As it frequently happens when an oppressive regime has been in power too long and too rigidly, the young and the dispossessed rise up and express their outrage. What we are seeing in Iran is this principle in action. The old regime, with their tight-fisted and inflexible rules, is suddenly faced with the first challenge to their authority. Perhaps the mullahs will act like the Soviets did in the Cold War days and try to crush the dissidents. Or maybe they will loosen up a bit, but I doubt it.
Now Pandora's box is open. The open communications of the Internet and Twitter and Facebook have opened up a new world to the youth in Iran, and they want to be part of this new world. The old regime may try to crush it, but liberty and free thought, once tasted, make a heady brew and cannot be eliminated.
Our president is playing the diplomatic game very well at this point, not wanting to give the old regime the chance to say the "Great Satans" of America are meddling in their affairs. But Barack Obama can quietly stir the pot and keep this spirit of liberty going.
If the Iranians start on a path of independence, perhaps it could be a beneficial domino effect in the Middle East and lead to some serious peace negotiations and mutual respect for each country's sovereignty. "'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."
Friday, June 19, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
THE AGE OF UNREASON
What is going on? The killing of the late-term abortion doctor, Dr. Tiller, the shooting of the guard at the Holocaust Museum---these recent extreme acts of a lunatic fringe seem to be mounting. Certainly, the unrest and malaise of our economic times add to the stress and generate action by these crazies. The polarization of competing ideologies adds fuel to the fire. I'm reminded of lines from The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats, my favorite poet of the twentieth century:
"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity."
Having always been something of a centrist, I do not like the extremes that create this anarchy. I recognize the fact that most major changes in the world, for better of for worse, usually come from the extremes, but ultimately the moderating forces go to work---and make things work.
Let us hope that people of sanity and clarity can keep control, that convictions for what is right and just are more than only "passionate intensity", that reason ultimately prevails.
"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity."
Having always been something of a centrist, I do not like the extremes that create this anarchy. I recognize the fact that most major changes in the world, for better of for worse, usually come from the extremes, but ultimately the moderating forces go to work---and make things work.
Let us hope that people of sanity and clarity can keep control, that convictions for what is right and just are more than only "passionate intensity", that reason ultimately prevails.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
WHO SAYS NICE GUYS FINISH LAST?
I believe it was baseball's Leo Durocher, the pugnacious shortstop and later manager (among others) of the Brooklyn Dodgers who coined the phrase, "Nice guys finish last." We now have living proof that it ain't necessarily so---Roger Federer finally won the French Open, for the first time after three previous trips to the finals, thus tying Pete Sampras with fourteen grand slam wins ,the most ever, and, by winning the French, doing something Sampras never achieved. Federer in the final beat in straight sets the Swede, Robin Soderling, the man who had knocked out the Clay Court King, #1 ranked Rafael Nadal, in the third round of the tournament.
So few champions in any sport have shown the grace, charm and good spirit of Roger Federer. The will to win and to focus on an objective are supreme in this great athlete, but, while his competitive fires burn bright, he remains a symbol of true sportsmanship. Hemingway once described courage as "grace under pressure". Roger Federer epitomizes this definition.
At 27 he is probably on the downside of his victory curve, but I would not be surprised if he has another grand slam or two in his future.
Here's to a gracious athlete who can be a living example to all the smart asses who thump their chests and crow about their prowess. Federer lives it but still has time to be a good guy, respected and held in real affection by his peers.
Sorry, Leo, you weren't always right---thank God.
So few champions in any sport have shown the grace, charm and good spirit of Roger Federer. The will to win and to focus on an objective are supreme in this great athlete, but, while his competitive fires burn bright, he remains a symbol of true sportsmanship. Hemingway once described courage as "grace under pressure". Roger Federer epitomizes this definition.
At 27 he is probably on the downside of his victory curve, but I would not be surprised if he has another grand slam or two in his future.
Here's to a gracious athlete who can be a living example to all the smart asses who thump their chests and crow about their prowess. Federer lives it but still has time to be a good guy, respected and held in real affection by his peers.
Sorry, Leo, you weren't always right---thank God.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
REMEMBRANCE OF THING PAST: 1944
It is hard to believe it has been sixty-five years since D-Day. I remember I had just returned home to Ohio from my junior year at prep school in Pennsylvania and listening to some of the live reports from war correspondents as that traumatic day enfolded. This anniversary triggers more memories of one of the most vividly dramatic periods of my life, World War II.
My family was deeply involved in the war with my two older brothers both serving in the military. The middle brother. Alfred, I described in my blog of May 25, 2009, was killed in the Phillippines later in January of 1945. My oldest brother, Henry, had gone overseas in the spring of 1944, assigned as a Navigator on a B-24 Liberator in Foggia, Italy in the 15th Air Force of the Army Air Corps. (Remember, in those days, the Air Force was still part of the Army.) He and his crew flew thirty-five missions and, thank God, lived to tell the tale. Their crew had several, to use an old Air Force expression. "hairy" experiences.
The most memorable reads likes an implausible hollywood script for some B movie with Ronald Reagan.
On their 13th mission, on Friday, October 13, 1944 at about 1300 hours, their B-24 was hit by flak while bombing Vienna. A black pilot in a P-47 Thunderbolt, trying to protect them, was also hit. The two planes tried to limp home to their bases in Italy but could not make it, and they all bailed out over the mountainous terrain of what was then Yugoslavia. They all made it safely to the ground. My brother, Hank, just like the Hollywood script would dictate, landed in a haystack! As he gathered himself together, running toward him was a peasant woman with a rifle and cartridge belt slung over her body. Oh shit, thought my brother, I'm in deep trouble. He put up his hands and said, "Americanski". The peasant women smiled and rushed up to embrace him. She was one of the Partisans of Marshall Tito, the Yugoslav patriot who fought against the Nazis.
The Partisans assembles the whole crew of nine plus the P-47 pilot who had tried to protect the B-24 and took them in. They stayed with the Partisans for almost two weeks. At one point, Hank , who had often spent summers on a ranch in Montana and loved to ride, rode out with the Partisans as they reconnoitered for German troops fighting the Partisans in these mountains. Hank laughingly recalls dancing one night with a pretty Partisan girl who also had ammunition belts strung over her shoulders!
The Partisans then hid the whole group in hay wagons and sneaked through the German lines, posing as farmers, and took them to Sofia, Bulgaria where Russian transport planes used to land to refuel on their way to pick up supplies from Allied forces in Italy. The American boys persuaded the Russian pilots to let them hitch a ride---and they all got back to Italy, safe and sound.
Then they flew twenty-two more missions. They were then sent home and were sent for "R&R" in southern California. My brother had a brief leave at home before going to rest camp, and he was obviously suffering from "combat fatigue", as they euphimistically called it in those days, and needed the rest camp. He was offered the opportunity to be a lead squadron Navigator on B-29s in the Pacific, but he respectfully declined, having done more than his share and having accumulated enough combat points to be honorably discharged in June of 1945 as the war was beginning to wind down, the European phase ending in May of 1945 and the Pacific part terminating after the atomic bombs in August 1945.
It was a real war. Those memories don't seem like 65 years ago.
My family was deeply involved in the war with my two older brothers both serving in the military. The middle brother. Alfred, I described in my blog of May 25, 2009, was killed in the Phillippines later in January of 1945. My oldest brother, Henry, had gone overseas in the spring of 1944, assigned as a Navigator on a B-24 Liberator in Foggia, Italy in the 15th Air Force of the Army Air Corps. (Remember, in those days, the Air Force was still part of the Army.) He and his crew flew thirty-five missions and, thank God, lived to tell the tale. Their crew had several, to use an old Air Force expression. "hairy" experiences.
The most memorable reads likes an implausible hollywood script for some B movie with Ronald Reagan.
On their 13th mission, on Friday, October 13, 1944 at about 1300 hours, their B-24 was hit by flak while bombing Vienna. A black pilot in a P-47 Thunderbolt, trying to protect them, was also hit. The two planes tried to limp home to their bases in Italy but could not make it, and they all bailed out over the mountainous terrain of what was then Yugoslavia. They all made it safely to the ground. My brother, Hank, just like the Hollywood script would dictate, landed in a haystack! As he gathered himself together, running toward him was a peasant woman with a rifle and cartridge belt slung over her body. Oh shit, thought my brother, I'm in deep trouble. He put up his hands and said, "Americanski". The peasant women smiled and rushed up to embrace him. She was one of the Partisans of Marshall Tito, the Yugoslav patriot who fought against the Nazis.
The Partisans assembles the whole crew of nine plus the P-47 pilot who had tried to protect the B-24 and took them in. They stayed with the Partisans for almost two weeks. At one point, Hank , who had often spent summers on a ranch in Montana and loved to ride, rode out with the Partisans as they reconnoitered for German troops fighting the Partisans in these mountains. Hank laughingly recalls dancing one night with a pretty Partisan girl who also had ammunition belts strung over her shoulders!
The Partisans then hid the whole group in hay wagons and sneaked through the German lines, posing as farmers, and took them to Sofia, Bulgaria where Russian transport planes used to land to refuel on their way to pick up supplies from Allied forces in Italy. The American boys persuaded the Russian pilots to let them hitch a ride---and they all got back to Italy, safe and sound.
Then they flew twenty-two more missions. They were then sent home and were sent for "R&R" in southern California. My brother had a brief leave at home before going to rest camp, and he was obviously suffering from "combat fatigue", as they euphimistically called it in those days, and needed the rest camp. He was offered the opportunity to be a lead squadron Navigator on B-29s in the Pacific, but he respectfully declined, having done more than his share and having accumulated enough combat points to be honorably discharged in June of 1945 as the war was beginning to wind down, the European phase ending in May of 1945 and the Pacific part terminating after the atomic bombs in August 1945.
It was a real war. Those memories don't seem like 65 years ago.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
YOU WANT EGG ROLL WITH YOUR HUMMER?
You have probably read about GM divesting itself of the Hummer Division, which was sold to a Chinese private manufacturing company, Sichuan Tengzhong Heavy Industrial Machinery who make all kinds of road equipment ranging from bridge piers to highway construction and maintenance machinery as well as recently moving into heavy trucks, like tow trucks and oil tankers.
I find it mind-blowing that a company in a Communist state-controlled economy wants to pick up the symbol of "conspicuous consumption" (as the economist Verblen referrred to showy assets), the very metaphor for capitalist yuppiness, that gas-guzzling-but-who-gives-a-shit behemoth of the road with its 3-5 miles per gallon gas consumption. Maybe they want to create a yuppy class in Red China! They make noises about increasing the fuel efficiency. Does that mean increasing it from 3-5 to 8-10 m.p.g.?
Some wag-blogger on the internet broke me up with the comment to the effect: oh, good, now we can buy our military vehicles from the enemy! I wonder if, instead of armor-plating the underside, they'll probably use tinfoil...
They also say they will continue to make the Hummer here in the U.S.A. They have no choice for now in order to get the product on the market, but do you want to take a bet how long that will last?
Americans are so used to their big wheels that it is going to take a seismic shift in attitudes to adjust to smaller, more fuel-efficient cars. Every time gas prices jump, we say that we've got to change; then, when they drop, we go back to our old "hit the road" ways. G.M. had to get rid of the Hummer and are shopping around to sell Saab and Saturn. Pontiac is a dead issue. (I wonder whatever happened to my ragtop maroon '69 G.T.O. with 450 horsepower---what a bomb!)
I wonder if the new Hummer, in the best Chinese style, will offer options: like two from column A and one from column B.
I find it mind-blowing that a company in a Communist state-controlled economy wants to pick up the symbol of "conspicuous consumption" (as the economist Verblen referrred to showy assets), the very metaphor for capitalist yuppiness, that gas-guzzling-but-who-gives-a-shit behemoth of the road with its 3-5 miles per gallon gas consumption. Maybe they want to create a yuppy class in Red China! They make noises about increasing the fuel efficiency. Does that mean increasing it from 3-5 to 8-10 m.p.g.?
Some wag-blogger on the internet broke me up with the comment to the effect: oh, good, now we can buy our military vehicles from the enemy! I wonder if, instead of armor-plating the underside, they'll probably use tinfoil...
They also say they will continue to make the Hummer here in the U.S.A. They have no choice for now in order to get the product on the market, but do you want to take a bet how long that will last?
Americans are so used to their big wheels that it is going to take a seismic shift in attitudes to adjust to smaller, more fuel-efficient cars. Every time gas prices jump, we say that we've got to change; then, when they drop, we go back to our old "hit the road" ways. G.M. had to get rid of the Hummer and are shopping around to sell Saab and Saturn. Pontiac is a dead issue. (I wonder whatever happened to my ragtop maroon '69 G.T.O. with 450 horsepower---what a bomb!)
I wonder if the new Hummer, in the best Chinese style, will offer options: like two from column A and one from column B.
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