A Beautiful Closer

Oh, reader! It is time - the first of my yearly quests is almost at an end! Tomorrow I will return to my humble abode in mainland Britain, leaving the overbearing heat of Arizona far behind me. It has been a fantastic journey, escorting you through my various opinions and thoughts, but the school year is complete and now it is time for a break. Yet, as I've said before, writing is no longer an option, but a compulsion, so expect the odd update from my perspective back home after I've acclimatised. I will be back mid-way through August when this blog will be back to full force, with months of pent-up frustration and gritty angst ready to explode from my fingertips. I shall leave you in the same vein as I began, with an article relevant to our times. The much-mentioned Ian McEwan has been the object of our praise many times over, but here I bring you a much shorter work of non-fiction, written for Christopher Hitchens' compendium, The Portable Atheist, but also published in The Guardian some time ago. I cannot possibly summarise the message of the piece, but the title is 'The Day of Judgement', reflecting on the current crescendo of our death-wish culture, manifesting itself in suicide bombings and the bringing on of the apocalypse for religious purposes. I've been meaning to bring this to you for some time, but today and now seems the perfect time to do so, befitting of the somber mood of this post. Early into McEwan's piece he eloquently reminds us: "we cannot know the date of our demise, but we know the date must fall within a certain window of biological possibility which, as we age, must progressively narrow to its closing point", beautifully paraphrased by Philip Larkin in his poem, 'Aubade':

... The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

Robert Mugabe and Nelson Mandela

Robert Mugabe is winning the race to become the world's most repugnant person. Indeed, he's even been knighted by the Queen (I hate to say I told you so) in 1994, after his period of mass murder between 1982 and 1987 where he was estimated to have killed roughly 10,000 people in Zimbabwe. If you haven't been affected by the news coverage of Mugabe's pillaging regime since the prospect of democratic liberation in March, when they held the largely-ignored general election, then you haven't been alive. Obviously, the question then arises: What should we do? The UN has proved ineffective as usual, and condemning words from our salient role model, Gordon Brown, has only acted as a platform for Mugabe to plump up middle-age rhetoric about white imperialism. Should we wish to flex our international muscles and demonstrate again that we will not be talked to in this way by sending in the troops, this would be met with another wave of smarmy criticism from the growing numbers of Iraq-opposers, yet, more pragmatically, we simply don't have the resources anyway. And so, we're left with what we like to do normally, because it's safe: write about it in our papers, which is ultimately futile. In this vein, the New Statesman fills its front cover with photographs of riled Zimbabweans, and Peter Hain declares it's "Time to confront Mugabe" - with what exactly he doesn't say. Although, he does conclude that the election should be monitored internationally and an exit plan must be formulated, but he doesn't say how, probably because it's near impossible to actually implement what he so heroically suggests.

What I propose is a direct and systematic plea to Africa's key political figures, importantly, those whom Mugabe respects, to denounce the blunders of Mugabe's regime and decry the violent brutalization of democratic advocates. Primarily, I call upon Nelson Mandela, a first-hand witness to the dirtied hand of white imperialism, but also a revolutionary statesman for South Africa who negotiated a multi-racial democracy (someone who Mugabe does respect). However, according to George Bizos, Mandela's solicitor during his time as the president of South Africa, Mandela's doctor has warned him not to undergo stressful activities. Scoff, dear reader, scoff. This lame-duck excuse is pitiful and an insight into racial tensions among even the most advanced African lands. In the words of Christopher Hitchens last Monday, "By his silence about what is happening in Zimbabwe, Mandela is making himself complicit in the pillage and murder of an entire nation, as well as the strangulation of an important African democracy." Mandela has the influence to potentially quell the devastation of one of Africa's most resource-rich countries, but instead he reverts to the keep-safe fence-sitters of the African National Congress and, until very recently, Thabo Mbeki. Furthermore, Mugabe has been a devout Roman Catholic since childhood, enough so to warrant an invite to the late Pope John Paul II's funeral in 2007, despite a ban on his presence at any EU nation from 2003 onwards. He was able to get around this little snag, claiming that he was on Vatican soil, therefore, not encroaching onto his prohibition. When will the Vatican and the Catholic Church start using their waning influence to the best possible degree by excoriating the loathsome actions of one of its "flock"? Yet again, the feeble-minded individuals anointing these positions of international authority fail to make just little impact on the lives of thousands of starving, terrified, debilitated men, women, and children in Zimbabwe.

On being 'Caucasian'

All of you will, in all likelihood, have been made at some point to fill in a survey where one of the defining questions is about ethnicity. If it were up to me, this would not feature at all as a categorising demographic limiter, lest we forget that "race" is a social construct (there is, in fact, the "Human" race, but that's about it). My white readers will, by the process of elimination, have probably been forced to select "Caucasian" as their colour/background, etc. Caucasian seems to have become synonymous with the word "white". Why? Perhaps this is a politically correct balancing act, where whites need to be viewed as something other than "white" in case we say we're being unfairly pigeon-holed on the basis of our skin tone. This is what separates those decrying racism as an act of prejudice, against those decrying racism as an institutionalized social trend. This, it appears to me, purports to those sensitive bed-wetters who wish not to "offend". Caucasians originally inhabited the blocks south-east of continental Europe: Russia through Turkey - Eurasia, defined predominantly during the 18th century. As far as I have traced, I have no direct descent from anywhere near that area; my ancestors stem from Northern Europe, Ireland, Italy, and India. Indeed, the language I speak does not inherit any of the Caucuses many dialects, apart from, arguably, the Arabic numerals that 60% of the world's population likewise employs. Nor do I buy into the Caucasian belief system - putting faith in Zeus and practicing and revering magic. The linkage seems to be more centered on the shape of one's skull than one's skin colour, and I may have a similar skull in terms of size and dimension, but why is the assumption made that I am, therefore, "Caucasian"? The next time you are left with this as your only option, with the typical parenthetical whimsicality: "(white)", leave the fucking question blank.

I've said it before and I'll say it again...

Hazel Blears is the most appalling women in the world.

Rip

It takes something, or someone, very special to better the original when covering a song. I can think of just one popular example, being Jeff Buckley's cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, but there are other lesser known examples, such as Biffy Clyro's cover of Rihanna's Umbrella, or Johnny Cash's cover of Nine Inch Nails' Hurt. And so, as Radiohead cart around the world in their tour bus, naturally avoiding flying at all costs, it comes as a wonderful surprise to see them upload a video of themselves playing an amazing acoustic version of Portishead's The Rip, off their album, Third, which, if you haven't already listened to, is incredible. Radiohead are not known for their covers by any stretch of the imagination. In the past, scarce recordings have surfaced, such as Carly Simon's Nobody does it Better (introduced as "the sexiest song ever written"), Can's The Thief, and even the Manic Street Preacher's classic If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next. They have never been a band to dwell on other bands' material, whether that be for respectful purposes or the wish to not be seen as fawning, but they have always been targets for cover versions themselves, recently made famous by that wanker, Prince, and other leechers like Alanis Morrisette and Jamie Cullum. Need I say any more, dear reader? Well yes. Radiohead have a strange knack of improving upon an original; not through stamping their mark all over it, but through careful consideration and due respect. I recommend the following links, which have all come in a flurry during 2008 after a career long (relative) silence on other bands' work: New Order's Ceremony; Bjork's Unravel; The Smiths' Headmaster's Ritual, and now, Portishead's The Rip.

Venting

I am not supporting Poland in the European Cup, by any means, but they should have won their match with Austria, the joint hosts, were it not for a comedy of errors by our English refereeing representative. Howard Webb has just let down the English League with his poor representation of our home refereeing. Himself and the board of directors should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves. His bookings, fumbling use of the 'advantage' rule, and decision to allow a retake of the final free-kick, resulting in the non-penalty, was typical of a useless percentile of officials in this competition so far. Our English heritage does not look good, firstly with the shambles of Graham Poll's three yellow card fiasco, now exploring new depths with this blind-sighted mank. If I had a penny...

The Poor old C of E

Having read David Aaronovitch's columns for The Times for nearly six months, he's finally produced something very worthy of a post on this blog. Attacking the Church of England's latest entitlement cry, he states appropriately that this is simply a whining, self-pitying reflection of their inferior public focus in comparison to Islam. Something that the Church's report, Moral, but No Compass, wholly fails to acknowledge is its continued financial support and subsidy under Labour. They now have much greater freedom to construct segregated faith schools, and they continue to be state-funded, along with the tax breaks imposed upon the Church from the offset. Aaronovitch also illuminates a fact often forgotten; 26 of the current House of Lords are bishops of the Church. And so, even though the recent 42-day detention bill has passed parliament, it will take something special to get it through the backward, floppy-haired, dauphins of the Queen. The next time someone lamely points out that Britain is becoming very secular indeed, you remind them of the above.

Hillary Clinton

Hillary's postponed retreat from the Democratic race came as a surprise to many people in America who thought she would win fairly comfortably as the first genuine female candidate, but also one with "experience" and historic connections. Now that she's gone, some have started to ask where it all went horribly wrong, apart from the fact that Obama has orchestrated a grass roots revolution with his networking and oratorical rhetoric. Amy Sullivan argues in Time that Clinton divided feminists into two sections, optimist and pessimist feminists, that identified against one another, causing Obama to win the hearts of many women below the age of 30 and so on. Meghan O'Rourke states in Slate that Clinton "wasn't feminist enough" [emphasis mine], claiming that there's been a distinct change in Clinton: "the substance of her presidential run seems far more dismal than I would ever have imagined back in 1995". Both of these viewpoints are, however, from my perspective, wrong. The reason Clinton lost to Obama was because of her lies, untruths, questionability, etc. If, like me, you think of leeches, vampires, and Pinocchio, things of that sort, whenever you think of Hillary Clinton, you will know of her bullshit. Let's take a brief run through of the smarmy 'miss-speaks' of her campaign:

• She told the story of her girl's soccer team at high school where she made a quick-witted jibe at her counterpart. However, there was no girl's soccer team at her high school during the time she was there.
• She met Sir Edmund Hillary, famous for being the first man to climb Everest, at an airport and told him that her mother had chosen her name in homage to the great climber, and yet he did not surmount Everest until five years after she was born.
• She claimed that her daughter, Chelsea, was in danger on September 11th, but she was relaxing at home in front of the TV watching it unfold.
• She claimed she was instrumental in bringing peace to Northern Ireland. She wasn't.
• She claimed victories in the Florida and Michigan primaries as a slight ruse to rally her flailing supporters into blind delusion, even though these states were discounted from the Primary season.
• Last but certainly not least, her claim that she came under sniper fire upon arrival in Bosnia - also, that she was sent instead of her husband because of the immense danger of the trip (in other words, she reckons her life was more dispensable as First Lady). This like all others, has been categorically debunked in video montages repeatedly on the web.

Feminists should take offence at the claim that they are so narrow minded as to fore-go the wretchedness of Hillary Clinton merely to have a female candidate. To suggest that Hillary lost because she did not appeal to female voters is an insult to female voters.

A Decorated Return

Well, well, ladies and gents, I have returned at last. The meet in Omaha was a thoroughly enjoyable experience in a luxurious pool in a quaint little town. They've set up a temporary pool in the Qwest arena, which normally hosts basketball games, for this meet and the upcoming US Olympic Trials later this month. My race results were a mixed bag, doing much better in the relays than in my individual events (quite telling of the psychology that goes with racing). However, I did manage to pick up some hardware: a bronze on day one in the 4x100 freestyle relay, and a gold on the last day with the 4x100 medley team. It was the final race of the meet and I anchored the team of Albert Subirats (Venezuela), Josh Arreguin (Mexico), and Jake Tapp (Canada). And so, without further introduction, here it is.

Timely Update

I regret to inform you that, as of tomorrow, I will be leaving Tucson once again for a trip to middle America. Omaha is hosting a swim meet at a critical time of year for American athletes preparing for the Olympic Trials. It's a fast pool and I'll keep you informed as to my progress, posting any slack-jawed video clips if they surface. Speaking of which, during my absence two incredibly rare pieces of footage found themselves on Youtube this week - Radiohead performing live in 1996 trying out new material for the 1997 masterpiece, OK Computer. Someone had the foresight to record two long, lost, unrecorded tracks of timeless mastery, Lift and I Promise. It's now exactly two weeks until they play their first show in London. I've got my tickets. Have you?

Unweaving Coorperation

You may have noticed that I haven't been my usual self recently. As it happens, this is mainly because I have retaken up my ongoing exploration of biological and sociological readings, restarting where I left off, completing John Maynard Smith's The Theory of Evolution (I'm not embarrassed to say, flying straight over my head), moving on to Robert Axelrod's The Evolution of Cooperation, as per the recommendation by my good friend. The title is slightly misleading as it suggests particular investigation of evolution, whereas it actually pertains a whole new field of contemporary thought. The book's organizing principle is the 'Prisoner's Dilemma', whereby players are given a choice: reciprocate cooperation for a reasonable pay-off, defect at the others expense to gain a larger pay-off, or find yourself both defecting to receive a meagre pay-off. I suggest you click on my link directing you to the Wikipedia page for a better explanation. The premise works well mathematically and theoretically, because patterns can be found and models drawn on the best way of achieving the largest possible pay-off. The findings are then easily implemented into everyday scenarios, most impressive of which is the "live-and-let-live" mentality adopted by the forces fighting on the Western Front during the First World War. Both allied and enemy forces knew that killing an opponent in the opposite trench would doubtlessly induce a casualty on your side as an act of reciprocity. The inevitable stand off, at the dismay of the army officers, produced the laborious stalemate of 1917. Wondrously, Axelrod created a primitive piece of computer software to emulate the 'Prisoner's Dilemma' and then invited anyone and everyone to write an adjacent piece of programming for exactly that: produce the largest possible pay-off. Axelrod then bid entrant's submissions against each other to see who came out of top. Conclusively, a "Tit-for-Tat" model won by a long way, proving that ruthlessness nor generosity is the better policy - if your counterpart backhands you, backhand him back, and vice versa. No doubt my synopsis is shaky, but I cannot recommend this book more highly. I encourage you to explore the surrounding literature also. As Richard Dawkins states in his characteristically eloquent foreword: "The world's leader should be locked up with this book and not released until they have read it." Incidentally, Dawkins is my current port of call; after reading the excellent Climbing Mount Improbable, I find myself now reading his follow-up book on the magistry and poetry of the universe and life itself, Unweaving the Rainbow. I'll keep you informed.