Ciao!

Brave new world

The news today is interesting. Three tidbits: American forces are pulling out of Saudi Arabia. Interesting. European leaders (guess who?!) want to strengthen their regional defense force (outside of NATO). Interesting. Kim Jong Il thinks Bush was a "mean trickster" by focusing on North Korea's previous admission that it has nuclear weapons. Huh? Although China doesn't seem to think North Korea has any nuclear weapons. Interesting.

Posted by Miguel at 06:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Summer packing project

I've been busy w/ so many side projects and interruptions.

Katia & Kevin are back from Poland. Katia is a political scientist and researched elite attitudes in Russia & Poland. Kevin is a historian; he focuses on medieval Russia. They just moved back to Stadium Drive Apartments and are now living right across from Moataz. I used to live in the same corner w/ all of them. It was quite nice; international children roamed the lawns along w/ a flock of Canadian geese that came by one November and never left.

I'm also trying to set up a plan for my trip to Bolivia. I don't mean the usual packing lists (I've used a master packing for years) or other travel arrangements. It's more than that.

I'll be living in Bolivia for almost a year. A year! I'll be doing research. The key problem here is — my books. Having a small political science library in my apartment is great; I can quickly look up a passage just by digging through my bookshelves. But. I can't take all my books w/ me when I go. Impossible. So. I've been developing an alternate plan. Here it is:

I'm gonna go through my books, one by one, and build an extensive bibliography list. Then. I'm gonna go through the most important ones and write brief summaries and pull out key passages — and type them up. I'll store them all inside Kaneda's innards and take a compact reference source w/ me to La Paz. Thanks to Sherlock, I can index a hard drive's partition by individual words — at the individual document level — for retrieval as needed.

So that's the plan. I'll start w/ my democratic theory stuff first, and work across the range of my dissertation's lit review as needed. Some books will come w/ me, of course. Mostly detailed books on methodology or key components of my canon (e.g. Schumpeter's Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy). But I have to seriously streamline. I have four months to accomplish this project.

Similarly, I'll be transferring my music library to mp3 format, storing it (in Kaneda) w/ iTunes. Again, a few key pieces (e.g. The Pixies Surfer Rosa) will travel w/ me. When it's all said and done, Kaneda's 60 gigs will be bursting at the seams.

My plan is to fly to Bolivia, live there for a year, and carry no more than my maximum alloted weight in luggage. Keep in mind that this luggage will also have to carry a wide assortment of gifts from family in the US to friends & family in Bolivia. The race is on.

Posted by Miguel at 09:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Victory speech

It took a while, but Eject! Eject! Eject! finally has a post-war entry on Iraq. I've been anxiously anticipating it. Like most things Bill Whittle writes, it's long — but amazing in its power and scope. Read the whole thing.

I'd originally posted excerpts. But that wouldn't do Whittle justice. His writing has a style that makes it hard to excerpt. His essays are tightly structured arguments that move, not so much in a linear fashion, but rather in an arc. So excerpts often read very oddly on their own.

Posted by Miguel at 02:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Apple rocks (more than before)

I'm pretty excited. A new version of iTunes and a new iPod.

Posted by Miguel at 03:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Today was the second Sunday ride of the season. We rolled sixteen deep to and through Portage. It was a good turnout, despite missing a few key people. But most of the usual suspects were there. And quite a few non-members.

Posted by Miguel at 11:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

An evening at home

Posted by Miguel at 02:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

What democracy is, and is not

The war's finally officially winding down. Bush is expected to make an announcement any minute now. I think the capture of Tareq Aziz, Iraq's Foreign Minister, was a good indication that the war was, indeed, over. Whether Saddam's a smear of ash in a sub-level bunker or a goat herder in Syria is irrelevant. He's no longer a factor in Iraqi politics.

Posted by Miguel at 06:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Yellow spring

A beautiful spring day. And I was poked and prodded by doctors. I never thought a Fulbright medical clearance was so difficult. I'm not even half finished.

But a lovely day for walking through campus. I snapshot these wonderful yellow flowers before stepping onto the #16 bus downtown. Not sure what they're called, but they looked great. A line of shrubs that was all flowers and no leaves.

Posted by Miguel at 11:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Posted by Miguel at 09:45 PM | Permalink

7♥

This is interesting: Saddam's spy chief just surrendered to coalition forces. I wonder what new secrets will be revealed ...

Posted by Miguel at 09:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Two down, one to go?

I currently have no mopeds. Not for riding, anyhow. The Motron's in fine shape. Except that the kick-stand spring broke. And I discovered that my tires are in bad shape; I shouldn't be able to see the inner tube. Not safe. So in the shop it goes.

Posted by Miguel at 09:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Peaceniks for sale

Disturbing news keeps surfacing from Iraq. I'm no longer posting regularly on it, but I'm still keeping tabs. Right now I'm mostly in an introspective mode; the war's over, it's time to think about the fallout, not win debates about its validity.

Posted by Miguel at 09:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I hate doctors

The Fulbright people are pretty demanding. In order the get my thousands of dollars, I have to go through a list of paperwork. I went in for my doctor's appointment today. I thought it'd be a routine physical — just to make sure I'm generally healthy. Nope.

Posted by Miguel at 07:54 PM | Permalink

Dark Knight Returns

Back in Kalamazoo after a long bus ride home. It's good to see the family; it's also good to be back home. My cats seemed quite happy to see me.

I bought Batman: The Dark Knight Returns to read on the bus. It was just as enchanting and amazing as the first time I read it, a decade ago in my best friend's bedroom on a lazy July afternoon. I've never collected comics. But I was always drawn to Batman more than to any other superhero. And I owe it all to Frank Miller.

Miller's Batman isn't the Scooby Doo clown. No. He's dark, brooding, haunted by inner demons. He's misunderstood because he stands up against the forces of evil — even as the people of Gotham fall into greater irrationalism and pedantry. But I mostly like Batman because he's just a normal man. He doesn't have super powers. He's just tough as nails. By sheer will. By sheer volitional will.

I've been thinking quite a bit about what things make American culture unique. I think one of them is superhero comics. Is there a superhero tradition in Europe? I don't know of any.

Maybe I should read more comics? Josh Dahl? Dave? Dan? Any suggestions?

Posted by Miguel at 07:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)

Easter

My grandpa's a bull ox. I Visited him in the hospital only hours after open heart surgery. He was chipper and happy to see us. His voice was barely a whisper, but he asked us about ourselves, how we were doing. He wiggled his toes (as per the nurse's instructions). Grandpa is one tough hombre.

Grandma smiled and kept him company, feeding him little bits of ice when he asked for them. He'd push his respirator out of the way and open his mouth. But he hardly ever complained. And he kept talking about the Bluegills he plans to catch as soon as he gets out — fishing at Pratt Lake will do him good, I'm sure.

The hardest thing will be letting people help him. Grandpa likes to give help; he doesn't like to get help. He still goes out mid-Spring and puts the dock out on the lake and draws the boats into the water. He'll grugingly accept help (to be fair, he's quite particular about how things are done). But he's a hard worker, a roughneck.

He dropped out of school when he was thirteen — the Depression, of course. He worked hard at a small gas station, which he later bought and owned (w/ a little help from his Italian friend Tony, but that's another story for another time). Grandpa's greatest accomplishment was that he owned his own business; he worked for himself.

He was a mechanic, walked around all day in a blue shirt and rough, greasy hands, a rag hanging out his back pocket. He also owned a snow plow company. He still wakes up at 5am every morning. I've no idea how he does it.

But he's recovering, doing well. They only did a triple bypass, which is better than a quintuple, I guess. His heart's strong, so he pulled through w/ amazing speed. He'll be going home in a few days. I'm sure in a few weeks he'll be mowing his own lawn.

The Coates family gathered for Easter dinner at Olive Garden. It was nice to see everyone. Well, almost everyone. Carson's training for more forest fire fighting (he's nuts!) in Arizona — he and his wife, Carol, are also expecting a baby in August. I'm not sure where Doug and Maria were; Andrea and Toby are in Princeton finishing up their semesters.

The food was good. But I forgot my camera at home; so no family dinner pictures.

My brothers and I were starving, having woken up to attend a 10am Easter service at my parents' church. I missed going to mass and missed the lovely St. Tom's liturgy. Nazerene churches remind me too much of Vegas and Karaoke; I never feel "right" there.

The holiday's winding down. Andy and Dad are on their way to the airport; Andy flies back to Delaware to his job at Du Pont. Sam and I go back (separately) to our respective homes tomorrow. My parents will have a quiet house again.

Posted by Miguel at 05:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

On the road again

Heading out to Saginaw for Easter w/ the family. It'll be a good time, I'm sure. The only downer's that my grandpa's having a quintuple bypass today (actually, he should still be in the operating room right about now). But it'll be good to be home — to enjoy time w/ my parents and brothers. I also look forward to seeing my best friend, Matt.

Dave's looking after Annie and Sophie while I'm gone. He's done this before and is well aware of their diet regimen. It's good to have friends willing to look after your cats for days on end. I'm always a little worried my cats'll get into some sort of mischief while I'm gone.

Well, I'm off. Happy Easter, everyone!

Posted by Miguel at 09:02 AM | Permalink

I love rock'n'roll

Sure, the've got Susan Sarandon, Jeanine Garofalo, and Sean Penn. But we've got KISS frontman Gene Simmons (scroll down to his 17 April post). Excerpt:

Posted by Miguel at 12:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Uncle Saddam & evening show

Tonight was the M Sord show at 1977 Mopeds. If you've never seen him, you must. M Sord is just a solo drummer accompanied by digital music. But the moment he steps onto his elevated drum platform, amidst the machine-generated smoke, in his signature wrap-around solar shades and white karate kid headband, you know it's for real.

It was a dramatic shift from watching Uncle Saddam (which recently came out on DVD) earlier w/ Dave and Megan.

I've heard about this movie before — mostly from the blogosphere. French filmmaker Joel Soler entered Iraq under the pretense of making a documentary on the effects of the UN sanctions; he also claimed to be interested in Iraqi architecture. Hussein and "his entourage" (as Soler describes it) allowed them inside. Some segments were filmed clandestinely (at risk of death). Others were filmed openly — interviews w/ Hussein's personal designers and architects, for example.

And, of course, the Saddam Children's Hospital. Which seems to be the pride and joy of the Hussein regime. Soler points out that Baath officials always took "tourists" there first and were quick to point out the effects of crippling UN sanctions that reduced the average Iraqi's salary to $3 per month.

But Soler captured some remarkable footage that shows just how lavish Hussein's multi-million dollar palaces are. Built during the sanctions, replete w/ marble floors, Louis XIV furniture, gold everywhere. And the megalomania that was Hussein's cult of personality (children are taught to refer to him as "Uncle Saddam").

Although Soler would later oppose the "unilateral" intervention (he wanted one w/ a UN mandate, so did I, but I no longer look to the UN for "moral" authority), he came away convinced that Hussein had to go. The clumsy brutality of the regime — even when presented in all its campiness and narrated by Kids in the Hall veteran Scott Thompson — is undeniable.

Posted by Miguel at 11:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

Tea boxes & album covers

I just got back from the Graphic Design BFA show at East Hall. The show featured work by Allison Spicer, including these tea packagings. Other items included CD album covers, posters for the Francophone Film Festival, brochures, and book covers. Some of these things were actually put into production.

Posted by Miguel at 07:11 PM | Permalink

Bloggers of the world unite

Blogger conventions are becoming more and more popular. Here's one from Iran. It makes me extremely hopeful. How long can a closed society exist when its young people are freely exchanging information and opinions w/ each other and people around the world?

The revolution won't be televised. It'll be blogged.

Posted by Miguel at 01:26 PM | Permalink

Camus would be proud

One of the reasons why I love reading James Lileks' Bleats every weekday is that he's an amazing essayist w/ a profoundly honest mind. Also, he's so much better at putting thoughts to words than I am. Like this excerpt from his latest:

You know, if you paw through the reams of resolutions put forth by the UN, I'm sure you'll find one that outlaws special jails for children, too. I'm no longer interested in reading the arguments of people who regard a war that empties the children's jails as a greater evil than the jails themselves. And I don't share their horror for the word "illegal," particularly in the context of international law. Is the worst thing about modern-day slavery its illegality? Or the fact that it's slavery?

And yet he spends as much (or more) time doting on his beloved daughter "Gnat" (Natalie) and the small joys of his simple life. This same post, which starts addressing the war, turns into a critique of the current state of children's literature (contra Madonna).

In short, he never rants. He thinks. And he realizes that the simple acts of life are as profound — perhaps more profound — than all the headlines combined.

Posted by Miguel at 02:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Où France?

Some French intellectuals are beginning to wonder if Chirac's policies did more harm than good. This from Le Monde (translated at Europundits). Excerpt:

Posted by Miguel at 06:13 PM | Permalink

Posted by Miguel at 03:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Lifting sanctions?

I'm amazed at the new debate on lifting UN sanctions on Iraq. The war's over; there's no need for sanctions. There was always a strong argument that the sanctions only hurt innocent civilians. I'd hoped the war would make sanctions irrelevant.

Posted by Miguel at 01:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Reading list

I've been looking for substantive guidebooks on how to carry out the content analysis part of my dissertation. After all, I'm leaving in September. I've got the theory behind it, but nothing on how to practically pursue it. The best ones are checked out from Waldo Library. And I've never actually taken an in-depth course on content analysis - as opposed to, say, ordinary least squares (OLS) regressions.

So, I decided to look online for some sources and just plain order some books from Amazon. I chose two: The Content Analysis Guidebook by Kimberly Neuendorf and Methods of Text and Discourse Analysis by Ruth Wodak. Yes, I am excited and looking forward to reading them over the next few weeks. And owning the books means I'll be able to take them w/ me as reference guides during my nine months "in the field."

In the meantime, I plan to finish Milan Kundera's Immortality (which is really good, btw). Also polish up some of lit review sections of my dissertation draft(s). I hope to wrap up my democratic theory section by the time I get on that big airplane headed south.

The weather's back to crap. After hitting 82 degrees yesterday, it was a very windy 55 degrees today. Ah, Michigan!

Last night felt like summer. Danielle and I took a stroll downtown, ending up at Food Dance (the Shiraz and Risotto was amazing). A splendid evening. We decided we're just friends (to be fair, she did most of the deciding). Just as well. Still, I really like spending time w/ Danielle. She perfectly blends intelligence and hipness, a professional w/ indie rock roots.

Posted by Miguel at 04:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The post-Iraq media war

I wondered before if the media war would turn, in the end, to be the most important part of this war. The realities on the ground - swift victory, relatively few civilian casualties, cheering Iraqis - are turning much of the media around. News of Baath atrocities already abound. The only real loser (so far) is CNN.

But here's a story from an embedded reporter for Arab News. She writes for her paper that the Marines she met were more similar to Arabs than she'd ever imagined. And she walked away from this war w/ hope concerning future Arab-American relations. Remarkable.

On another note: Greek anti-war protesters toss molotov cocktails at EU summit. Pacifists w/ molotov cocktails? After the war is over? Did such people actually want Saddam to win? Consider the implication: preference for a fascist regime. That's not any left I recognize.

Posted by Miguel at 11:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Video Description Restoration Act

My friend Alex Díaz emailed me this. It's about the Video Description Restoration Act. For additional information, please visit the American Council of the Blind website. Supporting the rights of the blind is important.

Posted by Miguel at 10:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Surfin' Safari

If you use a Mac, and have already switched to OS X, you should check out Safari. Apple released a Public Beta 2 (v73) of its web browser yesterday. I've used Safari as my browser for over a month; it's stable, fast, and has great features.

Posted by Miguel at 07:12 PM | Permalink

Lonely Planet posterkids

Based in London, my American ex-pat friend J. Edmund posted some amazing pictures from his recent trip to Prague. He's been taking side holidays throughout Europe, including a pilgrimage to Thermopylae, where 300 Spartans saved the West (you draw the parallels).

I love reading the adventures of my friends beyond the sundering seas. Including Bill (Japan), Emily (Strasbourg), and Steph (Singapore). And they're all pretty good writers.

Posted by Miguel at 05:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (30)

CNN lies

Instapundit posted a few links about the looting of the historical museums in Baghdad. There's evidence to suggest these were looted before the fall of Baghdad - by fleeing Baath officials.

Posted by Miguel at 01:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Islamic Lysistrata

I thought Emily'd get a kick out of this article. She wrote a paper on the Lysistrata Project.

Some people are surrendering the booty they took in the Dura district of Baghdad, perhaps in response to a rumored edict by a Muslim cleric forbidding Iraqi wives from having sex with looter husbands.

"A good Muslim woman would not let this man touch her, as a signal to everybody that this is not a way to behave," said Sheik Ali Jabouri, who also preached Monday morning that people must give up their loot.

Ah, sex. The world's most powerful weapon.

Posted by Miguel at 11:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The first Spring day

Today was a great day. Spring burst through the window blinds w/ a 70 degree sun and a symphony of chirping birds. Amazing.

Posted by Miguel at 07:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Russian Ark

After months of waiting, I finally got to see Russian Ark this evening. It's an amazing conceptual film. Technically: The longest single shot in movie history (the movie was made in one single take). The largest cast in a movie (over 2,000 actors and three full orchestras). In short, brilliant in its technical magnificence.

Posted by Miguel at 11:48 PM | Permalink

Why they hate, why we fight

James Bennett's recent column answers the popular 9/11 question: "Why do they hate us?"

And here's another pebble to the mountain upon which I stood to support this war. It's the story of Iraq's Abu Ghurayb prison. Where 2,000 political prisoners died in a single day. Here's the haunting first line:

Wednesday was the day for killing and Thursday was the day relatives paid to collect the bodies of the dead.

One word jumps out. Relative paid to collect their loved ones' bodies. Many couldn't pay for the bullet; their fathers, sons, daughters, husbands, friends, lovers tossed into mass graves. Those recently released include western journalists and international aid workers.

Posted by Miguel at 09:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (29)

This will run in tomorrow's Telegraph. This will run in tomorrow's San Francisco Chronicle. Has the shit hit the fan?

Posted by Miguel at 10:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Put your $ where your mouth is

Blogger Soundbitten has a great suggestion: Donate money to an Iraqi relief organization. I wonder if Jeanine Garofalo donated any money to the Iraqi people she (supposedly) cares so much about. No matter; I made a contribution. Soundbitten recommends UNICEF. If you opposed the war on humanitarian grounds, I challenge you to donate at least $10. If every American who marched protesting the war donated $10, they'd raise $50 million.

Posted by Miguel at 01:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Thumbs up

There are ridiculous stories at Indymedia.org about what "thumbs up" means in Iraq. The argument is that it's the equivalent of our middle finger gesture. In other words, all the pictures of Iraqis giving coalition troops the "thumbs up" gesture are really telling us to fuck off. Never mind the flowers, the hugging, the kissing.

Posted by Miguel at 08:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

No blood for journalism?

We're hearing the stories CNN never wanted to tell (via Winds of Change). The news will soon fill w/ stories of news networks that deliberately kept quiet about Hussein's atrocities in order to stay in Baghdad. After all, they didn't want to be scooped, right?

I must give respect to Al Jazeera here. A few days into the war, Iraqi authorities tried intimidating a staff member. The network publicly denounced the act, announced it would stop broadcasting from Baghdad, and recalled all its reporters. Days later, they were asked back in by the Iraqis w/ promises of less restrictions.

CNN, on the other hand, seemed willing to let its staff be tortured and even killed. And they never reported it. Despicable. Here's more.

And then there's UN weapons inspector turned peace activist Scott Ritter:

The prison in question is at the General Security Services headquarters, which was inspected by my team in Jan. 1998. It appeared to be a prison for children - toddlers up to pre-adolescents - whose only crime was to be the offspring of those who have spoken out politically against the regime of Saddam Hussein. It was a horrific scene. Actually I'm not going to describe what I saw there because what I saw was so horrible that it can be used by those who would want to promote war with Iraq, and right now I'm waging peace.

When truth is sacrificed for political consistency, we live in a dangerous world.

Posted by Miguel at 01:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

¡Feliz cumpleaños!

Two birthdays today. Dad and Novalí. You'll have to forgive me if I tilt the number of pictures in favor of my niece, but she's only two years old. My brother has tons of pictures to choose from on her website. Here's a small sample, including a few pics of my dad.

I don't have many stories about Novi. She lives in Chicago and I hardly ever see her. Still, she's the cutest two-year-old Bolivorican on the planet. But I've known my dad all my life. He's the greatest father. Ever. Instead of writing a short little story about him (here's an older one), I'm posting a poem I wrote about him when I was in high school. It's about the time shortly after we first moved to Michigan and my dad didn't yet speak English.

Papá

Papá comes home dirty and tired from work
filled with the smells of highway grease and old sweat.
He meets mamá at the doorstep
and they face each other across the thin carpet.
Mamá in her pink robe.
Papá in greasy jeans and grey sweatshirt.
he breathes hard and smiles,
only reaches up a hand to shake his hair.
Says hello and can he have his dinner please.
I watch from the stairwell
while mamá sets a plate of cold rice on the table
and papá washes his broken hands.
I watch papá eat alone in silence.
Mamá watching with her head on her elbows.
Me in the dusty stairwell,
watching papá show me how to be a man.

Posted by Miguel at 08:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Marines phone home

Sgt. Stryker posted an email he received from the the brother of Corporal Brian Taylor (Fox Company, 2nd Battalion, 23rd Marines). Cpl. Taylor's unit had captured the former UN headquarters, found the phones still working, and called relatives (I hope Kofi Annan doesn't mind). Here's an excerpt:

Brian captured an Iraqi general himself at a checkpoint. A man trying to get through a checkpoint that they had set up to allow civilians to leave didn't look right to Brian. Brian searched his stuff and found a very ornately engraved plated pistol. The man insisted that he was just a farmer. Brian wasn't having it, so he called over his battalion intelligence officer who actually is a farmer (remember that the 2/23 is all reservists). The farmer/intel officer said, "Show me your hands." Upon seeing the general's silky smooth hands, he said, showing his own hands, "Those aren't farmers hands; THESE are farmer's hands!" They handcuffed the general who proceeded to bawl like a little girl as they carried him away. Brian later learned that the pistol engravings indicated that it was a gift from Saddam.

On a somewhat unrelated note, here's an excerpt from O'Keefe on human shields:

Human Shields were present at all major power and water plants in Baghdad. Human Shields remained so throughout the invasion and bombing of Iraq. Subsequently the power and water serving millions of Iraqi civilians in Baghdad was never "knocked out" by U.S./U. K. bombing.

I won't comment on the obvious egoism involved in such a statement. Human shields were only successful in preventing damange to those buildings if all these conditions hold: 1) the military knew where the human shields were at all time, 2) they deliberately avoided targets where human shields were present, 3) all of those sites were originally on the target list. I'm not sure any of these assumptions hold (especially not 1 and 2).

If we're going to use post hoc ergo propter hoc reasoning (a logical fallacy, btw), then I'll claim credit for the war. After all, I came out publicly in favor of the war in November. I'm sure Bush, Powell, and co. took my advice very seriously. I expect a brief note of appreciation in Bush's victory speech: "I wanna briefly thank Miguel Centellas for his support for this military action in his weblog." You're welcome, Dubya. Now, about that Patriot Act ...

Finally, Michael Totten gives a good description of what the US would be like if Dubya really was like Saddam (as some ANSWER-types claimed).

Posted by Miguel at 07:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

VI Day

I won't apologize for my excitement. Don't call me a warmonger. I never wore a yellow ribbon or a flag pin.

The left called for solidarity w/ the Iraqi people. OK. They're cheering in Baghdad! I wrote about Basra, Nasiriyah, others. Celebrating in Dearborn (and other Iraqi-American communities). Cheering and dancing in the streets all day. So, in solidarity w/ the long-suffered Iraqi people: Victory! Victory! Victory!

Posted by Miguel at 06:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

9 de abril

Today marks the anniversary of Bolivia's April Revolution. The celebrations will be subdued this year. Most Bolivian papers carry the Iraq war on their front pages. And Goni's MNR government is in serious political trouble these past few months. Last year was the 50th anniversary; I suppose 51 isn't that big a deal.

But there's no mistaking the Revolution's impact on the country. Victorious in the 1951 general election — even though suffrage at that time was limited to only Spanish-speaking, literate, males — the National Revolutionary Movement (MNR) was prevented from taking office by the military. Víctor Paz Estenssoro, the MNR leader, went into exile.

On an early morning, 9 April 1952, small groups of organized, clandestine, civilian militias took to the streets of La Paz and other major cities. Denied a political solution, it was time to use force. They quickly captured some heavier military equipment (like this anti-aircraft gun) and hastily built barricades. They waited for the army's onslaught.

From the main army barracks, an artillery regiment shelled popular neighborhoods. The police, which was to join the uprising, bowed out — a blow to the emenerristas. By nightfall, street fighting was intense. Hernán Siles Zuazo managed to establish a makeshift headquarters in the national soccer stadium (now named in his honor).

Just as it looked like the uprising would fail, cries of "¡Los mineros! ¡Los Mineros!" filtered through the barricades. The miners had arrived. Organized into their own militias, these hard men of the Andean mountain rock had seized the trains. In Sucre. In Potosí. In Oruro. They piled into the box cars and on the roofs - and rode through the night.

The victory marches were gigantic. Miners' militias in their dust-covered coveralls and heavy helmets. Aymaran peasant militias in their colorful ponchos and worn sandals. The women's militas, their black hair in precise buns as they marched in their baggy pants. Although the military came back to power in 1964, most of the MNR's victories remained. The mining industry nationalized. Agrarian reform. Aymara and Quechua recognized as official languages. Universal suffrage — for women, workers, peasants.

A few years ago, I attended the funeral of Ñuflo Chavez Ortiz, an MNR founder and director of the agrarian reform. He died, in his unassuming little house in Santa Cruz. The procession crowded the central plaza, winding towards the cathedral. I stood on the steps, left of the main door. A sea of politicians and simple people mixed together. Led by a dozen huge pink MNR flags.

Posted by Miguel at 01:09 PM | Permalink

Comic relief

Sometimes you need a little Baghdad Bob to make you smile. That's one popular name for Mohammed Saeed al-Sahhaf, Iraq's Information Minister (another is Comical Ali).

Posted by Miguel at 10:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

News digest

Some news stories on the war that should give anyone pause to think:

Posted by Miguel at 05:53 PM | Permalink

For those that still think this is a religious war against Muslims. This, from the BBC:

On Friday however, at 0430 (0130 GMT), in the minutes before the desert dawn, the voice of the Imam rang out.

What Saddam's Baath party had forbidden, the British Army had restored.

The townspeople, whose mosque was destroyed years ago, prayed in the privacy of their own homes.

But instead of their worship being a secret and dangerous thing, it was freely performed with new joy.

The 1st Battalion Royal Irish secured a public address system for the Imam and men from their attached Royal, Electrical and Mechanical Engineers installed it on Thursday night in time for Friday prayers.

Posted by Miguel at 11:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

When fighting's over in Iraq, if there's a victory parade, it should be led by the Free Iraqi Forces. And w/ Iraqi flags. They deserve it.

They fled their homes. And built new lives. Yet they volunteered, left new lives behind, to fight for friends, families, neighbors. Trained in Hungary, the 1st Battalion just arrived in Iraq.

Posted by Miguel at 03:18 AM | Permalink

Welcome home, Khuder

Khuder Al-Emeri, an Iraqi exile finally returned to his home village today. At the head of the 1st Battalion, Free Iraqi Forces (more). In the picture, he's hugging his 15-year-old son — for the first time in twelve years. Here's another amazing story (heartbreaking, actually).

Posted by Miguel at 07:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

White April Monday

Snow on my birthday. A sudden overnight winter storm blanketed the cityscape. I woke to see white on the ground outside, white hairs in the mirror. Twenty-eight years old.

Posted by Miguel at 04:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

We are not in Baghdad

This will be everywhere on the news tomorrow. The 2nd Brigade of the 3ID (supported by 3rd Battalion, 7th Infantry) captured and is holding Hussein's presidential palace, the Information Ministry, and other key buildings.

Posted by Miguel at 02:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Smoking gun?

Elements of a 101st discovered sarin nerve gas at a captured Iraqi facility near Albu Muhawish. Some US troops and Iraqi POWs were affected and had to be evacuated for decontamination. Sarin is one of those chemical weapons Iraq said it didn't have.

Posted by Miguel at 09:59 PM | Permalink

Beware of Japan

I'm not so sure North Korea is a threat to us anymore. I've come to the conclusion that Japan probably has it pretty much handled. After all, Japan announced (w/ very little fanfare, mind you) that if Kim Jong Il even looks at them funny they'll strike first. How's this possible? Let me explain.

Posted by Miguel at 03:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

International Law 102

I've been debating a theoretical issue of the practical implications international politics w/ a German named Marco. Here's an excerpt of the running debate:

Posted by Miguel at 12:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

A tour through Baghdad

I just got back from brunch w/ my good friend Apu. Turned the TV on and met a shock. A column of the 3rd Infantry Division was taking a leisurely tour of downtown Baghdad. Downtown Baghdad?! The embedded reporter was giving a voiceover of the film footage.

"We're passing by the presidential complex now, Kent. If you look to your left, you'll see the Iraqi Information Ministry building."

What?! Sure, there's some sporadic fighting. It was bayonet work for the marines (mostly against Hamas and Hezbollah volunteers) in the southern outskirts. Other marines were greeted w/ Coca-Cola and cigarettes at Aziziyah. But.

They're giving us a tour of downtown Baghdad! On TV. Live. What about the "million Mogadishus" Columbia professor De Genova hoped for so much? Too bad. I guess you don't get to see 1 billion dead Iraqis (do the math, 1,000 Somalis died in Mogadishu).

Add this to the long list of reasons for the war. British troops just discovered hundreds of boxes of (mutilated) human remains.

Associated Press Television News video showed the boxes stacked five high on one side of the warehouse, and other boxes were lined up on the other side. The video showed one skull that was missing front teeth and had a large hole in the nasal area. A British soldier held up folders containing lists written in Arabic.

British soldiers also discovered a catalogue of photographs of the dead. The relationship between the photographs and the remains was not immediately clear.

Still, Susan Sarandon can sleep comfortably; none of the bodies are American. "What has Iraq done to us?" Indeed.

Posted by Miguel at 12:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Still cheering

They cheered in Najaf. In Umm Qasr. In Safwan. In Zubayr. In Aziziyah (a suburb of Baghdad). In Basra, Iraqis and Royal Maries played soccer (the Iraqis won 9-3). Huh. You'd almost think that, like, maybe they're happy to be free of Hussein? Maybe?

Posted by Miguel at 03:22 PM | Permalink

Abuelita

Today is my abuelita's 78th birthday. My little 4-foot-5 Bolivian grandma. She's half-blind now, but she'll always have that spark in her eyes. She's tiny, but packs a mighty punch.

I remember, just a few years ago, walking to the bus stop w/ abuelita. We were just shy of the curb as a local micro swooshed to a stop to collect passengers. Then it started up down the street; Latin American micros don't really ever "stop." I'd already started scanning back for next micro (they seem to hurtle by every five minutes). And then I realized that abuelita had started running after the bus - running and beating the side w/ her swinging purse and cursing the bus driver in Quechua. The micro stopped; abuelita and I got on.

I shouldn't be surprised. Abuelita has more spunk and moxie than anyone in the family. Her forty-something-year-old sons turn into grade school children in her presence. "Bah!? You're not going to eat anything w/ your coffee? Here." She starts spreading orange marmalade on her son's bread. My uncles still half-hide the beer when abuelita swings by. "Shss! You'll make abuelita mad," says Tío Adrian as he puts my bottle of beer out of abuelita's sight. We're all grown men afraid our abuelita will catch us drinking.

In 1952, during the Revolution, abuelita served duty in the worker's militia. As the Revolutionary government was installing itself in La Paz (where she used to live), she did her duty. "Twice a week!" she beams w/ pride, holding up two fingers. The image of a tiny Oruro woman w/ a Mauser rifle (twice her size) is one of the funniest things I can imagine. But I know abuelita. I wouldn't want to be on the other end of that rifle. To this day, a faded pink MNR flag flies over their house every 9th of April.

But abuelita is also the sweetest thing. When I was sick, dad would drive me over to her house. I'd spend the day in her bed, drinking home remedies, watching television. She made the most beautiful stuffed animals, one especially made for each grandchild.

And abuelita taught me my very first lesson in practical politics. She always treated everyone w/ the same respect. It didn't matter who they were or what they did for a living. Once, when I was a small child, abuelita took me to the market. On the way, we met up w/ a truck mechanic who knew our family. Abuelita greeted him like a long-lost friend, kissed his cheek. When the man turned to shake my hand, I recoiled. "His hands are dirty, abuelita." She was incensed. "That man works for a living!" she barked. "His hands are never dirty."

To my abuelita, who taught me what it really means to be a democrat.

Posted by Miguel at 02:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Yep, I still do

Someone emailed me a New York Times story about Iraqi civilan casualties. They prefaced it w/ the question: "Do you still think this war is so great?" Since this person didn't provide a legitimate email address (my reply bounced back), I'll post my reply here:

Posted by Miguel at 03:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

International Law 101

I've been engaged in an ongoing email debate regarding "international law" and what it means. I stand by the assertion that - in the broader meaning of the word - there's no such thing as international law. At least not the way many think of it.

Posted by Miguel at 02:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

This is perhaps one of the best columns on embedded journalism and its impact on American society.

Oh, and for all the media pundits who thought the war had reached a quagmire a few days ago. The 3rd ID is now inside Baghdad city limits.

Posted by Miguel at 02:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Here's a war news story w/ a bit of humor (from Command Post):

Posted by Miguel at 06:49 PM | Permalink

Warblogging on CNN

I was watching CNN, primarily because the Battle of Baghdad just began. But CNN decided to run a story on blogging and how it's a real factor in this war.

Posted by Miguel at 12:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Farmington in chaos

For Emily and Bay Jo, who missed the last episode of The Shield: Season Two. And for Evil Bill and J. Edmund. You guys missed out. Big. Wow.

Posted by Miguel at 11:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Jackals gnashing teeth

When did hate crimes become acceptable ways to oppose war? There's been a recent spate of anti-war vandalism (much of it w/ racist and anti-semitic tones) aimed at public memorials and monuments. The desecration of a memorial to British soldiers who died in France during the First World War is one recent example:

Posted by Miguel at 06:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)