another angle to this as well: namely, the difficulty in sympathizing with the soldiers interviewed on CNN and Time who, on the eve of war, would be quoted as saying "I'm itching to play," as if war were some kind of football game. Madeline would probably say that the soldiers simply didn't know any better, but that sounds a bit presumptuous. One of my other students, during the dialogue, was very adamant that all the soldiers had a choice. Where are the conscientious objectors, indeed?)

Then a few days ago someone on the Filipino Studies e-mail list wrote, essentially saying that the anti-war movement had failed -- that it was beating a dead horse, and that it was time to move on to other things, other battles. I disagree -- as Madeline said as well, that doesn't mean people should shut up about it -- since troops could be pulled out, and missiles could be prevented from launching.

But the poster was probably partly right as well. Bush has shown no sign of bothering to listen to any anti-war protestors -- indeed, he has gone well out of his way to suppress dissent, acting as if the war was a fait accompli -- so why should he listen now? Perhaps other battles could be fought now, other struggles that could only begin if the war comes to a quick end: ensuring that sufficient money is allocated for rebuilding Iraq, fighting for UN involvement in the Franks regime that will be installed in Baghdad, demanding that the Bush regime be held accountable to international law, or, much closer to home, dealing with the California budget crisis and ensuring that school teachers (or Sonoma State University lecturers) not be fired.

While surfing, I just discovered my book, Displaying Filipinos on sale for cheap -- cheap! -- at Kabayan Central. (It's about ten bucks cheaper than at other places.)

War Porn.

One of the things I'm really disgusted about is the sanitized, airbrushed pap that passes for war coverage -- actually, even before the war -- that our "embedded journalists" are presenting. A few weeks ago, Time (or was it Newsweek?) had an actual full-color centerfold of the map of Iraq and loving photographs of all the various tanks, missiles and stealth fighters the U.S. was planning to unleash. What characterized most of the coverage leading up to the war was the vaunting of military technology and the astonishing absence of any discussion of casualties, whether civilian or military, whether Iraqi or American. (Even Bush kept skirting the issue during his last scripted conference.)

And so what America gets from CNN and MSNBC is this heavily-censored, aestheticized Hollywood movie -- one which other networks around the world (presumably because they are not cowed by the Pentagon) have not been showing. (The telling fact -- carried, at least, by CBS News and the New York Times -- that the Filipino mother of Joseph Hudson, one of the prisoners of war, found out about her son via The Filipino Channel says it all.)

To the folks in the media and in the Pentagon: war kills people. Those precision bombs still do not discriminate. You are doing the American public a disservice by showing them something that's even tamer than The Bachelor.

But I'll pull my punches. Instead of those photos of mutilated feet and bodies buried in rubble, I give you something generic:

(From The Memory Hole.)

This is what your bombs do, Mr. Bush.

And to all of you who still support this unjust, imperial war: let this be on your conscience.

The King and Princess Diana.

Actually, more like Diana Krall and Elvis Costello -- seen here (hubba hubba) just before Elvis performed "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love And Understanding" at the IFP Independent Spirit Awards.

The State of Arkansas.

I suppose it's a good sign that the very first Starbucks is opening in the state of Arkansas in May, but man -- what does that say about Arkansas?

Madeline's grandparents lived in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, and I had the opportunity to visit them a few years back. (When we visited the big headline in the papers was that an Old Navy was opening in Little Rock.) Things are simply different in the South, I guess: people would actually doff their hats as we would walk around the residential area in Pine Bluff.

Pine Bluff (at some point, the murder capital of the U.S.) was at least a lot better than my grandparents-in-law's former residence, Altheimer -- population a few hundred, if only a little over one hundred. I simply can't imagine being the only Asian in the (almost literally) one-road town -- especially in the '40s, when Madeline's grandma and grandpa owned the one general store (alongside the post office, the fire station, and the feed store). As we drove into town, residents knew instantly who we were related to; the local pastor even let us look around the small church.

Altheimer is literally divided by the railroad tracks, with the blacks (of course) on the bad side of the tracks. (The local swimming pool wasn't even desegregated until the mid-'80s.)

Later on we went hiking along this ridge in the mountains and were regaled with a view of the local nuclear plant. It was extremely hot and humid as well.

Pro bono professional help.

There's a pretty funny (and sad) "open letter" in BuzzFlash by a clinical psychologist, offering her services to King George II:

Problems with the truth are also in evidence, as in such statements as "I am a man of peace", "I am a uniter (sic) not a divider" and "I’m hopeful that we can avoid a war." None of these statements enjoy the support of your behavior. While a certain amount of lying is expected from politicians, yours seems to be well in excess of the norm.

Yesterday I spoke about religion in class, and how often presidents invoke God in their speeches, prompting one student to say, "If he's a religious man then why he is dropping bombs on people?" So I blurted, in mock confusion, "But... but... he's a man of peace. He said so. He said, 'I am a man of peace. I pray for peace.' That's what he said." That got some laughs.

Protest Records

Free mp3s from Protest Records, as curated by Thurston Moore and Chris Habib, which "exists for musicians, poets and artists to express LOVE + LIBERTY in the face of greed, sexism, racism, hate-crime and war."

Happy and the Giant Colon.

Where my brother Happy (and Clarissa and Romeo) check out the Mütter Museum at the Philly College of Physicians.

Ay Shet,

Nakagaling na kami. Madaling bumalik doon, so I can get you the catalog. We had fun in the philadelphia art museum as well. Ang highlight nun mutter museum e yung oversize colon. This person would go more than 5 weeks without defecating, because of his giant colon. Maaaaaan, holy crap talaga. Wala akong words for it. Unbelievable. Meron syang mga pictures. And oodles of medical oddities -- mga pang moneyshot sa CSI.

And here it is, stolen from the Roadside America page:

It looks like one of those giant sandworms from Dune. Brrrr.

The Oscars.

Where Nicole Kidman rambled on, Adrien Brody showed he was a total lech (Halle, you should have slapped him!), Dustin Hoffman quavered, Susan Sarandon pulled her punches, Julianne Moore shone, Gael Garcia Bernal spoke very eloquently against the war, and Michael Moore, in the highlight of the ceremony, said the following in his acceptance speech (as the orchestra tried to drown him out):

We live in a time where we have fictitious election results that elect a fictitious president. We live in a time where we have a man who's sending us to war for fictitious reasons, whether it's the fiction of duct tape or the fiction of orange alerts.

We are against this war, Mr. Bush. Shame on you, Mr. Bush. Shame on you.

Coalition of the Halfhearted.

Bill Keller in The New York Times yesterday, on the countries that comprise Colin Powell's "coalition of the willing:"

And much as I respect Estonia and El Salvador, there is something ridiculous about the list of our "partners" ? a coalition of the anonymous, the dependent, the halfhearted and the uninvolved, whose lukewarm support supposedly confers some moral authority. This is like ? oh, I don't know, wresting a dubious election victory in Florida and claiming a mandate. It lacks a certain verisimilitude.

Janeane.

And God bless Janeane Garofalo too.

Twenty-three things about Tahoe.

1. Our first sight of snow on the ground (and into our windshield) coming over Donner Pass.
2. Our first sight of Lake Tahoe (and Shelby climbing through the rails and into the backseat, stepping on Izzy in the process).
3. The view of the lake outside our living room window at Holiday House.
4. Izzy saying "Elm" (short for Elmo, or rather, her CD The Best of Elmo) everytime I would try to play something else in the car.
5. Shelby the snow dog, her senses totally heightened, looking out into the wintry woods. (Madeline claimed Shelby could simply smell food cooking.)
6. The look of glee on Izzy's face as she and Madeline came sledding down the slopes.
7. "Extreme sledding" -- where I sled down a slightly steeper hill and lifted off the ground for a second. (Madeline claims I simply sled over a hole in the snow.)
8. Alas, Madeline having to carry Izzy up the long hill in the Mt. Rose sno-play area every single time.
9. That castle-like structure in the middle of the island in Emerald Bay.
10. Izzy crying "Boc" at dinner time until we figured out that she wanted broccoli (this after trying everything else on the table). When was the last time you heard a kid cry out for broccoli?
11. Izzy saying "Yeah" after Madeline figured it out and said, "Oh, you mean broccoli."
12. The horrible lounge in the Tahoe Biltmore. (See previous posting.)
13. The feral black chow walking along the highway in Meeks Bay.
14. Izzy eating asparagus, broccoli, French toast, and most of all, spaghetti (with red sauce all over her face).
15. Watching the horse-racing arcade game at Circus Circus in Reno.
16. Trying to sing that Johnny Cash song and knowing only two lines ("I shot a man in Reno / Just to watch him die").
17. Shelby on hunger strike over her senior dog food.
18. The passage in the Donner Party books (at the Donner Pass Memorial Museum): "Has human pen power to express the shock of horror this sister received when she saw her brother's heart thrust through with a stick, and broiling upon the coals?"
19. The massive snow sheds just before Emigrant Pass, coming down from Tahoe.
20. The little Madeline necklaces, and the Thomas the Tank Engine train set, in the Truckee toy stores. (Izzy really liked that last one.)
21. The snazzy dining car from the '40a at the Railroad Museum in Old Sacramento.
22. Watching snow fall onto the porch.
23. Izzy pointing to the white stuff and saying "No."

Pictures.

My good friend Romeo, who (I just discovered yesterday) apparently supports the war on Iraq, told me he wanted to see more pictures on my blog.

Eto, Romeo -- you like?

Image stolen from International Terrorist.com. Buy the T-shirt! (Made famous because a high school student in Michigan refused to take it off.)

The Command Post

Via The Command Post, a totally surreal article from Reuters, complete with soccer and SUVs:

On the main road running across the plain, burned-out Iraqi vehicles were still smoldering on Sunday afternoon, and charred ribs were the only recognizable part of three melted bodies in a destroyed car lying in the roadside dust.

"It wasn't even a fair fight. I don't know why they don't just surrender," said Colonel Mark Hildenbrand, commander of the 937th Engineer Group.

"When you're playing soccer at home, 3-2 is a fair score, but here it's more like 119-0," he said, adding that the Iraqi sport utility vehicles (SUVs) stood no chance against tanks.

"You can't put an SUV with a machine gun up against an M1 tank -- it's heinous for the SUV," Hildenbrand said.

Link Roundup.

First off, an article on the Bush propaganda machine, nicely accompanied by linguist George Lakoff's essay on the use of metaphor (with a little excerpt below):

One of the most central metaphors in our foreign policy is that A Nation Is A Person. It is used hundreds of times a day, every time the nation of Iraq is conceptualized in terms of a single person, Saddam Hussein. The war, we are told, is not being waged against the Iraqi people, but only against this one person. Ordinary American citizens are using this metaphor when they say things like, "Saddam is a tyrant. He must be stopped." What the metaphor hides, of course, is that the 3000 bombs to be dropped in the first two days will not be dropped on that one person.

Next, M. Junaid Alam's poem "Sons and Daughters of Baghdad," with an excerpt below:

Sons and Daughters of Baghdad: The hour of your liberation draws near We extend towards you our white hand Once embraced by many in vain: Indian, African, Vietnamese, And washed clean of their colored red stain.

God bless the Dixie Chicks -- most of you probably know that Natalie Maines got into hot water (and a lot of condemnation and boycotts from right-wingers) for speaking out against Bush. In any case, here's a fake apology.

And, finally, movie critic (The New Yorker, SF Weekly, Salon.com, The Baltimore Sun) Michael Sragow on The Lord of the Rings trilogy:

I don't think there has been a fantasy film IN MOVIE HISTORY as faultlessly acted, as magnificent in its scope and invention, and as enthralling in its narrative drive as I'm sure the LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy will turn out to be. Friends of mine who've worked on films in New Zealand tell me that RETURN OF THE KING will make the first two films look like warm-ups.

Bush's press conference.

Stephen Zunes' annotated critique of Bush's speech on the impending war on Iraq. (I was busy giving the TV the finger at that point.)

From Michael Albert

From Michael Albert's essay, "Support Our Troops," on ZNet:

Bush tells us to bomb Iraq on grounds Iraq may have bombs. He tells us to bomb Iraq on grounds Iraq curtails freedoms. He tells us to bomb Iraq on grounds Iraq may be abetting terrorism.

What then should we do about a country that has by far the most bombs in the world and that uses them most widely -- and that brags about it shamelessly?

What should we do about a country that is currently curtailing freedoms abroad and moving to do so at home with a dangerously escalating vigor -- and that brags about it shamelessly?

And what should we do about a country that is producing terrorism most aggressively -- both terrorism directed at others and also terrorism which will be unleashed against us in reply -- and that brags about it shamelessly?

More forwarded Christian e-mail.

I'm a constant recipient of e-mail like the one below, but this I found rather interesting because it happily ignores history. It was forwarded unattributed -- it looks like something from a newspaper column -- and it's also unattributed on this page.

(Oh, wait -- found it at the Heal Our Land Movement webpage, and the relevant page is here. The version I'm quoting from here is slightly different. The movement was started by one Vicente "Enteng" Romano III, also "founder and moderator of eLagda.")

I'll reiterate their argument first.

By the year 2030, our children will experience far worse conditions than what we have today:

1. A population of 160 Million
2. Of those, 70 to 90 million (equivalent to our current population) will live below the poverty line
3. Our national debt is estimated to be at US$200B (compared to US$ 28B when Marcos fled, and US$ 53B today)
4. We will be competing, not against Thailand or even Vietnam, but against Bangladesh
5. We will be the most corrupt nation in Asia, if not in the world (we are already ranked 11th most corrupt nation by Transparency International)

The signs are clear. Our nation is headed towards an irreversible path of economic decline and moral decadence.

Okay, so far, so good. The next step (as alluded to in II Chronicles 7:14) is for a synchronized prayer network of 8 million Filipinos during the week, with the prayer meetings replicated on the net. As the writer explains:

We need a force far greater than our collective efforts, as a people, can ever hope to muster.

It is time to move the battle to the spiritual realm. It is time to claim God's promise of healing of the land for His people. It is time to gather God's people on its knees to pray for the economic recovery and moral reformation of our nation.

Is prayer really the answer?

While I may have a different answer to that question, there's no discounting (or belittling) the significance of mobilizing 8 million (middle-class) people to pray.

But let's continue.

Before you dismiss this as just another rambling of a religious fanatic, I'd like you to consider some lessons we can glean from history.

England's ascendancy to world power was preceded by the Reformation -- a spiritual revival fueled by intense prayers.

The early American settlers built the foundation that would make it the most powerful nation today -- a strong faith in God and a disciplined prayer life. Throughout its history, and especially at its major turning points, waves of revival and prayer movement swept across the land.

The British Empire became what it was through slavery and colonization of most of what we would now call the Third World -- any history book can tell you that. This colonization was facilitated by the use of superior military weaponry (usually by the simple murder of the native populace) and the exploitation of "natives" through extraction of labor and natural resources.

It gets even worse when we start talking about "the foundation that would make [the United States] the most powerful nation today," especially since this is coming from a Filipino. What "swept across the land" was the genocidal massacre of Native Americans, not to mention the slavery of Africans and the colonization of Mexicans in the Southwest. Is there little doubt that much of America's capital in the 19th century was built on the backs of African slaves and by dispossessing "Indians" of their land?

But the U.S. would only really become a genuine Empire, and a world power, after the Spanish American War and its subsequent colonization of Cuba (which they gave independence to), Puerto Rico and Guam, the overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawai'i, and, of course, the brutal Filipino American War and the colonization of the Philippines.

Prayer is one thing -- but please, please do not distort history (especially in such a woefully misguided manner) to "prove" the power of prayer. What made the United States "the most powerful nation today" was not prayer, but its military might which it first exercised in the Philippines over a century ago.

The Friday Five.

1. If you had the chance to meet someone you've never met, from the past or present, who would it be?

Probably the Philippines' national hero, Jose Rizal -- by the way, I haven't checked out that site yet, so it doesn't have my seal of approval -- novelist, poet, activist, nationalist and all-around fascinating dude.

Barring that, dinner with Julianne Moore would be fantastic.

2. If you had to live in a different century, past or future, which would it be?

Any century but this one. It's already been an awful beginning.

3. If you had to move anywhere else on Earth, where would it be?

Probably Tuscany.

4. If you had to be a fictional character, who would it be?

That's a really tough one -- I honestly can't tell.

5. If you had to live with having someone else's face as your own for the rest of your life, whose would it be?

Denzel Washington?

And so the war begins.

The war began just after we drove back up to our lodgings in Tahoe Vista from Emerald Bay. Izzy was a little clingy, so Madeline had to sit with her in the back of the car most of the time. I was trying to take pictures of the two (with Emerald Bay as the backdrop), but Shelby kept pulling with her leash and I am now afraid that most of the photos I took were all afflicted with camera shake (or rather, dog shake).

I totally enjoyed spring break, but a little part of me wishes I were in San Francisco and actually protesting the war. Alas, I am pessimistic and see no reason why Bush would listen to a smaller group of protesters blocking the Financial District, much more the 10 million or so who protested around the world last month.

Today I received a letter from a former student relating how she was hit in the stomach with a club by a police officer in downtown SF. The country is beginning to look more and more like a police state.

Part of my wishing I were in SF is also because the whole thing fuels my anger: earlier this week, in the dingy lounge of the Tahoe Biltmore (we had stopped for some hot chocolate) I overheard this gray-haired woman tell her husband, "48-hour ultimatum! We should just go and bomb the hell out of those people!" Lovely. Maybe someday "those people" can come over and bomb your Irish ass. (Note to any readers of Irish descent: the woman happened to be all dressed in green with about half a dozen buttons with leprechauns and four-leaf clovers, as it was St. Patrick's Day. And yes, she happened to look absolutely silly.)

It was odd, in any case, watching TV in the lodge (staring at the same Baghdad freeway) with the beauty of Lake Tahoe as a natural backdrop in the big picture window.

The Sea And Cake

Saw The Sea And Cake in concert last night with my friend Jens; like Stereolab, The Sea And Cake totally rawk live. Their records, including the new one, One Bedroom, have always sounded, well, delicate, and Sam Prekop's voice on the latest album sounds about an octave higher than on the previous ones. But in concert, they consistently hit this muscular, Neu!-ish groove, mostly aided by John McEntire's drumming. (McEntire looks really dweeby -- so do the rest of the band, for that matter, as Archer Prewitt actually looked like the neurotic doctor from the TV show Scrubs -- but McEntire's arms make him look like Henry Fucking Rollins.) All in all, an excellent concert, underscoring the meaty groove underneath their otherwise low-key (if off-kilter) pop.

Over eel (nothing like una-jyu donburi), Jens and I bitched about Bush (and possibly alienating the guy seated next to us). But complaining to the converted -- much like the big gripe session I had in my methods class on Thursday -- doesn't seem to do much good.

Another Century of War? Another Century of War.

Just finished reading Gabriel Kolko's Another Century of War? -- you can read an excerpt here -- and it is an excellent, sobering, and ultimately, depressing analysis of the sheer wrongheadedness of American foreign policy in the Middle East.

Or shall I say, pretty much everywhere -- in Kolko's analysis (a sequel, really, to his previous chronicle of modern warfare), he argues that the United States has just not had a coherent foreign policy ever since the end of the Cold War, and that, precisely because of this unfocused belligerence and untrammeled military might, the world is more unstable and dangerous than ever. What's more, Kolko asserts -- and he pulls no punches here -- that much of the paranoid flailing around, looking for some enemy to be afraid of is simply to find excuses for bigger defense spending. (Not that this is new; American foreign policy has consistently favored throwing lots of money at the military as a short-term solution -- indeed, it has gone on for so long that it could be thought of as the long-term "solution.") Kolko traces the history behind the U.S. government's former support of bin Laden and Hussein, and how their current actions can be traced to incompetent and irresponsible foreign policy. A must read.

The most depressing thing about the book is the fact that it was actually written before all the saber-rattling about Iraq, not to mention the impending war itself. Kolko's book simply confirms the sad fact that the United States is making the same mistakes, but to worse ends.

Call for Papers.

I figured this was circulating by e-mail anyhow, so here it is: an actual conference on one of my favorite films, The Wicker Man:

THE WICKER MAN: RITUALS, READINGS AND REACTIONS An Interdisciplinary Conference University of Glasgow Crichton Campus, Dumfries, 14th-15th July 2003 SECOND CALL FOR PAPERS Prospective speakers have until Monday 24 March 2003 to submit proposals for the first international conference on the film THE WICKER MAN (1973), which will be held at the University of Glasgow Crichton Campus, Dumfries, on the 14th and 15th of July 2003.

Robin Hardy's film THE WICKER MAN (1973), which was written by Anthony Shaffer and stars Edward Woodward, Christopher Lee and Britt Ekland, continues to have audiences, critics and theorists intrigued. Although set on a fictional Scottish island, the majority of THE WICKER MAN was filmed on location in Dumfries and Galloway, in South West Scotland. The University of Glasgow Crichton Campus is situated some 85 miles south of Glasgow, in the town of Dumfries. It is therefore in the unique position of being able to host an academic conference on THE WICKER MAN in the very region in which much of this cult British film was shot. Moreover, this conference will coincide with the 30th anniversary year of the film's release.

In accordance with the cross-disciplinary ethos of the Crichton Campus degree structure, and the multi-faceted nature of the film itself, the conference will embrace a variety of disciplines. We therefore invite proposals from participants belonging to fields including:

Anthropology                      Archaeology

Cultural Studies                   Ethnology

Film Practice                          Film Studies

Identity                                 Local History

Music                                     Political Theory

Theology                              Tourism

Submissions on other themes relevant to THE WICKER MAN are of course most welcome. The University of Glasgow Crichton Campus press is planning to publish a selection of conference papers in book format. Please send abstracts (400 words maximum) to Dr Benjamin Franks, by Monday 24th March 2003:

Dr Benjamin Franks
University of Glasgow
Rutherford-McCowan Building
Crichton Campus
DUMFRIES, DG1 4ZL
Tel: (01387) 702055
Email: b.franks@crichton.gla.ac.uk

The Wicker Man conference website: www.the-wicker-man.co.uk
University of Glasgow Crichton Campus website: www.cc.gla.ac.uk

On Tuesday 15th July, Robin Hardy, the director of THE WICKER MAN, will deliver the keynote address. He will be interviewed by broadcaster Jonny Murray, and filmmaker Professor Rex Pyke. Other participants include Dr. Tanya Krzywinska (Brunel University), Dr Melvyn Willin (Bristol University) and Dr. Stephen Harper (University of Glasgow). Moreover, although primarily an academic conference, speakers will also include participants in the original film.

Delegates will be able to attend an evening concert featuring musicians who participated in the recording of the original Wicker Man soundtrack. This event is being planned in conjunction with Silva Screen and Simply Vinyl, who have recently re-released the film soundtrack.

On the evening of Sunday 13th July conference delegates may attend a screening of THE WICKER MAN at the Robert Burns Centre Film Theatre in Dumfries. This cinema will be running a themed film season in tandem with the conference.

The cost, inclusive of two lunches, teas/coffees will be £110 (£65 for students). Day fees will be £60 (£40 for students).

But political theory??

And will there be any papers on Britt Ekland's boobs?

Finally, SFSU is back online. I have all this stuff to send out to my TAs at UC Davis (their final is on Tuesday), and I have to get everything sorted out before we take off. Because of various obligations I'm already missing a bunch of crucial events (including a fundraising dinner and a speaking engagement at a conference, which I had to break).

I won't be posting for a little while, since I'll be out of town. (High of 36 where we're going.) Alas, by the time we come back to San Francisco the bombing would have probably already started.

The Friday 5.

1. Do you like talking on the phone? Why or why not?

Not really -- I express myself better in writing.

2. Who is the last person you talked to on the phone?

My friend Jens -- we're going to The Sea And Cake concert at the Fillmore tomorrow, and we were trying to figure out where to meet (and what to eat -- probably some Japanese food in J-Town).

3. About how many telephones do you have at home?

Two, not including the cellular phone.

4. Have you encountered anyone who has really bad phone manners? What happened?

Can't remember, really.

5. Would you rather pick up the phone and call someone or write them an e-mail or a letter? Why or why not?

See answer to #1.

Courtesy of the friday five.

I'm taking notes on Sarah Thornton's sociological study of raves, Club Cultures and waiting for this almost 5-megabyte file that a student is e-mailing me.

(Note to student, or anyone for that matter: I have a dial-up connection at home. I have been online for almost half an hour. I am very unhappy right now. Please do not do this ever again.)

I'm also listening to DJ Q-Bert, and while I loved Wave Twisters, and have sung the praises of Demolition Pumpkin Squeeze Muzik, this particular mix tape (Buck Tooth Wizardz, cut with A-Trak) is simply too tedious: there's little of the joy of all those UBB samples (although using the Police's "Voices inside My Head" was a very cool touch), and all the scratching seems, well, a little cock-rocky.

[Six minutes later.]

Okay, so it's still downloading. Madeline's almost finished watching The Gilmore Girls -- did I ever write about how cool the daughter and her friend is on that show? -- and will probably want to go online.

[Three minutes later.]

Oh, lovely. "Make sure you have Powerpoint."

I don't.

Whose freedom?

This column by San Francisco columnist Mark Morford must be one of the best essays I've read recently.

As he writes, "Let us now speak blasphemy:"

The military does not protect my freedom. Our soldiers are not out there right now safeguarding me, or you, or us, from some sort of total, '50s-era, Red Scare-esque dictatorial overthrow of our nation; nor is the military guaranteeing I have the right to write this column any more than it is protecting your right to read it, or to protest the war and speak freely and smoke imported French cigarettes and watch porn and drive really fast. Not anymore, they're not. Not this time.

Indeed, freedom in America -- whether it's civil liberties or the simple freedoms of assembly, speech and religion -- is consistently being eroded from the inside; the biggest threat to American freedom may be George W. Bush himself.

And to end with something slightly more lighthearted, I'll end with the complete lyrics to newly-inducted Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Elvis Costello's song "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding," from the album Armed Forces (here's hoping he sings it tomorrow night when he guest-hosts Late Night with David Letterman):

As I walk through
This wicked world
Searchin' for light in the darkness of insanity.

I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?

And each time I feel like this inside,
There's one thing I wanna know:
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

And as I walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

And if you thought the U.S. couldn't get any more pathetic: read this article on freedom toast.

It looks like an Onion article, but I am not making this up.

Spiegelman Resigns.

Cartoonist Art Spiegelman resigns from The New Yorker, protesting "the widespread conformism of the mass media in the Bush era."

get your war on

Ah, the latest page of Get Your War On has been posted (thanks to cheesedip.com for the link).

Blood for oil.

Courtesy of American Samizdat comes this story from the Independent:

Pentagon plans which have appeared in the Western media are now the subject of anxious discussion among Iraqis ? 3,000 Tomahawk missiles in 48 hours for Baghdad alone; Tikrit, Saddam Hussein's birthplace and power base, to be razed; six kilos of ordnance for every Iraqi ... There will be very little by way of return fire.

To which Michael LaMartina asks:

How could Bush's version of God not weep at such cruelty? And what is terrorism if not this?

Meanwhile, courtesy of The Bitter Shack of Resentment comes the story that a subsidiary of Halliburton -- yes, Dick Cheney's Halliburton -- has won the contract to firefighting operations in Iraqi oilfields after... well, after Baghdad and Tikrit are burned down to the ground.

Wake up, people! It's about the oil. And all this flip-flopping in terms of agendas -- is it disarmament? (Because it sure doesn't look like it, as the government would rather to go to war than let the U.N. inspectors do their job.) Is it regime change? (No, because it's not about nation-building, remember?)

It's about the oil. Does the Bush government think the American people are that stupid? Why, it's so brazenly arrogant it's almost funny.

Where I Live(d).

You saw it here first: my last three addresses, courtesy of Terraserver:

Bullies, Part II.

So why is no one reporting on Bush's recent interview last week with the Copley News Service:

Question: Let me ask you about the consequences for friendly or allied countries that don't vote our way in the United Nations, don't support us. Is it true as The New York Times said today, that you're "keeping score?" And, more specifically, what are the stakes for U.S. relations with Mexico, where there's tremendous concern that if they don't vote in the Security Council for the U.S. position that they'll be viewed not just by you but by the American business community as unreliable partners?

Bush: Well, George, I would hope Mexico would support us when the resolution comes up.... I, of course, will talk to him again, and, the – you know, we'll be disappointed if people don't support us. But, nevertheless, I don't expect for there to be significant retribution from the government.

Now, there is an interesting phenomena taking place here in America about the French. And there is a backlash against the French – not stirred up by anybody except by the people.

Later on Bush adds an aside about a "certain sense of discipline" when it came to dealing with Mexico afterwards.

Editorials against war.

Both The Independent and, believe it or not, The New York Times have editorials opposing the war.

As The Independent writes in their editorial, "Not in Our Name, Mr. Blair" (and you folks should check it out, even if it goes over myths about Iraq that International A.N.S.W.E.R. has already gone over):

You do not have the evidence. You do not have UN approval. You do not have your country's support. You do not have your party's support. You do not have the legal right. You do not have the moral right.

That press conference, again.

Questions that should have been asked at the recent Bush press conference (link found at Thoughts on the Eve of the Apocalypse).

The Onion

The folks at The Onion crack me up -- here's an article on White History Year.

Robert Scheer

Do read Robert Scheer's important essay published in WorkingForChange.com. As he writes:

The entire world is astonished that our president is lying, not about a personal indiscretion, but about the most sacred duty of the leader of the most powerful nation in human history: the duty not to recklessly endanger the lives of his own or the world's people. Yet lie he has.

The highlight of my week

The highlight of my week so far was that I gave a talk at an anti-war rally at SF State sponsored by Students Against War (and International A.N.S.W.E.R., and Not In Our Name, etc.) as part of the March 5 moratorium against the war on Iraq.

I was really kind of shy (and very nervous), having never spoken at a rally like this before (with 500 people, said the San Francisco Chronicle), but at least I hope I was able to show some support to the students (as a faculty member), and to be able to talk a little bit about the history of empire (I spoke about the Filipino American War, U.S. military interventions, and militarization in the Philippines). (And yes, it felt good to talk about "why this country has so much blood on its hands" and be cheered for it.)

He just isn't listening.

As further proof -- at least to me, but to many others as well -- that Bush simply isn't listening, here are his answers to a reporter's questions in last night's news conference about going to war with Iraq (even without permission from the U.N.):

Q. ...as you prepare the American people for the possibility of military conflict, could you share with us any of the scenarios your advisers have shared with you about worst case scenarios in terms of the potential cost of American lives, the potential cost to the American economy, and the potential risks of retaliatory terrorist strikes here at home?

A. My job is to protect America. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. People can ascribe all kinds of intentions. I swore to protect and defend the Constitution. That's what I swore to do. I put my hand on the Bible and took that oath. And that's exactly what I am going to do.

I believe Saddam Hussein is a threat to the American people. I believe he's a threat to the neighborhood in which he lives. And I've got good evidence to believe that. He has weapons of mass destruction and he has used weapons of mass destruction, in his neighborhood and on his own people. He's invaded countries in his neighborhood. He tortures his own people. He's a murderer. He has trained and financed Al Qaeda-type organizations before, Al Qaeda and other terrorist organizations.

I take the threat seriously. And I'll deal with the threat. I hope it can be done peacefully.

Q. The potential price in terms of costs to the economy, terrorism?

A. The price of doing nothing exceeds the price of taking action if we have to. We will do everything we can to minimize the loss of life. The price of the attacks on America, the cost of the attacks on American on September the 11th were enormous. They were significant. And I am not willing to take that chance again.

See? He's just not listening. Later on he will repeat the same "Saddam is a threat to his neighborhood" as a response to a different question.

The Congressional estimates for the cost of the war on Iraq are now running at about $9 billion a month; as early as January, the White House was downplaying reports that it would cost $50-60 billion (even though Democrats were already suggesting last year that it could cost well over $200 billion). But as Bush put it:

"This economy cannot afford to stand an attack," Bush said. "And I'm going to protect the American people. The economy's strong. It's resilient. Obviously, so long as somebody's looking for work, we've got to continue to make it strong and resilient."

Idiot. This economy cannot afford a war on Iraq.

And so I'll end with his standard, "faith-based" response:

My faith sustains me. Because I pray daily. I pray for guidance and wisdom and strength. If we were to commit our troops, if we were to commit our troops, I would pray for their safety. And I would pray for the safety of innocent Iraqi lives as well.

One thing that's really great about our country is there are thousands of people who pray for me -- who I'll never see, be able to thank. But it's a humbling experience to think that people I will never have met have lifted me and my family up in prayer. And for that I'm grateful. That's, it's been, it's been a comforting feeling to know that is true.

More Questions.

It's the friday five again!

1. What was the last song you heard?

Alasdair Roberts's "Willie-O," from the Hand/Eye compilation.

2. What were the last two movies you saw?

Zhang Yimou's Hero and -- man, it's been so long since I saw anything -- I can't remember... maybe Andrew Lau's Sausalito?

3. What were the last three things you purchased?

Six containers of Brown Cow yogurt for Izzy, four waxy potatoes, and Lucerne sweet cream butter.

4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?

Prepare a quiz (can't tell which class), write comments on a couple of critical essays, review a thesis proposal, and read an article.

5. Who are the last five people you talked to?

Madeline, my department chair Marlon, my friend and colleague Nerissa, some guy looking for a Post-It note to write on, and some other guy looking for a free computer lab for students.

Update

As an update to yesterday's post: Normon Solomon's most recent essay questions why U.S. media -- including the New York Times -- is still not mentioning the London Observer's story about the U.S. government's surveillance of UN Security Council members.

As Solomon writes:

Several days after the "embarrassing disclosure," not a word about it had appeared in America's supposed paper of record. The New York Times -- the single most influential media outlet in the United States -- still had not printed anything about the story. How could that be?

Bullies.

Most of you have probably already heard about the leaked memo from the U.S. National Security Agency regarding surveillance of key U.N. Security Council members. But such dirty tricks pale in comparison to the general arm-twisting and carrot-dangling that's going on.

It's at least hopeful that Turkey is holding out on having its bases used by the U.S. from which to deploy troops, and rejecting the "$16 billion in grants and loans" -- at least call it rent, you scheming bastards.

Though as the author of the piece linked to above unhelpfully writes:

Although U.S. officials have been tight-lipped about these problems, it appears that the Kurds have been playing the same extortion game as the Turks - - withholding full access to key bases in an attempt to squeeze the Americans for large amounts of cash and weapons.

Do contrast this with the statistic that opinion polls say that more than 90 percent of Turkey's population oppose any involvement in a war against Iraq, and perhaps we'd get a better sense of what's going on.

The U.S. will certainly make France, Russia and Germany (and just now, China, too -- yes!) pay for this big-time by denying them easy access to oil once Bush's pipelines are in place. But such arm-twisting isn't new: no doubt the folks on the UN Security Council remember how Yemen (along with Cuba) rejected the 1990 Iraq resolution that authorized the use of force. And as writers from the Center for Constitutional Rights recalled -- see Ratner, Green and Olshansky's excellent Against War with Iraq: An Anti-War Primer for more:

When Yemen voted against it, the U.S. envoy turned to the Yemeni ambassador and said that it was "the most expensive 'no' vote you would ever cast."

Two days later, all 70 million dollars in U.S. aid to Yemen were cut, and 900,000 Yemeni workers were expelled from Saudi Arabia.

My first Friday Five -- on a Wednesday.

The Friday Five seems like a real throwback to those journals / "CVs" that got passed around in high school -- but here's one anyway. (I love answering questions like these.)

1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)?

I hardly have any time for novels nowadays -- it took me almost ten months to finish Samuel Delany's Dhalgren -- so work-related non-fiction and magazines (particularly The New Yorker and Mojo) take up most of my time.

2. What is your favorite novel?

In high school it was John Irving's The World According to Garp, simply because it was the only novel I'd read more than twice (except for The Hobbit); can't say I know the answer to that one now because I haven't picked up a novel in a while.

3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!)

Probably T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land," which I read and listened to obsessively in college. My folks had a record of someone reading the poem (along with "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," "Little Gidding," and "Ash Wednesday," I believe), and even now I remember the reader stammering when he reads the line "They called me the hyacinth girl."

4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read?

I have an entire bookcase full of things I've wanted to read. Off the top of my head, there are really bad alien abduction books by Whitley Strieber and Budd Hopkins, Aleister Crowley's Magick Book 4 Parts I-IV, the last few Stephen King books, Jim Crace's Being Dead, a little stack of Krazy Kat compilations I bought on sale, a big stack of James Ellroy books, Baudelaire's Flowers of Evil, John Peel's The Mothman Prophecies, and maybe William Gaddis's The Recognitions, once I've recovered from Delany (see above) -- not to mention a number of ethnomusicology books I've wanted to read for my next project.

5. What are you currently reading?

See the sidebar to your left.

In case you had a spare $15-20 lying around, spread the word and buy one of the posts (or T-shirts) from the 1940's Propaganda Remixed site, via CafePress.com. But remember: John Ashcroft's watching you!

Rejoinder to Philippine Collegian letter.

Just got this e-mail from Larry Cruz, President of Cafe Havana Greenbelt about the posting below (via the comments section); here's the letter they sent to the Philippine Collegian explaining their side (and I figure I'm obligated to report it):

In case you've read in the email or anywhere else a letter complaint about Cafe Havana Greenbelt, please refer to the attached response of which is self explanatory. Please use our rejoinder addressed to the Philippine Collegian to counter any adverse effect it may have. Thank you.

LETTER TO THE EDITOR, Philippine Collegian

Dear Madam:

I was wondering where and when the expected savaging of Cafe Havana Greenbelt would take place, having received a few days ago a letter complaint from an irate guest about alleged racism practiced in this particular restaurant-bar. Then a friend e-mailed me a copy of a letter to the editor of the Philippine Collegian published on 21 February. It was signed by Jose Duke Bagulaya, Department of English and Comparative Literature, University of the Philippines.

When I first received a letter complaint from a certain Mr. Philip Ting on stationary marked Office of the President of the Philippines, National Anti-Poverty Commission, citing our establishment's arrogant and blatant discrimination", I knew it was not going to be your usual complaint from a dissatisfied customer. The incident involving Mr. Bagulaya, he wrote, reminded him of his grandfather's stories of Old China where certain places were marked off limits to Chinese and dogs. My first reaction was one of astonishment -- how could such a thing happen in our establishment? Anyone who knows the history of our restaurants or of the background of its owners would react in similar disbelief.

Forthwith I sent text and fax messages to Mr. Ting through the contact numbers he listed, expressing utmost concern and extending my apologies even as I promised to look deeper into the incident. I asked for a little time. I did not get any response. Instead we got a barrage of e-mail from concerned friends who had read the Letter in the mail.

It took a few days for us to verify what happened, from the point of view of the security guard on duty and the manager of the restaurant. Herewith is a gist of the report of our chief of operations:

"Mr. Romy Canda (Cafe Havana manager) was on duty that day (Saturday, February 8). He said the guard on duty does not remember having received any complaint from any guest but recalls refusing several guests, locals and foreigners, due to improper attire, one of whom was in shoddy shorts. That guest may or may not have been the complainant. The guard simply does not remember, it was a very busy night and no one had made a big fuss about being turned away. On February 10 Mr. Canda received a letter from Mr. Philip Ting who complained regarding the incident in which he claimed to have been told by the guard that the restaurant "had a preference for foreigners." (In his letter to Collegian, Mr. Bagulaya has the guard saying in Taglish: "Havana 'to...priority namin foreigners." Mr. Canda says had there been the slightest incident due to that remark, the guard would have immediately reported it to him, this being SOP in our restaurants. He said the guard does not speak very well, is shy and inarticulate and therefore could not have used those offensive words, at least not intentionally. Many guests are refused entry on a daily basis because of non-conformity with the dress code posted on the establishment's wall."

Clearly there is denial that discrimination was intended. Could it be a misinterpretation of the guard's crude way of expressing himself? Did he say those words at all? On the other hand, I cannot make light of the complaint, coming as it does from a respectable source who would not be so incensed had something close to what was narrated not actually taken place. I would take the guard's denial with a grain of salt and lean on the side of the complainant, especially regarding the uneven application of the dress code. The complainant's comment that other guests more under-dressed than he had found their way inside the restaurant is possible. The guard explains that sometimes on crowded nights improperly attired guests get past him and once inside they are no longer asked to leave. They are told to observe the dress code on the next visit. The dress code, conspicuously posted at the entrance door, is applied to foreigners and locals alike.

It is true, we do not admit just anybody in our restaurants and bars, but this policy has nothing to do with race, creed, or social standing. The following are not acceptable in all our establishments: people who are drunk or suspected to be on drugs, hookers of any gender, and improperly attired but otherwise respectable individuals such as those wearing basketball shorts, street slippers and tank tops. Due to the number of people that descend on Cafe Havana on late nights, it is not always possible to enforce the rules to the letter.

To accuse management of enforcing a "racist" policy and encouraging its staff to discriminate against Filipinos in their own country is to blatantly distort the truth to get back hard at management for the seeming lapse of an one employee. The letter writer, an educated man from the State
University, shows the same arrogance and prejudice he accuses the guard and his employers of, especially when he likens the guard to a dog and ridicules him for not being able to write "a decent Spanish sentence."

After all is said and done, I should like to say that we at LJC truly regret this incident and apologize on behalf of the guard who has been chastised and lectured on for not exercising prudence and good judgment but who may keep his job for humanitarian reasons, and on behalf of the owners and managers of Cafe Havana. In a way, I should be thankful to the kind professor for making us more aware of our shortcomings. Needless to say we have learned a few valuable lessons from the incident.

We hope the complainant and his friends find this letter a good reason to revisit Cafe Havana Greenbelt. I would personally welcome them to disprove notions of prejudice and arrogance in our establishment, for no such things exist there and or in any other LJC restaurant. We certainly wouldn't last a quarter of a century in the business if we were not sensitive to people's feelings.

Thank you for publishing our side of the incident.

Sincerely,

Larry J. Cruz
President

Malinowski

From Donald Wood's "Reflections on the 2002 AAA Meetings: A Host of Firsts," Anthropology News, February 2003 (the last American Anthropological Association conference was in New Orleans):

...I should give my thanks to the people of New Orleans for their hospitality. A prime example: ...something caught my eye as I passed the door of a brightly lit establishment on one end of Bourbon Street. "It couldn't be," I thought, but a second look confirmed my suspicion. The flashing sign said: "Larry Flynt's Hustler Club Welcomes the American Anthropological Association."

Wedding invitation.

My brother Happy (whose portfolio on his own domain will be online soon) is getting married in June, and I thought I'd post the invitations he and his fiancee Clarissa designed:

Cool, eh?

"Priority namin ang foreigner."

This is forwarded from the Philmusic mailing list -- ostensibly a letter published in the Philippine Collegian just a few days ago.

True or not, I've always been fascinated with cases like these happening in the Philippines. (This includes that story Enchanted Kingdom in Santa Rosa, Laguna, where a Filipino singing duo was prevented from singing Tagalog songs because -- as management supposedly put it -- EK was like Disneyland, and Disneyland wasn't in the Philippines, and EK was in some mythic country of its own, and so only English songs could be sung. Apparently, the duo started performing and noticed that the crowd was bored. They then switched to Tagalog songs and were warmly received by the audience -- but not by the management, who allegedly refused to pay them for disobeying orders.)

Dear Madam,

I thought it only happens in the novels of Ralph Ellison. But I was wrong. I met racism face to face at the entrance of Café Havana in Green Belt Makati last Saturday, February 8, 2003.

As I and my companions approach the café's door, at around 12 midnight, the six-foot tall Filipino guard apprehended me. He consequently told me that I'm not allowed to enter due to my attire. I would have accepted his alibi if I had not seen white men in tee shirts freely entering and leaving the premises. So I countered and ask the guard, 'why won't you let me in when I am wearing a long-sleeved shirt, while those white men are just in their plain tees?' Seemingly irritated by my question, the guard told me: 'Café Havana 'to. Priority namin ang foreigner.' I was stunned that I remained standing in front of the entrance. I could not believe the reality of my experience. But it was not yet enough for the guard, he ultimately told me: 'Kung hindi kita papasukin, may magagawa ka ba?' Surprised beyond words, I left, bewildered.

Looking back at what happened, I could not blame the security guard alone. Sometimes some guards are like dogs; they only follow what their masters wished. Moreover, I'm not insulted that someone, who cannot even write a decent Spanish sentence, would verbally push me away from a pseudo-Hispanic commercial establishment. I'm rather shocked by the fact that I suffered the most savage form of racism not in a foreign land but in my own country and in the hands of people of my color.

Café Havana's management policy is no doubt disturbing and prejudiced. What happened to me and my companions is not a purely isolated case, but a determined result of the management's view that the indio is inferior to the white man. What happened is nothing but a practice of the company's unstated racist policy. What happened is but a ramification of a policy that is unconsciously propagated by a semi-colonial state, a state that kowtows to foreign capital. Racism, in short, is never incidental.

Any policy that springs from racism is indeed not appropriate for any establishment that gets permit to operate from the government, a government supposedly by Filipinos. I wish that Café Havana's management would amend and reassess its barbaric policy before more people suffer the same fate. For if it remains firm on its racist practices, I would suggest that Café Havana put up a signboard which says: 'Dogs and brown-skinned natives are not allowed here.' That at least would be more humane.

Jose Duke Bagulaya
Department of Engish and Comparative Literature
University of the Philippines, Diliman