Rallying

In October I attended two very different rallies in Washington, DC. And I did not attend a third, which was different in a different way.

The third rally was actually the first, chronologically: Glenn Beck’s “Restoring Honor” shindig in August. My honor felt like it was in pretty good shape, and I didn’t see the need to hear someone jawbone others for their lack of same, so I took a pass. Somewhere around 90,000 people attended.

On October 2, the One Nation rally was held at the same site at Beck’s—the Lincoln Memorial. It was a very earnest affair and quite boring. The crowd size was impressive, but not overwhelming, and probably less than Beck’s. It was a decidedly more diverse collection of citizens. Did event have an impact on the midterm elections a month later? Who knows.

Four weeks later, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, a couple of comedians on the Comedy Central network, held their Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear at the east end of the Mall. Since no one knew what the event was actually going to be, it seems clear a lot of people came primarily to help create numbers bigger than Beck’s (and they most certainly succeeded in that). The Metro was seriously unprepared for the crowds.* The event itself was underequipped in the sound and video departments. After an hour or so of inching forward, we never got close enough to see more than a jumbotron a few blocks ahead or to hear much more than an occasional phrase (for some reason, Colbert seemed to carry better than Stewart). The density of the crowd and the inability to participate in the event reminded me of our crummy experience at Obama’s inauguration (the “Purple Tunnel of Doom” and ancillary doomlets associated with the infamous purple ticket). The atmosphere, however, was better—literally (the weather was beautiful) and figuratively (most people seemed resigned to it being a “be-in”). The signs and street theater were great, as you would expect from lefty iconoclasts, activists, anarchists, and goofballs: some absurd, some serious, some so pithily true they seemed downright Mosaic. I have yet to watch the stage performances online, and probably never will.

Janet Malcolm’s take on the two October events pretty much jibes with my experience, although I think she leaned a little to hard on notion that the Stewart/Colbert ralliers were a bunch of self-satisfied fanboys and fangirls. There was significant diversity in age though less in race than at the One Nation rally, but on balance it looked more like “my” America than the one the Beckolytes want to “take back.” My problem was this: I wanted to take part in a March to Keep Fear Alive, not stand around watching someone be “reasonable.” I wanted to participate physically in a purely sardonic statement about the monster that has driven so much decision-making for the past almost-ten years. But the march disappeared from the planning almost immediately after it became clear that Stewart/Colbert viewers were going to hold them to their boast of having a rally on the Mall, and Stewart’s lukewarm, übersensible pox-on-both-extremes views became the driving force, whereby marching gave way to a cobbled-together stage show and Colbert’s acidic, bracingly insane faux-rightism was bottled up and very sparingly used. The name of the event itself betrayed its schizophrenic origins, and its internal contradictions never really resolved themselves into a coherent message. Which was the point, for Jon Stewart, master of the false equivalence. I don’t regret being there, but I felt kind of stupid afterward. Certainly no saner. As for the country as a whole, fear has a way of squeezing out sanity, and fear is still very much afoot.

Contrary to the fears of some Democratic operatives that it would prove a harmful distraction from the very serious task at hand, children, I think the Оctober 30 rally probably helped Dems on November 2. I think it raised the spirits of those to the left of the ever-rightening center who felt there was no hope, in general; and no point in trying to minimize the traditional midterm losses, in particular. Just a little.

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*How my daughter and I got down there is a story in itself. After waiting more than an hour for a train (they were running frequently, but every one was overstuffed), we decided to see how close we could get driving. We took another father-daughter team with us (they’re from the outer ‘burbs and had their own tale of woe), and luckily he knew of some good parking garages downtown. Unfortunately, we arrived on the Mall about two hours later than we’d planned.

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Robič

As part of my continuing coverage of Crazy Slovenians (being ¼ C.S. myself), I’m sorry to report the death of one of the craziest (in the best sense, as usual). Back in 2008 the Basement saluted the winner of the Race Across America, Jure Robič. Last week Robič was fatally struck by a car while training on a mountain road near his home. He was 45 years old.

His obit in the New York Times painted a picture of a man who not only revelled in the self-punishment of ultralong-distance competitive cycling, but would undergo a Jekyll-to-Hyde transformation in the process.

“In race, everything inside me comes out,” [Robič] said. “Good, bad, everything. My mind, it begins to do things on its own. I do not like it, but this is the way I must go to win the race.”

Because of sleep deprivation during the nonstop races, which can take as long as nine days to complete, he would sometimes hallucinate. According to the Times:

More than once he leapt off his bicycle to do battle with threatening attackers who turned out to be mailboxes. Once he imagined he was being pursued by men with black beards on horseback—mujahedeen, he explained to his support team, who encouraged him to ride faster and keep ahead of them.

Primož Kališnik, a Slovenian journalist and a friend of Robič, summed him up thus:

“He was two personalities within one body. … One was very polite and nice when he was not on the bike. During races, he was absolutely the most unpleasant person you could imagine.”

Naj počiva v miru.

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Varo

Every once in a while, a comment arrives in the Basement from out of the blue. Why, just recently a visitor commented on a post from September 2007, sharing his personal experiences visiting Inca structures in Peru and Bolivia. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the occasional comment from my “faithful reader,” but it’s especially gratifying to get interesting feedback from a perfect stranger who happened to stumble upon a particular blog entry.

This time, however, it got me thinking—or scheming, I guess the word is. About a year ago L. and I acquired a painting that is signed “R. Varo.” That would be Remedios Varo, the great surrealist painter—or would it? Trouble is, it’s not in her mature style. And further, there are very few examples of her “immature style” in the literature. So—is it authentic?

Here are a few examples of Remedios Varo’s work:

And here’s the painting we bought:

Remedios Varo painting - or not

In addition to scouring the catalogue raisonné and the internet, we contacted the author of a book on Remedios Varo, but have not heard back. We also took the painting to a local auction house, where the staff was surprisingly ignorant about Remedios Varo, despite the fact that a local museum had a huge show devoted to her in 2000. In short, we have come up dry in our research.

So I am tossing this painting out into the wide electronic world in the hopes that someone, somewhere, owns or has seen an R. Varo that is similar to ours.

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Gadsden

Not content to wrap themselves in the Stars and Bars Stripes, the “Tea Party” people are grabbing other nice flags from our great confused history. I always liked the Gadsden flag: “Don’t tread on me” (although—in a fit of revolutionary fervor, I guess—they dispensed with the apostrophe). Not only did I like the image and the sentiment, I like snakes. They’ve gotten a bum rap from Genesis on. Naturally, it rubs me wrong when the “Don’t-Expect-Me-To-Actually-Pay-For-Our-Imperial-Wars” crowd tries to appropriate this symbol of a young republic giving the finger to the imperial power of the day.

So here’s my Gadsden flag, updated for my amusement:

Updated Gadsden flag - Dont Teabag Me

I made a few other versions, but they’re significantly less charitable toward my earnest, imaginary tea–tossing compatriots.

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Linked

There’s nothing like a new chain to make you feel good about your old bike.

new chain on a trek bike

Topping off the tire pressure was icing on the cake.

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Thoughtless

I continue to be astonished that someone related to me has the discipline to post a blog entry every day. “A thought a day,” she says in her tagline, “lets the mind out to play.” Sometimes she misses a day and has to play catch-up, but so far she’s pretty much been true to her word.

I can barely manage one thought a month.*
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*This doesn’t count.

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Birthright

Bob Somerby, in his Daily Howler, is as hard on “liberal” reporters and commentators as he is on right-wingers. He hates sloppy thinking and writing, wherever it comes from, and knee-jerk reactions from legs of any political stripe drive him to distraction. I’m generally sympathetic, though I think he can come off a bit schoolmarmish at times, missing the crime for the peccadilloes (let’s leave the trees and forest be).

Yesterday Somerby went off on Tim Egan of the New York Times. Egan quoted Rand Paul (our political media’s Kook of the Month):

“We’re the only country I know that allows people to come in illegally, have a baby, and then that baby becomes a citizen,” Paul told a Russian broadcaster. “And I think that should stop also.”

Egan then went on to speculate freely:

Of course, race has nothing to do with it, these situational constitutionalists say. But you have to wonder if their concern over citizens by birth would have extended to big Irish Catholic families of 100 years ago, some of whom came to the United States through illegal border crossings from Canada.

Somerby lets fly:

Egan is held in chains of bondage too. He feels no obligation to speak to the merits of Paul’s position. But he does feel forced to wonder what Paul might have said about something else, a century ago.

“You have to wonder” about that, he says. But actually, no—you don’t have to. Instead, you can actually speak to the merits of the current case. Egan never does.

Paul is quoted making a factual claim about other countries—a claim Egan never disputes. Nor does Egan ever say why it makes sense, in the abstract, to grant citizenship to newborns in the way we do—in a way no other country would, if Paul’s assertion is accurate.

Somerby accuses Egan of playing the race card with Paul rather than arguing the merits. For Somerby, Paul’s statement raises two questions: (1) Is Paul correct about the policy of other countries regarding citizenship by birth? (2) In the case of the US, does the constitutional gift of citizenship to anyone born in the US make sense?

Let’s leave the second for anyone who cares to argue about it. The first is just a research task. Ignore Paul’s additional clause about “coming in illegally.” No country “allows” people to enter illegally, even if they do it. If it happens, it’s a crime. But if a child is born to that person who entered the country illegally, or entered legally and stayed illegally—well, that’s part of what the citizenship laws address.

A few minutes of internet searching turned up a document, dated March 2001, giving the requirements for citizenship for 206 countries. It turns out 48 countries (including the US) make citizenship available to a “[c]hild born in the territory of [country], regardless of the nationality of the parents.” (Again, Paul’s remark about illegal entry is beside the point. Much as he seems intent on conflating them, the two issues—illegal entry and citizenship by birth—are not joined at the hip.) Some of these countries exclude children of “foreigners in the service of their country” or children “born to certain diplomatic personnel”; and a few require registration or confirmation of citizenship upon reaching majority (18 or 21 years of age).

Here are the 48 countries, based on my reading of the aforementioned document:

  1. Antigua and Barbuda
  2. Argentina
  3. Barbados
  4. Belize
  5. Bolivia
  6. Brazil
  7. Canada
  8. Central African Republic
  9. Chile
  10. Costa Rica
  11. Cuba
  12. Dominican Republic
  13. Ecuador
  14. El Salvador
  15. Equatorial Guinea
  16. France
  17. Gambia
  18. Grenada
  19. Guatemala
  20. Guinea-Bissau
  21. Guyana
  22. Honduras
  23. India
  24. Ireland
  25. Jamaica
  26. Kenya
  27. Lesotho
  28. Mauritius
  29. Mexico
  30. Nepal
  31. New Zealand
  32. Nicaragua
  33. Niger
  34. Pakistan
  35. Panama
  36. Paraguay
  37. Peru
  38. St. Kitts and Nevis
  39. St. Lucia
  40. St. Vincent and the Grenadines
  41. Samoa
  42. Trinidad and Tobago
  43. Tuvalu
  44. United States
  45. Uruguay
  46. Vanuatu
  47. Venezuela
  48. Zambia

Several other countries (Australia among them) allowed citizenship by birth in the past, but no longer do. Also, this list does not include countries that offer citizenship to children born of stateless parents or persons of no known nationality.

There, that wasn’t so hard.

I leave it to the reader to decide whether Rand Paul makes a compelling point. It seems clear to me he was trying to place the United States outside the circle of all other countries in its policy on conferring citizenship to any child born in its territory. If he was not “wrong” (and, given the sloppiness of his statement, it would be hard to establish “veracity” with any confidence), it would appear he was misleading his listeners, intentionally or not.

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Dogwood

I had intended to use these photos to test a flip-book plugin, but I found it cumbersome for my limited purposes. So I looked at the various WordPress gallery/slideshow plugins and settled on this one (NextGEN Gallery)—for now, at least.

I’ll be futzing with it for a while, seeing if I can add captions, rearrange images, enable comments, figure out the difference between a “gallery” and an “album,” determine the optimal file size, etc. So don’t be surprised or miffed if it doesn’t look the same the next time you visit.

And now, without further ado: the dogwood we planted about 15 years ago as it manifests itself through the seasons, plus the critters that visit it.

Update 2014.01.28: I recently discovered that NextGEN Gallery now destroy whatever page it is used on (i.e., a blank page with absolutely no code in it). So I have replaced all pages with NGG slideshows with what amounts to contact sheets with links to the full images, using gallery code native to WordPress.

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Cascade

Another April 24 has passed—the 95th since the day in 1915 when Armenian leaders and intellectuals were rounded up as the opening act of an Ottoman plan to rid their lands of all Armenians. For the second year in a row, Barack Obama took note of the anniversary but again declined to call it by its proper name, which is genocide.

The Turkish prime minister said an odd thing when he was in Great Britain recently:

In my country there are 170,000 Armenians. Seventy thousand of them are citizens. We tolerate 100,000 more. So, what am I going to do tomorrow? If necessary I will tell the 100,000: OK, time to go back to your country. Why? They are not my citizens. I am not obliged to keep them in my country.

Apparently he’s miffed that foreign legislatures keep passing resolutions acknowledging the genocide and calling it by name. Yet this is the same prime minister who has been active in normalizing relations with Armenia, and who seems open to amending Turkey’s official position on the final days of the Ottoman Empire: “What is important is to look into the archives, the historical documents … if, as the result of this work, it turns—comes out that there is such a situation, we would then consider and question our history.” Leaving aside the fact that many disinterested parties have already looked into the archives and historical documents and found genocide, making this sound like the usual dodge, one can’t help but give greater weight to what he said in the same interview: “Characterizing the events of 1915 as genocide is not something that we can accept.” ‘Round and ’round he goes …

Meanwhile, a growing number of Turks are speaking out on the Armenian genocide—historians, novelists, and ordinary citizens:

On Saturday, while hundreds of thousands of Armenians climbed to the hilltop memorial in Yerevan, a Turkish human-rights group in Istanbul held its own event, mourning with them. In another part of town, a group of Kurdish mothers gathered in solidarity with Armenians, calling on Turkey to recognize the genocide. Their empathy was matched by bravery, as they could have been jailed or fined for any public mention of the genocide, banned under Turkish law.

It is the latest and boldest step by Turks choosing to break with their government’s silence. It followed an online petition entitled “I Apologize,” signed by nearly 30,000 people in Turkey last year. “My conscience does not accept the insensitivity showed to and the denial of the Great Catastrophe that the Armenians were subjected to in 1915,” the brief statement read. “I reject this injustice and for my share, I empathize with the feelings and pain of my Armenian brothers and sisters. I apologize to them.”

Perhaps in 2015, after the last Armenian survivor of the death marches will have surely passed away, the Turkish people will finally get this load off their collective backs by simply saying: Yes, some of our great-grandparents tried to pull off a genocide. It was wrong. And we renounce it. We condemn the attitude toward the Other that is capable of concocting such an atrocious plan as this genocidal government campaign against a portion of its own population. We are no longer that type of country. We apologize not only to Armenians, we apologize to Turks and others whom we, as a country, have hounded for daring to express their opinions on the matter. Contrary to what our leaders have said for decades, it is impossible to “offend Turkishness.” There is no such thing as “Turkishness.” Every citizen of Turkey is free to be himself or herself. Turks do not fear diversity—we celebrate it. Diversity is a resource, not a threat.

Such, I think, would be the cascading benefits of a simple admission of a historical truth.

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Riddance

The sky was noticeably clearer this morning here in Washington, the air sweet-smelling and strangely endorphic. I was at a loss to explain why. Then I read the news: Turkey has recalled its ambassador. Seems a committee in the US House of Representatives had the nerve to pass a nonbinding resolution that said a genocide was perpetrated in the twilight years of the Ottoman Empire.

statue of liberty gagged with turkish flagEvery year around this time I find myself asking myself two questions:

  1. When is Turkey going to grow up?
  2. When is the foreign policy establishment of the mighty United States of America going to stop letting itself get pushed around the schoolyard by some punks in Ankara?

They’re unlikely to be answered satisfactorily any time soon, but I’m not going to let that spoil the mood. And I’m not ready to consider them rhetorical questions.

In the meantime, here’s something nice Congress can do: it can reduce its annual aid to Turkey by exactly the amount Turkey spends on public relations in the United States. The American taxpayer is, in effect, paying for Ankara’s attempts to quash legislation and influence our own foreign policy.

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