I was back home in Boston for the holidays so I missed the protests in downtown Khartoum, which happened a few days after Christmas. Ho-hum, I guess. Israeli and American flags were burned, "Death to Israel/America!" chants were chanted. (The "Not That We No Longer Support It, But on the Road to a Two-State Solution, This Seems Like a Setback" chants were totally out-of-sync.)
This link is fun, by the way -- it has a picture of a picture of ex-President Stupidhead being set aflame. Also, someone ran down to Kinkos and printed up a massive portrait of Hamas President Ismail Something. The best photo of all, however, is the one of the protesters holding up what look like cardboard rockets, which have "Hamas" written on them. LOL! I think.
I mean, if the whole point of bringing stupid-looking, rinky-dink rockets to the protest was to signify Palestine's (relative) harmlessness, and to make the implicit argument that killing hundreds of innocent people is a disproportionate response to one person being killed -- by a rocket that looks like an 8th grader's science project, no less -- then, let's be honest: we have a surprisingly high-minded mode of commentary on our hands. This is, after all, a pyromaniacal mob. And pyromaniacal mobs aren't generally known for clever, subversive forms of protest. (They're better known for: fires.) But this is why they had these rockets, right? Has to be.
Because the alternative is, well, too stupid to consider. (That they just actually wanted Palestine to keep launching stupid-looking, rinky-dink rockets -- so they brought some. To the protest. To be like, "We want you to launch rockets. So we brought some. Rockets. Just to show you that you should launch them.")
Anyway, people here kind of hate America right now. I might talk about that soon. But, in the meantime, watch and listen to this. Over, and over, and over again.
January 22, 2009
November 25, 2008
Am I Safe Here?
The short answer to that is "I have no idea." The long answer to that is a longer version of "I have no idea." The blog answer to that, however, is a little bit like the long answer, except I list the things I've been told are supposed to make me feel unsafe in Khartoum, then tell you how not unsafe they actually make me feel. So, basically, the following safety assessment -- informed only by my inexpert opinion and unreliable perception of reality -- is my way of saying to each and every one of you: relax, Mom.
1. The ICC's Prosecution of Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir for Genocide, Crimes Against Humanity and War Crimes Committed in Darfur
This is obviously a big one. A military dictator who presumably believes he's above the law is being told by an international criminal court that, um, excuse us, but no, you are not -- and, in fact, you're going to prison for the rest of your life because your military, over which you have complete control, keeps raping and killing people. How will he react to the news? Calmly and rationally, I bet. The way all dictators do.
Understandably, U.N. employees in Khartoum have felt pretty unsafe ever since the decision was made to prosecute. All spouses have been ordered to leave, and the workers themselves feel like even bigger targets than they did before. They must especially hate driving.
And punishing innocent people is what al-Bashir does; I get that. But having random Westerners kidnapped and killed? Does anyone honestly believe that he believes doing this would cause the ICC to back off? If anything, they would probably lose patience and move forward with the prosecution. Plus, even if he starts ordering violence against Westerners, he will almost certainly see to it that someone important is harmed -- an ambassador or well-connected aid worker or something. As an ineffectual nothing-person with no capacity for world-changing, let me just say . . . phew.
Threat Level: 3
2. The United Nations' Warning of a Terrorist Cell in Sudan Planning to Attack Foreigners, and the Story of John Granville
John Granville, if you don't know, is the USAID worker who was assassinated earlier this year outside the British Embassy. As he was leaving a New Year's Eve party, a car pulled out in front of his, stopped, and opened fire, killing both him and the driver of the car he was riding in.
On his Wikipedia page there is still a sentence which reads: "The attack follows a warning by the United Nations that a terrorist cell in Sudan was planning to attack foreigners." Okay, now read this, which explains what this seemingly related terrorist alert has to do with his death. Seriously. I beg you. Please. Then come back when you're finished.
. . .
Done? Good. So, basically, it seems like the Sudanese government just made up a lie about there being a terrorist cell in Khartoum, then told the U.N. to watch out for this terrorist cell and also maybe blame terrorists for anything that happens semi-soon, then killed an American diplomat they were planning to kill all along, and then blamed it on the terrorist cell they just made up.
Genius. Nobody will suspect a thing.
Well, actually, replace the world "nobody" with "everybody including Barack Obama." Because during a speech in April, on the campaign trail, the future President-Elect said plainly, "Khartoum has yet to fully account for the murder of John Granville."
The point is that, again -- just like the ICC ruling mentioned above -- the most substantial threat seems to be government-sponsored terrorism, which is nothing like the terrorism of which we Americans commonly conceive. We think of terror victims as winners of an ignominious lottery; innocent and interchangeable people arbitrarily sacrificed for the transgressions of their country. The aspect of random selection -- that you could easily be next -- is largely what's so terrifying about it. But here, in Khartoum, nothing seems to be all that random. You have to matter to be a target [1].
I live under the rule of a military dictatorship that doesn't hesitate to kill foreigners who work to secure human rights and set up free elections. I get that that sounds frightening and lawless and unsafe. But as long as I'm not doing any of those important things, am I really in danger? Well, like I said: I have no idea. But, obviously -- for whatever reason -- I sort of doubt it.
Threat Level: Gray
3. Street Crime
Well, there is none. Military dictatorships are excellent for stability. Why? Carte blanche works two ways: Just as a military dictatorship, in theory, can kill foreigners who threaten the power structure, it can also disproportionately punish its own citizens for their crimes. Because, in the end, dictatorships are actually somewhat answerable to the public. The only way they manage to stay popular -- and remain in place -- is to provide the people with safety and stability. But if crime rates rise, people will feel unsafe and the regime will fall out of favor and be more susceptible to a coup. Oddly, then, crimes against pale-faces such as myself actually threaten the power structure, too. So protecting me is in the government's best interest.
Now: Because I'm racist, I never carry more than like 30 Sudanese pounds (roughly 15 bucks) on me at a time, but I honestly believe I'll never get mugged or beaten, or even so much as have my feelings hurt by someone giving me a dirty look. Of course, I do understand the basic concern: I stick out. If building tensions lead to anger displacement, I could be in trouble. But, with the exception of the rebel attack on the city in May, any and all violence here seems to come at the hands of the government, which -- in the event of my harm -- seems like it would be, at the very least, selfishly troubled by the news.
Threat Level: (I've been making these up)
- - - -
[1] Even though my place in all of this is stupendously inconsequential, I'll mention what proximity I have to his memory because it does illustrate how forgivably irrational fear can be: I met a few of his friends. They were mostly NGO workers based either in Darfur or the South with whom he had worked at one point or another. Not knowing any better, I brought up his death. "Yeah, we knew him." Oh. "He was at her wedding," one girl said. "His, too." After about 30 seconds she looked like she was kind of on the verge, and even though I felt like an asshole, she assured me that she actually liked thinking about him. She mustered a smile to put me at ease, but it still seemed like she missed him as much as anyone could possibly miss a friend. She and the rest of his friends, though, I think are examples of people who probably feel more unsafe in Khartoum than they do in Darfur, even though people are routinely kidnapped and killed there. And really, who can blame them? Who am I to "reason" that Khartoum is safe? His death clearly still resonates. If I were in their position, the city would probably give me chills, and its most salient feature would likely become its corrupt and remorseless government, which murdered my friend without consequence.
1. The ICC's Prosecution of Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir for Genocide, Crimes Against Humanity and War Crimes Committed in Darfur
This is obviously a big one. A military dictator who presumably believes he's above the law is being told by an international criminal court that, um, excuse us, but no, you are not -- and, in fact, you're going to prison for the rest of your life because your military, over which you have complete control, keeps raping and killing people. How will he react to the news? Calmly and rationally, I bet. The way all dictators do.
Understandably, U.N. employees in Khartoum have felt pretty unsafe ever since the decision was made to prosecute. All spouses have been ordered to leave, and the workers themselves feel like even bigger targets than they did before. They must especially hate driving.
And punishing innocent people is what al-Bashir does; I get that. But having random Westerners kidnapped and killed? Does anyone honestly believe that he believes doing this would cause the ICC to back off? If anything, they would probably lose patience and move forward with the prosecution. Plus, even if he starts ordering violence against Westerners, he will almost certainly see to it that someone important is harmed -- an ambassador or well-connected aid worker or something. As an ineffectual nothing-person with no capacity for world-changing, let me just say . . . phew.
Threat Level: 3
2. The United Nations' Warning of a Terrorist Cell in Sudan Planning to Attack Foreigners, and the Story of John Granville
John Granville, if you don't know, is the USAID worker who was assassinated earlier this year outside the British Embassy. As he was leaving a New Year's Eve party, a car pulled out in front of his, stopped, and opened fire, killing both him and the driver of the car he was riding in.
On his Wikipedia page there is still a sentence which reads: "The attack follows a warning by the United Nations that a terrorist cell in Sudan was planning to attack foreigners." Okay, now read this, which explains what this seemingly related terrorist alert has to do with his death. Seriously. I beg you. Please. Then come back when you're finished.
. . .
Done? Good. So, basically, it seems like the Sudanese government just made up a lie about there being a terrorist cell in Khartoum, then told the U.N. to watch out for this terrorist cell and also maybe blame terrorists for anything that happens semi-soon, then killed an American diplomat they were planning to kill all along, and then blamed it on the terrorist cell they just made up.
Genius. Nobody will suspect a thing.
Well, actually, replace the world "nobody" with "everybody including Barack Obama." Because during a speech in April, on the campaign trail, the future President-Elect said plainly, "Khartoum has yet to fully account for the murder of John Granville."
The point is that, again -- just like the ICC ruling mentioned above -- the most substantial threat seems to be government-sponsored terrorism, which is nothing like the terrorism of which we Americans commonly conceive. We think of terror victims as winners of an ignominious lottery; innocent and interchangeable people arbitrarily sacrificed for the transgressions of their country. The aspect of random selection -- that you could easily be next -- is largely what's so terrifying about it. But here, in Khartoum, nothing seems to be all that random. You have to matter to be a target [1].
I live under the rule of a military dictatorship that doesn't hesitate to kill foreigners who work to secure human rights and set up free elections. I get that that sounds frightening and lawless and unsafe. But as long as I'm not doing any of those important things, am I really in danger? Well, like I said: I have no idea. But, obviously -- for whatever reason -- I sort of doubt it.
Threat Level: Gray
3. Street Crime
Well, there is none. Military dictatorships are excellent for stability. Why? Carte blanche works two ways: Just as a military dictatorship, in theory, can kill foreigners who threaten the power structure, it can also disproportionately punish its own citizens for their crimes. Because, in the end, dictatorships are actually somewhat answerable to the public. The only way they manage to stay popular -- and remain in place -- is to provide the people with safety and stability. But if crime rates rise, people will feel unsafe and the regime will fall out of favor and be more susceptible to a coup. Oddly, then, crimes against pale-faces such as myself actually threaten the power structure, too. So protecting me is in the government's best interest.
Now: Because I'm racist, I never carry more than like 30 Sudanese pounds (roughly 15 bucks) on me at a time, but I honestly believe I'll never get mugged or beaten, or even so much as have my feelings hurt by someone giving me a dirty look. Of course, I do understand the basic concern: I stick out. If building tensions lead to anger displacement, I could be in trouble. But, with the exception of the rebel attack on the city in May, any and all violence here seems to come at the hands of the government, which -- in the event of my harm -- seems like it would be, at the very least, selfishly troubled by the news.
Threat Level: (I've been making these up)
- - - -
[1] Even though my place in all of this is stupendously inconsequential, I'll mention what proximity I have to his memory because it does illustrate how forgivably irrational fear can be: I met a few of his friends. They were mostly NGO workers based either in Darfur or the South with whom he had worked at one point or another. Not knowing any better, I brought up his death. "Yeah, we knew him." Oh. "He was at her wedding," one girl said. "His, too." After about 30 seconds she looked like she was kind of on the verge, and even though I felt like an asshole, she assured me that she actually liked thinking about him. She mustered a smile to put me at ease, but it still seemed like she missed him as much as anyone could possibly miss a friend. She and the rest of his friends, though, I think are examples of people who probably feel more unsafe in Khartoum than they do in Darfur, even though people are routinely kidnapped and killed there. And really, who can blame them? Who am I to "reason" that Khartoum is safe? His death clearly still resonates. If I were in their position, the city would probably give me chills, and its most salient feature would likely become its corrupt and remorseless government, which murdered my friend without consequence.
November 24, 2008
Crack Another Yolk
Every week, for every grade I teach, I give out a list of vocabulary words for the students to learn. They are given the definitions, but I explain the words in class so they understand them. Then they get a quiz.
This week, my sixth graders had been particularly angellic and intellectually curious, so I decided to reward them by putting the word "pun" in their vocab. I figured that when it came time to explain "pun" I would have to give them a few examples, and that this would at least be more fun for them than the usual word explanations. It was.
Fat Joe
I started with an example on the board:
"Look at the ocean."
"Yes, I sea."
I know. I know. But listen: these kids are like ten. When we were that age, we thought Robin Williams was funny. And Robin Williams is, it turns out, less funny than -- I swear to God I believe this -- terminal illness.
Anyway, their faces lit up. They were beaming. It was as if I had unlocked for them an entire world of unfunny jokes, except that they found these unfunny jokes incredibly funny. They told me to do another, and since I was feeling good about myself after having mystified a bunch of 10-year-olds with my wit, I was glad to:
[Man No. 2 is fetching water from the well]
Man No. 1: "How are you?"
Man No. 2: "I'm doing well."
Again, smiles. As they began trying to come up with their own, I said that the easiest way to do this would be to think of either (1) a word that has two meanings (can/can) or (2) two separate words with different meanings that sound the same (see/sea). And then from there, to try and think of a scenario in which the two words or two separate uses might both make at least some sense. They were pretty bad at it.
That is, until a boy named Khalid raised his hand. "Oh, I have one!" To this point, his classmates were like 0 for 58 in trying to come up with puns, throwing together words like "tape" (sticky) and "tape" (video) but not using them in scenarios where mention of either word made any sense. Khalid's wasn't perfect, either, but check it out: He set a scene in which a boy was asking a man (a doctor I think) if he could grow scales, like a snake. And the man, presumably weighing the boy, replied, "No, but the scale says you have grown." Now, his delivery, if I recall, was even less joke-like than that, but still . . . when a 10-year-old, second-language English student makes a connection between growing scales and a scale measuring growth . . . well, you realize you're looking at a kid who's going to be much smarter than you when he grows up.
You hope, anyway.
This week, my sixth graders had been particularly angellic and intellectually curious, so I decided to reward them by putting the word "pun" in their vocab. I figured that when it came time to explain "pun" I would have to give them a few examples, and that this would at least be more fun for them than the usual word explanations. It was.
Fat Joe
I started with an example on the board:
"Look at the ocean."
"Yes, I sea."
I know. I know. But listen: these kids are like ten. When we were that age, we thought Robin Williams was funny. And Robin Williams is, it turns out, less funny than -- I swear to God I believe this -- terminal illness.
Anyway, their faces lit up. They were beaming. It was as if I had unlocked for them an entire world of unfunny jokes, except that they found these unfunny jokes incredibly funny. They told me to do another, and since I was feeling good about myself after having mystified a bunch of 10-year-olds with my wit, I was glad to:
[Man No. 2 is fetching water from the well]
Man No. 1: "How are you?"
Man No. 2: "I'm doing well."
Again, smiles. As they began trying to come up with their own, I said that the easiest way to do this would be to think of either (1) a word that has two meanings (can/can) or (2) two separate words with different meanings that sound the same (see/sea). And then from there, to try and think of a scenario in which the two words or two separate uses might both make at least some sense. They were pretty bad at it.
That is, until a boy named Khalid raised his hand. "Oh, I have one!" To this point, his classmates were like 0 for 58 in trying to come up with puns, throwing together words like "tape" (sticky) and "tape" (video) but not using them in scenarios where mention of either word made any sense. Khalid's wasn't perfect, either, but check it out: He set a scene in which a boy was asking a man (a doctor I think) if he could grow scales, like a snake. And the man, presumably weighing the boy, replied, "No, but the scale says you have grown." Now, his delivery, if I recall, was even less joke-like than that, but still . . . when a 10-year-old, second-language English student makes a connection between growing scales and a scale measuring growth . . . well, you realize you're looking at a kid who's going to be much smarter than you when he grows up.
You hope, anyway.
November 15, 2008
Sincerely
Dear California Voters Who Voted to Pass Prop 8,
You are stupid. You are very, very stupid. You are stupid because you passed Prop 8, taking away same-sex couples' right to marry. People who disagree with you will say, I suspect, that you are hateful and mean. That you are small-minded bigots. You are. But that is beside the point. The point is: you are stupid.
Your argument -- that gay marriage "violates the sanctity of marriage" -- has absolutely no constitutional, moral or semantic ground on which to stand. Your argument is stupid. And, again, so are you, since you argue this argument as vehemently (and stupidly) as you do.
Up to this point, the Equal Protection Clause in the 14th Amendment has managed not to equally protect gay people. Mostly because gay people are not yet considered "discrete and insular minorities." I do not know why, exactly, this is, but I am 8,000% sure that you don't know, either; and that you are not, in arguing your position, making reference to legal precedent. You are just stupid.
Additionally, being gay is not wrong. Not because it is natural -- and, thus, "excusable" -- mind you, but because it is simply not wrong. And you cannot just say it is. For your refutation, be warned: I will need a better source than the Bible. Its lessons are laced with an anachronistic concept of morality. For instance: slavery is permitted. And also, it has talking animals in it. Like a Pixar film. Only it guides you morally and shapes how you fundamentally conceive of your existence.
Finally, not only is your argument unconstitutional and not-moral-in-any-modern-sense-of-the-word, it's semantically retarded.
Here's why this semantic failure means you are stupid:
Of all of the thousands of words in the English language and the gazillion ways in which those thousands of English words could be arranged to make a sentence, you have actually managed to choose a combination of English words that condemns something you want to outlaw -- gay marriage -- while simultaneously condemning things you want to keep doing. Namely: divorcing. And cheating. Which both, by definition, "violate the sanctity of marriage." Holy matrimony. Again: there were like a bazillion ways to avoid setting up this semantic trap for yourself. But you couldn't, because you are stupid.
Here's why this semantic failure means you are stupid, but less so:
Even if you have only dozens of word combinations at your tiny-brained disposal, it must be noted, to your credit, that even people with vocabularies and educations have a hard time proving that gay people shouldn't be allowed to marry. The only arguments with even a remotely logical basis are hypocritical, and the only arguments that aren't hypocritical are unconstitutional. Now, to be clear: still retarded. Totally. But so is every argument arguing this, so the real problem here was setting out to argue it in the first place.
(I'm almost done condescending you. Hold on.)
Look: I know if you could, you would rather just say: "Gays? I don't like 'em. Not one bit. Buncha fairyboys, lookin' all femme and all, 'ooohh, look at me' -- touchin' up on each other. No one wants to see that." But, of course, our country requires that you sublimate this fucking idiocy into something we can legislate. So, you went with "sanctity." But understand that American society is progressing. Legally justifying hate will get harder and harder, and demand more and more thought on your part. One day soon you will understand how stupid it is to argue against a human's right to a human right. Or, maybe you won't, because you're stupid.
You are stupid,
A Human Being
P.S. I know it wasn't just Mormons and rednecks who passed Prop 8 and thus it's not totally fair to mock in only a Mormony redneck voice; Blacks and Hispanics voted disproportionately to pass Prop 8. So, for the sake of fairness, go ahead and add an equally inarticulate and ignorant "urban" -- as opposed to "rural" -- response where you see fit.
E.g.: "Gays? I don't like 'em. Not one bit. Buncha fairyboys, lookin' all femme and all, 'ooohh, look at me' -- touchin' up on each other. No one wants to see that, esé." There.
You are stupid. You are very, very stupid. You are stupid because you passed Prop 8, taking away same-sex couples' right to marry. People who disagree with you will say, I suspect, that you are hateful and mean. That you are small-minded bigots. You are. But that is beside the point. The point is: you are stupid.
Your argument -- that gay marriage "violates the sanctity of marriage" -- has absolutely no constitutional, moral or semantic ground on which to stand. Your argument is stupid. And, again, so are you, since you argue this argument as vehemently (and stupidly) as you do.
Up to this point, the Equal Protection Clause in the 14th Amendment has managed not to equally protect gay people. Mostly because gay people are not yet considered "discrete and insular minorities." I do not know why, exactly, this is, but I am 8,000% sure that you don't know, either; and that you are not, in arguing your position, making reference to legal precedent. You are just stupid.
Additionally, being gay is not wrong. Not because it is natural -- and, thus, "excusable" -- mind you, but because it is simply not wrong. And you cannot just say it is. For your refutation, be warned: I will need a better source than the Bible. Its lessons are laced with an anachronistic concept of morality. For instance: slavery is permitted. And also, it has talking animals in it. Like a Pixar film. Only it guides you morally and shapes how you fundamentally conceive of your existence.
Finally, not only is your argument unconstitutional and not-moral-in-any-modern-sense-of-the-word, it's semantically retarded.
Here's why this semantic failure means you are stupid:
Of all of the thousands of words in the English language and the gazillion ways in which those thousands of English words could be arranged to make a sentence, you have actually managed to choose a combination of English words that condemns something you want to outlaw -- gay marriage -- while simultaneously condemning things you want to keep doing. Namely: divorcing. And cheating. Which both, by definition, "violate the sanctity of marriage." Holy matrimony. Again: there were like a bazillion ways to avoid setting up this semantic trap for yourself. But you couldn't, because you are stupid.
Here's why this semantic failure means you are stupid, but less so:
Even if you have only dozens of word combinations at your tiny-brained disposal, it must be noted, to your credit, that even people with vocabularies and educations have a hard time proving that gay people shouldn't be allowed to marry. The only arguments with even a remotely logical basis are hypocritical, and the only arguments that aren't hypocritical are unconstitutional. Now, to be clear: still retarded. Totally. But so is every argument arguing this, so the real problem here was setting out to argue it in the first place.
(I'm almost done condescending you. Hold on.)
Look: I know if you could, you would rather just say: "Gays? I don't like 'em. Not one bit. Buncha fairyboys, lookin' all femme and all, 'ooohh, look at me' -- touchin' up on each other. No one wants to see that." But, of course, our country requires that you sublimate this fucking idiocy into something we can legislate. So, you went with "sanctity." But understand that American society is progressing. Legally justifying hate will get harder and harder, and demand more and more thought on your part. One day soon you will understand how stupid it is to argue against a human's right to a human right. Or, maybe you won't, because you're stupid.
You are stupid,
A Human Being
P.S. I know it wasn't just Mormons and rednecks who passed Prop 8 and thus it's not totally fair to mock in only a Mormony redneck voice; Blacks and Hispanics voted disproportionately to pass Prop 8. So, for the sake of fairness, go ahead and add an equally inarticulate and ignorant "urban" -- as opposed to "rural" -- response where you see fit.
E.g.: "Gays? I don't like 'em. Not one bit. Buncha fairyboys, lookin' all femme and all, 'ooohh, look at me' -- touchin' up on each other. No one wants to see that, esé." There.
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