Thursday, December 15, 2005

Cairo Photo Tour: Experiments With Food

I mentioned a few days ago (unless I only emailed people about it and never blogged?) that I tried cooking, and ended up having to throw away two plates after unsuccessfully trying to heat up pizza and cinnaparts (you should check the link out -- Pizza Hut KSA...gotta love the image of the camels crossing the desert to get some Spaghetti Bolognaise!). Well I've FINALLY loaded the software for my unbelievably gorgeous and "ever-so stylish" mobile, and so I was able to download some of the photos that I've been taking on my mobile (because I'm too lazy to PLUG IN my ridiculously nice camera so that its battery can charge), and one of them is on the couch in my living room with the cinnaparts heated up. I think it's also worth mentioning that the plate, which came with the apartment, is the same flatware (flatware is plates and not silverware, right?) that we had at my guesthouse in Afghanistan, which I found odd and a bit disturbing (thinking I'd escaped Cairo only to find out that it had followed me to Central Asia).

I am also attaching a photo of the "chocolate souffle" (if you tasted it then you'd know that it needs to be in quotes) that I ordered from Tabasco, last night -- a restaurant that is kind of the AUC student/Zamalek spoiled youth hangout, but we also have two here in Doqqi, one which *gap* serves alcohol. I won't get into the horrible (HORRIBLE) fight I got into with the restaurant, because that will distract you from the actual point of the photo, which is the odd cream sauce that they gave me {prepare for slightly philosophical discussion of "the normal"}

They were thoughtful enough (I am shocked) to actually give me a ton of powdered sugar and sauce to put on the souffle, as well as extra red sauce for my ravioli, etc. Here's the problem: I'm not sure (even after eating it) what the sauce was, and I'm not even sure if it was meant for the souffle.

As you can see in the photo, the sauce was a kind of yellow/white/GREENISH liquid that was mostly watery but with some moments of thickness (almost like a watery custard). When I *saw* it I thought: vanilla sauce. When I tasted it, though, it was basically just egg. Then I thought maybe they gave me extra souffle batter in case I wanted to cook my own (combining my cluelessness about cooking with the total unpredictability of ALL service industry logic in Cairo means ANYTHING could have been happening, in my mind), but then I realized that I'm not even sure if you use eggs in souffle, and even so, you'd need chocolate -- I felt stupid for thinking that it might be souffle batter when I realized that, duh, cooking what they gave me would have just made, like, scrambled eggs. Then I thought maybe it was white sauce for my pasta (I chose red over white, but maybe they wanted me to have options), or just a lot of creamy melted butter.

Here is the problem: I totally liked the sauce. I mean, the souffle needed some kind of peristalsis-promoting lubricant, and the sauce had this proteinaceous (admittedly: suspiciously so, although I won't make any comments more provocative than that -- you can see the photo for yourself) , SLIGHTLY sweet taste, and I liked it. I even *Chunk blushes* DRANK it out of the cup while I was eating. What made me so uneasy, though, was that, despite enjoying the taste, I was really hung-up on what was proper, and what I SHOULD be eating it with. Was I downing cream sauce made for my ravioli and pouring it on my souffle? I hate butter, but was I chugging creamy butter? That I was so gastronomically disoriented (and that I realized how much I *cared*, in the privacy of my own home, whether or not it was PROPER for me to be eating it or not) was really off-putting! :(

Things to look out for in the photos other than the food:

* In the cinnaparts photo, notice the freakish mini pillows that decorate my house (not my choice). EVERYONE makes fun of the midget pillows. I sort of like them.

* In the souffle photo, notice what is the EPITOME of "Louis Farouk" Egyptian interior decorating: the marble table atop the spray-painted gold wood. It's the quintessence of the Egyptian bourgeoisie!

Anyway, enjoy the photos. I will post more in a bit about pollution, here :)

VC

Monday, December 12, 2005

Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!

It's 8AM.

Bring it :)

VC

Fatigue-Induced SCS

(self-confessional syndrome)

Since this blog is read by less than a dozen people and you are all loved ones, I thought I'd share a moment from a little more than a year ago that I still think about, often. [now that I’ve written this blog entry and am re-reading it, I don’t talk a lot about the actual moments of realization but more about what it is that I realized…sorry lol – just picture all the thoughts below occurring while I’m sitting in ancient Middle Eastern cities alone and thoughtful and happy]

I had just purchased Nelly Furtado's second CD (a TOTAL unexpected gem) and set-off for 'Eid in Jordan and Lebanon with my now-lost iPod mini. Traveling alone for two weeks, you have a lot of time to think, and feel, and be reflective almost the point of obsession -- in other words: do what I do best, lol.

There is a song on her album, which remains one of my favourite songs in the world, called "Try." I think of it, now, because after I posted, earlier, about staying in NYC, I saw, for the first time, her video for this song (sort of what I imagined it would be, but a bit disappointing in the execution...anyway that's not the point). It reminded me of how that song really brought clarity and some kind of peace to me about my relationship with the oft-mentioned NYC Pook, because we'd been broken up for about two months with almost no contact, and the song, which I listened to a lot over my trip in the Levant, made a lot of sense, both in terms of our relationship, and in terms of my life at the time. Here are the lyrics, and I'll gab on a bit more [edit: a LOT more] afterward:

All I know, is everything is not as it's sold
But the more I grow, the less I know.
And I have lived so many lives, though I'm not old.
And the more I see, the less I grow,
The fewer the seeds, the more I sow.

Then I see you standing there, wanting more from me
And all I can do is try
Then I see you standing there, wanting more from me
And all I can do is try.

I wish I hadn't seen all of the realness
And all the real people are really not real at all.
The more I learn, the more I love
The more I cry, the more I cry
As I say goodbye to a way of life I thought I had designed for me.

Then I see you standing there, wanting more from me
And all I can do is try
Then I see you standing there, I'm all I'll ever be
And all I can do is try.

All of the moments that already passed
Try to go back and make them last
All of the things we want each other to be
We never will be. We never will be.
And that's wonderful.
That's life.
That's you baby. This is me baby.
We are -- we are...free in our love.
We are free in our love.
Try

What was so immediately impactful to me, apart from the relevance I think this has to my romantic life, were her comments about this kind of aged quality to her life. I have lived so many lives, though I'm not old, and while there is so much to be learned in that, and it's such a dream in many ways, it's also very rough. This is not to be self-pitying, but rather to make an honest assessment of the fact that you don't cram all this in by the time you are 23 and not be as broken by some of your experiences as you are enriched by them. There have been times in NYC and in Cairo (as Desi has witnessed) I have been both the seed-sower and the disappointed idealist, thinking I was on the brink of real, deep, and lasting interactions with people (and I don’t mean romantically as much as I do just in terms of friends) and ended up being totally let-down by how empty things were underneath the surface.

This theme sort of returns, when she talks about saying goodbye to a way of life I thought I had designed for me, only now, of course, the romantic element is also introduced. I found myself in Cairo, silently in love, with velocity going somewhere within a large and vague universe of "post-ivy kids who are supposed to make something of themselves but don't know exactly how that is measured," and I realized, quite suddenly, that all of the things that made my life from late 2003 to late 2004 so wonderful I'd totally taken from myself, and left myself with none of the things that gave the existence that I'd come to appreciate its essence. I look back, now, and think: "I had everything, including happiness...why did I need to escape that?" As I have asked myself that question SO MANY TIMES the past two years, I think that the answer is two parts: 1. I had to sabotage something I wasn't ready to accept I had, because of all the things accepting it would stand for; 2. Something in me knew that there was still some growing up that needed to be done in order to really appreciate and make use of the things I had.

In another song that I really like, "That Particular Time," Alanis Morisette talks about (to take it out of context from the song): "My foundation was rocked. My tried and true way to deal was to vanish." I look back and think about the total (TOTAL) contrast between what I had been conditioned to understand was love from my first boyfriend and NYC scene life in general, and then what Pookie presented, and I think that I didn't even understand at the time how difficult it was for me to re-orient towards something that was actually healthy -- towards a person who was actually a really amazing guy. I remember times when I would go into prosecutor mode and drill him on where he was/what he was doing, trying to catch him in a betrayal (which is just so NOT him), and when he'd say to me: "Chunk, I am not on trial, here, and you are being ridiculous" (but not in a dismissive way, just in a clear and honest way), I would realize my insanity and immediately shift, feeling ashamed of my inability to function outside a destructive romantic framework: "I'm really sorry. God, how can I even think it's ok to be so suspicious? I'm really sorry...how can you be with someone as un-trusting as I am?" and he'd just say: "Yeah, there's no reason for you to feel the way you do, but it's not a fatal flaw, and it's something people work on," and put it to rest. Anyway, back to foundations --> as well as I thought I was dealing with someone who was remarkably complete and healthy, I realized when I came to Cairo (and saw the kinds of drama that I was tempted to seek out/manufacture in certain situations, here), that the terrain I was on with Pookie was unlike any I'd been on (or witnessed) before, and I didn't quite know how to navigate. Foundation rocked, I vanished, and his own relationship doubts and perceived limitations facilitated my exit, and even helped me not understand, for months afterward, my accountability in what happened (and what didn't).

I say that something in me knew that I needed to sort of get away and grow up, and that I 100% stand-by that; there is just too much evidence of that need, and I physically FEEL -- and see, to my despair at times -- myself more as a man than as a boy, now. I say that it was difficult to accept certain things about what I had in NYC if I were to really face the reality of it, and I think that (while it's too complex a discussion to have, here), a lot of that has to do with the categories we, particularly as urban gay men, allow ourselves to be put into. Accepting valuation NOT through being young, or cute, or charming on someone's arm at a party, which was more or less how I originally came to understand my place in NYC gay life pre-Pookie, and instead having to understand my worth as an equal in a relationship between two adult men was, I think, a difficult transition for me to make. Even in terms of the physical types we are encouraged to think of ourselves as, I had been (or have been, rather) undergoing what was, at moments, an ungraceful and mentally traumatic maturation that definitively casts me outside the space of "boi" and into the that of "man." Just a few days ago I was lamenting over email the fact that I keep getting more and more muscular, and part of that lamentation is that when I see myself in the mirror, I look, well, like a man lol. {I fully accept the problematization of the "normative body" that my discussions of manhood deserves from you critical thinkers out there} Realizing, then, my own inability, at that time, to assume my place as an equal partner (despite what I always believed was my own defiance, as a boy, to be kept or be in any other way less than someone's equal), it was important for me to remove myself from my location within NYC urban gay life, my relationship, etc. and exist outside the system, so to speak, for a time long enough that I could grow and re-enter more effectively upon my return.

Back to the song --> What I think is so important in the song, not from my perspective as the person who understands it as his voice (as I clearly do, in parts) but as the person who also understands himself as the audience, what I realized during my time in the Levant, traveling, thinking, and listening, was that what I needed to do (and what I believe I have begun to successfully do, over the past year) was communicate to a certain someone that we can look frankly at our limitations, and disappointments, and still try -- in a way that is neither risky, nor damaging, and that, in reality, is very freeing. I love it when she changes the chorus to say "Then I see you standing there, I'm all I'll ever be" but says that, even being that, she can still try. I also love it that she is able to say that what is freeing (and therefore "wonderful") about understanding you and me and what we are (and are not) is understanding that we will NEVER be everything that we want -- not for ourselves, and not for each other. I think that most people, myself included, are pretty good, in the post-Oprah age, at not forcing themselves to dwell over what they are not, and I think that people are similarly good at not expecting unrealistic things from their partners (I'm not perfect and I don't expect you to be); the critical part that is often missing, though, is the ability to not expect from yourself as you relate to your partner things that are unrealistic. In other words: saying "I'm not perfect and I don't expect you to be, either" is great, but we need to also be able to say: "I'm not perfect, and part of my peace with that is also knowing that you don't expect me to be, and I don't expect myself to be unlimited in my capacity to deal you, even though I am admittedly limited, as we all are, as an individual." Got it? :)

To recap: Wandering through the streets of Beirut with nothing but some ridiculously hot Lebanese guys to heal my pain (SO KIDDING!), I began my reflections, which I continue to this day, on the decisions that I made to come here, my relationship with Pookie, and what it means to be damaged, limited, growing, loving, etc. all within this crazy world of global capital and the disciplinary state (just kidding: I threw that last part in as a joking reference to the meeting I had today wherein we discussed Appadurai’s theory of the “promiscuous movement” of financial capital, lol).

The song is extremely powerful, and beautifully (if simply) sung, and if you don't have a copy, but are in the tristate area, then I volunteer Curie to make you a copy (lol I made her go buy the CD as soon as I heard this song!).

VC

Law School Update

No, no decisions have come through, yet, but the more I think about it, the more I think that I will stay in New York no matter the outcome of this admissions cycle. If there is one thing that I have learned after leaving New York then it's that I really do feel like NYC is my home, and it's where I need to be for the next few years. There is the smallest (SMALLEST) chance that I could go to Yale and live in NYC, like starting my second year (although the chances that I'll be admitted are even smaller, lol), but I think that in all likelihood I'll stay in NYC. There are a lot of push factors that make me not want Boston as much (the character of 99% of the student body that I've met, there, being one huge factor), and there are so many pull factors for New York. It would feel amazing to have Harvard on my resume, and I think that the academic/program opportunities there, if they compare at all to what I observed as an undergrad at Columbia, probably far surpass the other top five schools -- with the exception being in international law. I can't be pushed into this logic of "some people are top athletes, some are top models, some top actors, and you are none of these, so you are a top student and need to go to a top school," because I recognize how important it is to NOT function according to these measuring sticks in other spheres of my life (eg: the general peace that I've somehow managed to move towards with things like physical appearance) -- why allow myself to get tangled up in another directionless race? I am going to incur so much debt in law school that it is really almost unfathomable -- I might as well enjoy myself doing it (meaning: be with Hawk Barbie, Vanine, Curie, and Dr. Juicy -- AND POOKIE!) and assert as much agency as I can over my life circumstances. I think it's different if you're straight out of undergrad and have not spent THREE YEARS working as an independent adult (even if for only a year) and then doing grad school abroad, and at this point I can't let myself make the "only three more years of unhappiness for a much bigger goal" cost/benefit calculation, when the cost of unhappiness is so high, and the marginal gains to not going to *gasp* the #4 law school in the country (and #1 in international law) are just not that great. Not only that, but I'll probably incur less debt at an NYC school then I would elsewhere, because they are likely to offer me merit-based aid offers.

Don't need to decide now, I know, but this is just where my thinking is at.

Off to a late (after 11PM) dinner.






VC

Sunday, December 11, 2005

8AM GI Infections

It's 8:00AM! ... somewhere over the Atlantic :*(

Syrian Embassy and Radio Shack cut-out. Moving on...

Wanted to send out a quick public service announcement, courtesy of Juicy, MD emailing me her thoughts on her med school subjet du jour -- parisitic infections of the gastrointestinal tract (and I quote):

my advice:
don't eat raw ANYTHING (not beef, pork, fish. even vegetables are not safe because a ton of these parasitic worms live in the soil!)
don't walk barefoot ANYWHERE
don't go in freshwater ponds or lakes
don't touch ANYTHING, EVER! (if you must, make sure you wash your hands frequently!)
and last but not least, don't ever scratch your butt and then touch your mouth! (i think that is a good rule in general, but especially in the prevention of spreading of parasitic infections)

No, I am not becoming germ-phobic. Bacteria and viruses don't scare me. Flatworms, roundworms, tapeworms, and flukes, they scare me enough that i am considering leaving medical school. i am only eating processed food from now on, {censored} the organic movement, bring on the pesticides! (but not canned food, because even though i am not afraid of bacteria, botulism is an exception)

Remind me to tell you sometime about Wong's father's colleague's daughter (wow!) who had to have an enormous work drawn out of her system through her mouth using some kind of attractive light (at least that's how I remember the story from when I was like 7).

Chunk wonders if Juicy, MD can give her opinion (re: the "touching butt" point, above) on the risks involved in letting your ADORABLE and extremely elegant (and now-deceased) cat eat from your JELLO pudding cup even though she (as Wong often reminds you) "licks her own butt." Thanks for any insight!

While I away studying, you can entertain yourselves with this: NAME THAT WORM! (I'll give you the answer in my next post. Hint: the worm in the photo, above, is found inside the body cavity of a dead rabbit :) ("wormy rabbit!")

VC

PS: I had to spell-check "juicy" -- guess I'm not Spelling Bee Chunk, afterall!

Schedule Update (Fun, right?)

Well I received a call from Pookie NYC in which he had the gaul to challenge the likelihood that I would ever wake up at 8AM (indeed I did not, but he has insider knowledge of my sleeping habits: weekdays he would wake up, get ready for the gym, workout, come home, eat breakfast, and often get to our office before I did, even though I should have been the one with the less flexible schedule -- being a peon and all, and on weekends he would often wake up 3 or 4 hours before me, vaulting over me [I slept on the side exposed to the room], get dressed for the gym, workout, go grocery shopping -- sometimes dodging Upper West Side power-walking mothers and their strollers -- come home, and start making lunch before I would even get up...and he NEVER complained or resented my habits...tell me he isn't an angel!).

Pookie parenthetical completed...the point is that it's 5AM Sunday and I'm ready to revise my schedule (in short-hand that will be meaningless, but you can still read it just for your own confusion and enjoyment):

Sunday, 11 December
*Wake up at 8AM (I AM SO GOING TO DO IT AND POST ON THIS BLOG WHEN I DO!)
*Go to Radio Shack (don't forget to leave money for housekeeper!) to return the $100 universal laptop power source that I bought this morning to replace the one that I lost and then re-gained in the Grand Hyatt Food Court yesterday
*Go to the Syrian embassy and apply for visa (if goes well, go to AUC travel office later for tickets/hotel bookings)
*Go to school to print Rieker articles; read Rieker articles; write Rieker response paper and prepare talking points for meeting
*Moot court meeting @ 2:30
*Rieker meeting @ 4-5
*Go home and nap until 6:30
*Work on comparative con law final from 6:30-8 (this thing is taking FOREVER, but I have to admit that I'm doing a really good job on it...although that makes me sound like an obnoxious chunk, rather than a veiled one!)
*8PM go to Grand Hyatt, have dinner, work more on comparative con law final; gym; finish comparative con law final
*Sleep not at 5AM (maybe like 2 or 3)

Monday, 12 December
*Wake up at 8AM and gloat about how it's the second day in a row on my blog
*Prepare final revisions to Ottoman Yemen paper presented last week; complete reaction paper for final Sedgwick reading
*Sedgwick class @ 4:30PM
*Pick-up loaned insurgency articles from library
*Go home and nap until 6:30
*Email comparative con law class for update on simulation constitution draft
*Go to Grand Hyatt for dinner and review insurgency materials (as late as I can stand it)

Tuesday, 13 December
*Guess what time I'm waking up!? :)
*Continue with insurgency analysis
*Print comparative con law papers/final for class @ 4:30
*Go home and nap until 6:30
*Go to Grand Hyatt for dinner and review insurgency materials (as late as I can stand it)

Wednesday, 14 December
*8AM Encore
*Finalize insurgency materials for presentation @ 4:30 clinical
*DO WHATEVER I WANT (but go to the gym at some point)

Thursday, 15 December - Saturday, 17 December
*Complete Rieker's importing democracy paper for presentation on Sunday

Sunday, 18 December
*Complete and present importing democracy paper @ 4:30
*Work-out, eat, and review theoretical framework for book-banning paper

Monday, 19 December - Thursday, 22 December
*Complete book-banning paper for submission on the 22nd
*Relax, email, maybe see Flightplan again :)

Friday, 23 December
*Leave for Christmas and New Year in Syria (insha'allah)

VC

PS: Wrote this at 5AM and the spell check only revealed 2 errors. Go spelling-bee chunk!

Friday, December 09, 2005

VC Apologies & Update

Sorry for not posting AT ALL, lately, but I'm in my last 2 weeks of coursework for my MA (after which point a period of miraculous Arabic study will begin, the academic stuff behind me).

This is not a real post, but just a "what I'm doing and why I'm not replying to anyone's emails or updating my blog" note. By the way, I know it's selfish, but PLEASE keep emailing me. I love reading your emails even though I haven't been replying. They keep me sane (or something close).

My tomorrow (I should say: "my 2.5 hours from now" since that's when I'm waking up...it's 5:30AM):

FRIDAY, 9 December 2005

8:00AM – 12noon = Complete Part One of Comparative Con Law/Human Rights final, and begin Part Two

12noon – 12:30PM = Relax

12:30PM – 4PM = Book-banning paper Part One of Three

4PM – 5PM = Relax

5PM – 6PM = Nap

6PM – 8PM = Gym

8PM – 12midnight = Complete Part Two of Comparative Con/Law Human Rights final

12midnight – 3AM = Book-banning paper Part Two of Three


Final Coursework
* Comparative Con Law/Human Rights Final (Tuesday, 13 DEC)
* Book-banning Paper (ASAP)
* Ottoman Yemen Paper (Monday, 12 DEC)
* Analysis of Insurgents under International Humanitarian Law (Wednesday, 14 DEC)
* Importing Democracy Paper (Sunday, 18 DEC)

Pre-Finals Coursework
* Seminar response paper (Sunday, 11 DEC)
* Ottoman response paper (Monday, 12 DEC)

Other Responsibilities
* Register for Winter Arabic
* Re-schedule Comprehensive Examinations for Spring
* Moot Court meeting (Sunday, 11 DEC @ 2:30PM)
* Fellow’s meeting (Sunday, 18 DEC)
* Conference update/email for students
* Followup on honours proposal
* Survey draft
* Apply for Syrian visa
* Register for Spring (get proof of payment, insurance card, visa update)

Life
* Email severely-neglected friends

VC

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

X-Box Ruins Lives

CNN just reported on the release of the new X-Box 360 video game console, which, as has been the case since the original, gold Legend of Zelda* game for Nintendo was released more than a decade ago, was accompanied by the usual shortage of supplies for gamers seeking the latest and greatest of new releases.

One interesting (and very symptomatic of US society/priorities) moment:

A man (obviously not of patrician origin) complaining to the CNN reporter that he'd called in sick for work and been docked a day's pay and now he's out of a day's pay and still doesn't have a new X-Box 360.

Yes -- if missing ONE DAY of pay has economic consequences for you, do we think it's the most intelligent (let alone ethical) thing for you to do to call in sick and LOSE that pay so that you can spend $400 on a video game system?

God help us.

VC

*I actually remember my occasional trips with Wong to Thrifty's drug store to buy Nintendo games, and every week I'd see the gold Zelda game staring at me through the class display case, but for weeks I avoided it (forcing myself to get other games), because I could always sense that there was this expectation that I would want the GOLD game because, as a child, I was expected to be attracted to whatever was flashy and cool. I was SO aware of the saleswoman anticipating that choice, and was myself so averse to buying into those things I knew were being played upon by colouring the game gold, that I forced myself to not get it. I still remember when I finally broke-down and got it (not wanting to get ANOTHER game that didn't interest me just to resist the golden choice), the sales woman immediately so delightedly confirming my choice: "The GOLD one?" Yes. The gold one. You got me -- you knew all along EXACTLY what I'd choose. It ended up being an awesome game that (as gamers know) moved to different systems and I even played (in later incarnations) during the summer in college one year. It's odd, though, that a seven year old can have that perception of what was going on, and that I could also remember to this day my desire to avoid the humiliation of all the complex aspects of that choice (not wanting to be predictable, not wanting to endorse the marketing practices that MADE us predictable, and not, at the same time, wanting to force myself to NOT do what I wanted out of skepticism about what my wanting it or my asking for it would mean).

Monday, November 21, 2005

Graham Redeems "Him"self

Well it was barely more than a week ago (11 November, to be exact) when Senator Graham again had me blog-bashing him and, as I often do (see 22 August for photos), doubting his chromosomal pairing. He has redeemed himself slightly with the work he's done on the torture provisions discussed in this NYTimes article. I'd call your attention, though, to the weird discussion of how these three "maverick" senators are all linked through McCain (sounds like a menage a trois to me), and I find the discussion of Graham's involvement in McCain's presidential runs to hint at his unrequited love for the chalky-faced ex-POW.

In any case, I think it is typical of the Bush administration that THREE leading Republicans on the Armed Services Committee (in other words: not liberals sitting on the board of PeTA) can univocally support a clarification of US policy on interrogation techniques, and Cheyney can try to strong-arm them into backing down.

I still think Graham is a woman (at the very least he is XXY), but I'll let the Egyptian journalist discussed in my post, below, be the judge of whether or not Graham is indeed "male."

VC

Gay Wedding in Cairo

Check out this blog, which describes the (probably false-) reporting on a gay wedding that supposedly occurred at one of the Hilton hotels in Cairo in August (incidentally: kind of a hole).

Then check out THIS article by an Egyptian journalist about the wedding. Seeing the way this article is written is much, much more important than discovering whether or not two Kuwaiti men got married in Cairo (I suspect they did not).*

It's past 6AM and I need to finally go to sleep, but I feel like this article brilliantly (I should say more accurately: "effectively") demonstrates a lot of the things that make it extremely difficult to live here, and I'm not talking just about homophobia. Look for the immensely problematic language -- the insistence, for example, upon putting "males" in quotes (the obvious implication being that gay men who have sex with men are not sex male), the need to call emphatically upon imagery of the "eternal" Nile, "simple" Egyptian "workers," and Cairo's Islamic character (it's walls INDEED vibrating with the call to prayer)...you don't need me to walk you through it -- the article is an obvious mess. The thing is: I can handle offensive beliefs, but what I cannot handle is erroneous logic...there is no platform for discussion, here, because this most fundamental tool for discussion (logical reasoning) is so severely lacking (note that I'm not trying to make some statement about the "oriental mind" or something, but rather point out the ways in which people allow themselves to so lazily employ terms and arguments that wouldn’t stand up to even the most simple logical interrogation).

*In addition to the ridiculous implications related to Cairo, Islam, homosexuality, and women, you should also note the distinctly anti-Gulfi tone of the article. I think this was just a chance to slam two of the favourite punching-bags of the Middle East: gays and the decadence of the Gulfis (both concepts being often inter-linked, and both, of course, very much related to piety).

VC

Emergency Anti-Plug

I am watching CNN's *only* decent show, Diplomatic Liscence, and this total ass (perhaps to be paired with frigid bitch from blog post, below?) named David Bossie, President of a conservative group that I won't link to called Citizens United, is on the show to discuss his new film, "Broken Promises," which appears to be nothing but simplistic conservative propaganda that misunderstands the UN as a malfunctioning corporation, rather than as an organization crippled by the politics of powerful member states like the US. David Shorr, from the Stanley Foundation (maybe the best thing in Iowa?), was on to speak against him, and TOTALLY creamed him. Bossie was cornered on his relentless search during the Clinton admin. to find Clinton's skeletons, and was further confronted on the limited validity of a film that purports to discuss the UN discussions on Rwanda but does not even mention Albright's blocking of military action (Bossie actually said that "Kofi Annan is clearly responsible for Rwanda"). It was almost unbearable.

VC

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Doha Debates and Nawaf Obaid

Just a quick heads up that you should be checking out BBC's Doha Debates. They are really fascinating -- Middle East(ern) experts debating things from human rights, to oil, to Iraq. Not brilliantly-argued, but WAY beyond what we get on US television.

On a related note, I think that Nawaf Obaid is an idiot. He is this young (VERY young) Saudi Harvard grad (who I have googled and am shocked to see is apparenly not a prince -- meaning: how the heck did he get to where he's at without the House of Saud?) who is a consultant to the Saudi government. I have seen him on Hard Talk (another BBC program), the Doha Debates, and he's a common face who is apparently thought to be (by KSA, at least) the wilely young intellectual capable of fierce debate in favour of Saudi policy.

I have to say that every time I have seen him, he comes off as a smug idiot who SOUNDS like a good debater ("my esteemed colleague raises an excellent point...") but who doesn't rise much past the level of high school debate, and when it comes to making a persuasive, articulate, well-delivered argument, totally fails. I was just HORRIFIED to see all the fellowships he's had -- how CSIS could make him a chaired fellow is totally beyond me (and check out the part where his bio is like: "One-year meaningless MA program at Harvard that everyone does, then SOME doctoral classes, but I dropped out because the King offered me 1000 barrels a day), especially since he's not a prince -- and I am again totally disenchanted by what "whasta" ("connections," as Egyptians say) gets you in this world. I'm trying to think back to when I've ever needed or used (or had, lol) connections, and beyond my stepdad getting me a summer job at the country club, I really can't think of any.

I'm tempted to contact the Saudi government and say: "Listen, pay me HALF what you pay him and I will tear it up in the Doha Debates," but I'm not sure the Joe Lieberman and his Republican friends would consider that very patriotic, and lord knows I don't want to end up in a human pyramid in some secret detention center outside New York customs, or called a coward by a frigid bitch on the House floor (I wonder if Jean Schmidt could sell her trademark bows on e-bay and thereby help pay for defrigidity pills that she can't afford since Bush is against allowing affordable prescription drugs to come from Canada?).

VC

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

Gosh, wherever did the new Iraqi government get the idea that it was ok to torture people in secret prisons? I wonder...

VC

Friday, November 11, 2005

Shameless Cronyism

Well I know it's nearly two weeks since Halloween, but I decided to dress-up like a Republican, today, and engage in shameless cronyism and plugging of some favourite friends & family.*

I have long been meaning to link to Kim Gibson's design website: Misguided Designs. She and her husband are both good friends of my mother, and will probably visit her in her retirement home a lot more frequently than I will, so I definitely owe her a blog shout-out.

I want to make a quick (and non-Kim-approved) note about the website and Kim's work. I originally saw Kim's artistic ability demonstrated when my mother showed me a photo of a "Christmas Tree" designed by Kim (and her husband) related to the war in Iraq. Now, it might sound odd, but it was one of the best pieces of modern art that I remember seeing. I mean -- it was superb. Unfortunately, when you open up a home business and a lot of the people commissioning your art are soccer moms who don't want political Christmas Trees but want nice Martha Stewart-esque little thingies, then you might alter your market/production to meet that. That said, I think Kim can do anything, and really is a fantastic painter.

I've linked, above, directly to the boxes portion of her website, because one of the most interesting things that she does (in my opinion) is makes personalized wooden boxes that can go in any artistic direction you could want. You can see on the right-hand side of that page the pyramid box she did for my mother (which my mother LOVES -- also shown, here), and I really think that for those of you (even though I only have a readership of like 5) who want to give personalized, artistic, high-quality, and innovative gifts (for any purpose whatsoever), Kim is a good person to go to.

Just to rant for one more second about the Christmas Tree: it was so good that if she were a more well-known artist, she could have totally done one of those crazy public installation art projects, where she's given like a slope in Central Park to make a "forest" of Christmas Trees, and it would be one of the most popular public exhibitions in the world. THAT is how good her ideas are (so don't feel limited to feel-good winter scenes if you are considering ordering a piece).

VC

*Even Ann Coulter, on her blog that I won't link to, agrees with the cronyism critique of the Bush admin (you should also check out her scathing critiques of the Harriet Miers nomination, which were some of the best on the internet). To make one serious-ish comment about cronyism, the no-bid system that Republicans seem to favour really calls into question their devotion to free-market capitalism (which is what keeps so many "fiscal conservatives" on their side). From Iraq to New Orleans, it's all about who you know. I'm surprised that this NYTimes article doesn't mention the fact that part of the reconstruction funds were to be taken from Alaskan pork built-into the recent transportation bill -- Alaskan politicians were furious (John Stewart had a hilarious clip of one of the congressmen throwing a tantrum on the floor), but it looks like they worked out SOMETHING.

The Graham Amendment: Why I Hate Joe Lieberman

I have always thought that he was a conservative Republican, a disgusting choice for Vice-President, and a perpetual disaster for liberal American politics. His support of the Graham Amendment is the straw that broke this Chunk's back. The Opinio Juris blog (thanks Desi) has debate on both sides (needless to say I think that Klu's tentative non-analysis is totally off the mark and would encourage you to scroll down to Bobby Chesney's comments), and it's a fantastic blog in general.

I just want to point out that *again* Specter proved himself to be a thoughtful and balanced man (one of the few Republicans I can stand, in other words), and Lieberman again proved himself to be a "war on terror" junkie, living and legislating for his next hit -- I bet if you told him that he had to do a backflip because it would help with the war on terror (at least the Bush admin's conception of it) he'd whip out the acrobatic move unhesitatingly and unthinkingly. Continuing with my speculation back on August 22 (see: "Iraq's Constitution and Androgynous US Senators") I think that Lieberman might actually be in love with Graham, thinking, as I often do, that Ms. Lindsey Graham is in fact a woman.

While I'm engaging in half-hearted analysis of the US legislature, let's applaud McCain for refusing to compromise with the White House on his torture bill (Cheney et al. want the CIA exempted from prosecution). I find McCain extremely affable, even if I disagree with almost everything he has ever said about religion/family values/fetuses (and wonder why is skin is always so chalky looking), and I think that this bill, as well as the work he's done in the past on campaign finance, indicate a critical thinker who is not evil just because he is Republican (BUT MOST ARE!...j/k...kind of).

VC

PS: I know I joke about being extremely liberal and hating Republicans, but I guess it's worth noting that two of my closest friends come from that dastardly bunch, and I like having them (and their voodoo dolls) around. If it makes conservative readers feel better, I detest the unthinking political moves of a lot of Democrat's almost as much; it's just that I think idiot Democrats do a lot less harm to the world (both because they have a lot less power and because of their general worldview) than do unthinking Republicans. In any case, when I finally expatriate to the Netherlands, I promise to ONLY blog about hot boxers and never dabble in politiek (Dutch for "politics").

Sports Unveiled: Snatch-Jerky, Concussions, and Buff Asians

Sadly, I am a chunk with a cold. I am also a chunk who is trapped in front of the tv all night watching the women's tennis year-end championships broadcast live on Eurosport (an excellent event -- just the top 8 women, and EVERY match is good), which means I have been watching a LOT of tv.

A few quick observations before I get back to it.

Weightlifting: Snatch-Jerky & Blankets

I think that the dominance of the sport of weightlifting, particularly in the lighter weight classes, by Asian lifters (China, Taipei -- I still don't understand why they don't call it Taiwan...any help?, and Thailand) is evidence that Asians are often genetically pre-disposed to building lean muscle mass. In much the same way we can see how a lot of black athletes are just built differently to suit different sports, you see this with Asians in weight-lifting. Take my word for it (since I don't feel like pulling up stats). It's also a sport dominated by rising young stars, as today, for instance, I watched a Chinese woman and a Thai woman (I should call them "girls" since they are officially juniors) battle for the senior title and challenge world records. These girls were a shade under 53 kilos (almost 20 pounds LESS than I am...I think) and were lifting unbelievable amounts of weight (like more than twice their body weight). We're talking 3-4 times what I can lift (and they are SO much smaller). It's interesting, and I was thinking about blogging about this in the shower the other day at the gym, because you really see that a 100% increase in muscle strength is accompanied by only about a 20% increase in muscle size. My arms are a LITTLE bigger, now, than they were a month ago, but they are a LOT stronger. I like actually seeing the ability of a muscle to do work increase. Pretty cool.

About snatch...well...I really think the Eurosport commentators can get out of hand. First of all, the weightlifting commentators are hopeless idiots. The weightlifting competition has two phases: snatch (where they just kind of squat and snatch the bar up above their heads and stand immediately up), and clean-and-jerk (where they squat, swing the bar up to their necks so it's resting by their windpipe, rotate their grip, and then lunge, thrusting it above their heads, and recovering to stand straight up -- check out the official website for stick figures of ambiguous sex demonstrating the two...they have the woman doing snatch and the man doing the clean-and-jerk...no comment). Medals are awarded for both phases and the overall total. The commentators have had IMMENSE problems, the past two days, with the SIMPLE (A+B) math involved in ranking the competitors, and have been repeatedly baffled by the extremely difficult mental math required in adding two two-digit numbers together, particularly when you introduce breaking ties between lifters by body weight (ordinal numbers were also difficult for the commentators). Despite their pathetic math skills, they did manage to make me laugh with them and not at them, when one of them made a joke about the other one's sex-life (presumably) saying: "If I recall, you've always preferred snatch to clean-and-jerk" hahahaha. Kind of gratuitous, but not as bad as some of the tennis commentators I heard over the summer (Brits contracted for Indian tv) who made EXPLICIT gay jokes about each other (even about traveling together from tournament to tournament). Hilarious.

One character of note is Tunisia's Soumaya Fatnassi (VC *definitely* feels her pain as far as the family name goes). She it the SPITTING image of Punkie Brewster (I kid you not). I really have tried to find a photo, but I can't. A side-by-side would be striking...she even had a pony-tail on the side of her head. I felt really bad for her, though, because she ended up posting no results in the snatch portion of the event when her coaches totally screwed up the clock and didn't send her to the floor in time to lift (how much does that suck?). It was weird because she's sitting there wrapped in her blanket (see comment, below) and they're shoving all these sniffy things up her nose to make her peppy, and then suddenly she is like sprinting out of the locker room and up the stairs to the stage, throws herself into a squat, and tries to stand up, falls on her Fatnassi, and I'm sitting here wondering what the heck was in her sniffer, but then the luminescent commentators explain that she only had like 2 seconds to get to the stage and complete her lift because her coaches messed up the timing and the clock was about to run out on her turn. Poor Punkie.

The only other thing to take away from the weightlifting that I've watched is that I think it's a good sport for me for two reasons: 1. They all have big thighs, and so do I; 2. After you finish a lift, you run back to your chair and they cover you with blankets! Can you imagine some hulky lifter screaming: "I need my bankie!"? It's to keep their muscles warm between lifts (duh) but I think it's really tender and cute -- and I'm TOTALLY going to start bringing a blankie to the gym!

Boxing

No comments, here, except that I watched a TOTAL hottie named Omar Sheika (pictured, here) get destroyed by a German guy named Markus Beyer on Beyer's home turf. It was funny because Sheika competes for the US (out of Padderson, NJ or some place that sounds like that) and when he'd go to his corner all the coaches were trying to talk him up: "You f*cking b*tch! Hit him! F*cking hit him! You p*ssy! You are a f*cking p*ssy!" Meanwhile there is blood STREAMNING down his gorgeous face. Then Eurosport cuts to the German corner where the coach is like calmly smearing the guy's face with vaseline (which is like La Mer for boxers -- same petrolatum base...thanks Max Huber...work it NASA!) and saying in a conversational tone: "And so you should stick to his left and watch your breathing..." lol. Americans.

*SCORE!* I just killed the mosquito that has been secretly eating my foot while I sit on the couch. I was smart because I saw it near my computer and I fearlessly baited it with my forearm and then smashed it with a quickness that would make Muhammad Ali proud (see story about him calling Bush crazy at Medal of Congress ceremony to thunderous applause)

Shooto

For the last two hours I've been eating chocolate and admiring the tenacity and low BMI of Shooto fighters. Brazil's Vitor "Shaolin" Ribeiro has TOTALLY stolen my heart (even more than Omar Sheika). Shooto is a sport under the MMA ("mixed martial arts") umbrella, and I find it incredibly fascinating and brutal but technical in a way I really appreciate (VERY technical). It is also...what's the word...TOTALLY HOT, lol. If you can get past the "concussive" blows to the head (this is the commentator's description of the types of punches Shooto fighters throw), and the shin-kicking (ouch!), as well as some of the more disturbing mounts (pictured below), then you can focus on a really technical and artful sport, in which every athlete happens to have what VC considers to be the ideal male form (or at least what HE would want to look like). Check out this website for a bit of an explanation of some of the fighting -- it also gives a flavour for the internal debate amongst MMA sports as to which is the most hardcore (if we are using that as a pun then I *definitely* vote for Shooto). Speaking of, does ANYONE but me think it's noteworthy that Mr. Shaolin authored this article about how he likes to go for the "rear mount" because it's a "great position" in order to make the other guy (in this case, Todd) "submit"!?!? *VC fans himself* No comment necessary.

Enjoy! (especially you, mom lol)*















VC

*I would like to remind my mother that in reality she should not enjoy these fight photos TOO much, lest I reminder her what happened the last time she got overly-absorbed by the art of combat: after watching Kill Bill on DVD, she, at midnight (and 57 years of age) decided that she should go into the hall and start doing some of the martial arts moves, and proceeded to crash her elbow into the wall and injure herself. Careful, mommy!

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Instablog: Kofi Annan Speaks at AUC

I've just rushed back from the inappropriately-named "Oriental Hall" on our palace campus (an old palace that is now home to the American University) where Kofi Annan was the speaker at the first annual Nadia Younes memorial lecture. Nadia Younes was one of the 22 UN employees (along with a dear friend of Pookie) killed in the 19 August 2003 bombing of the UN headquarters in Iraq, and her family (of obvious influence) endowed this lecture and an annual prize in humanitarian service to commemorate her.

I only have a few minutes before dashing off to class, but a few thoughts.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell.

Ok that's not a thought, and it's not even sensically-constructed, but it is the quote (in tacky block wood letters stylized to resemble Arabic Kufic script) that adorns the arch of the lecture hall. I feel like it nicely embodies AUC.

Back to Kofi...

Shorter than I expected, gorgeous suit as usual, and really warm with the AUC Model UN girl who introduced him (who gave an introduction that, if a bit sycophantic about the UN, was stunning in its articulation and delivery...probably the most impressed I've been with anything anyone has said since I moved to Egypt -- not bad for an AUC undergrad...maybe being the grand-daughter of a king helps with the upbringing?).

Anyway, onto substance: well, there wasn't much, because it was a simple memorial lecture, but some interesting implications.

  • Odd reference to Nadia Younes as the "prototype of the modern Egyptian woman," who he defined as balancing multiple global identities with no sense of conflict. --> don't we think that there should always be conflict to the identities that we balance? Isn't that part of a healthy interrogation of our values? Ok I'll lay off...
  • Strange pan-arabist references -- to the classic "arab intellectual" or arab sense of humour. I think that when he said it was appropriate to also commemorate the Egyptian ambassador to Iraq who was killed, as well as two Algerian diplomats, it was calling upon Cairo as the center of the Arab world in an interesting way (esp. with the Algerian reference).
  • Made clear declaration related to humanitarian law about the targeting of civilians: "the deliberate targeting of people who cannot be identified with occupying military forces" he said was "not resistance, but murder, and terrorism" which he called "senseless criminal violence."
  • Slam on Bush (in my opinion, although Shakira, who is a Bush-loving neo-con...excuse me while I swallow the little bit of vomit that just came up...disagreed) when he talked about the tendency of people to produce exclusionary and divisive categories that make you a "traitor" if you don't go with the cause -- the explicit reference being to Arabs who feel pressured to support the insurgency in order to be good Arabs/maintain solidarity with the broad Arab cause, but the implicit reference (made more explicit when he said that this tendency is not just in this part of the world, but it witnessed across the globe) to Bush's for us or against us/patriotism means hawkish messages. He said that we cannot reply to extremism with extremism, to violence with violence, and I have to think that part of that is directed at the US as much as it is at Iraqi insurgency (after all -- which group was sitting in the auditorium?).
  • Expectedly spoke out in support of a "viable, contiguous Palestinian state" and referenced the "many UN resolutions" in support of that aim.
  • Spoke out against collective punishment, religious persecution ("the problem is not the faith but the faithful"), destruction of the environment, proliferation, and in favour of international human rights law.
  • Made interesting (and quite correct) argument that there is no such thing as national v. global interest in a globalized and integrated world, and that the collective interest of all humanity is in the national interest of individual states. There is no longer any such thing as a zero sum game, according to Kofi, as far as global politics are concerned.
  • Final interesting thought: "There can be no development without security, and no security without development, and there cannot be either without respect for human rights."

Loved it that students were not allowed in the main auditorium, but had to sit upstairs and watch from below, were made to wait OUTSIDE THE UNIVERSITY on the street in a mob to get it, and, when the President of the university did his "distinguished guests" thankyou in his intro, did not even mention the fact that there were STUDENTS in attendance.

Gotta run!

VC

VC Mixed-Tape Humpy Preview

I have been promising for a while, now, to deliver a post discussing pressing issues of the day, or at the very least, my favourite songs and videos on the air right now.*

It's nearly 4AM and I'm not going to do that, now, but I do want to give my readers a preview of one of the songs to make the list: "My Humps," by the Black-Eyed Peas. Now, I have a lot to say about this group (read: I have some things to say about the singer-chick's rockin' bod), but I'll save it. For now, enjoy these HILARIOUS lyrics. To avoid certain readers' inevitable (and highly inappropriate!) questions, NO I do not identify with this song (so he says ;p).

What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside your trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps. (Check it out)

I drive these brothers crazy,
I do it on the daily,
They treat me really nicely,
They buy me all these ice-ys.
Dolce & Gabbana,Fendi and then Donna
Karan, they be sharin’
All their money got me wearin’
Fly gearrr but I ain’t askin,
They say they love my ass ‘n,
Seven Jeans, True Religion's,
I say no, but they keep givin’
So I keep on takin’
And no I ain’t taken
We can keep on datin’
I keep on demonstrating.

What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What u gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream
Make u scream, make you scream.
Cos of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.

They say I’m really sexy,
The boys they wanna sex me.
They always standing next to me,
Always dancing next to me,
Tryin’ a feel my hump, hump.
Lookin’ at my lump, lump.
U can look but you can’t touch it,
If u touch it I’ma start some drama,
You don’t want no drama,
No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama
So don’t pull on my hand boy,
You ain’t my man, boy,
I’m just tryn’a dance boy,
And move my hump.

VC

*By "on the air" I mean the four channels on the Hotbird satellite that I turn to for music video entertainment: VIVA Polska (a Polish music video channel that's pretty good, since Polish rap is SO gangsta'), 102.5 RTL (Italian, very good), 123LiveSat/6 (this has the best videos, but plays them on rote repeat and has no live programming...which means that when they misalign the video and sound, as they often do, you have to wait for it to cycle around again [a couple hours] for the people's lips and lyrics to match!...it's an Arab station that also has at-times distracting ads for phone sex hotlines blocking the screen, but I guess it's the soft-porn quality of the station that makes it so good, because it has videos for dance/techno songs that are really creative and racey and not shown on other channels), and Gay TV (which is NOT a porn channel, but an Italian-run station that basically just plays music videos, has a few amusing talk shows, and once a week has a gay-themed but not-pornographic film).

SSL Update: From Guantanamo to One First Street

Devoted readers might remember brighter days, when the Chunk would faithfully and thoughtfully blog on a near-daily basis, and when he, on 1 August, devloped his theory of "Super Special Law" (SSL) as part of a discussion of the Roberts nomination and Guantanamo Bay.

Well I am happy to update that the issue has again come to the fore, and will be heading to the Supreme Court. Check out this NYTimes article (and refer back to my 1 August post!), form an opinion, and get back to me :)

VC

Friday, November 04, 2005

SECURITY BREACH!

Pookie is NOW READING THIS BLOG.

I repeat: the NYC super-hottie and adorable cuddle puppy commonly referred to on this blog as "Pookie" is now a VC reader.

Lots more blogging to do, but had to get out this early warning that some serious censorship (namley of my unabashed gushing when I thought he wasn't reading it) will be implemented ASAP.

VC

PS: It's totally wrong for me to hint at things I want him to send me in Cairo, now that I know he's reading, right? That's so not my style ;)