Amir Khan, the WBA light welterweight world champion, will fight against Dmitriy Salita this Saturday. Khan is from Bolton, England and is Muslim. Salita was born in Ukraine and now lives in Brooklyn, New York; Salita is Jewish.
It's important to remember that this is not a holy war; it's a boxing match. It's a boxing match between two rising fighters, who both need this win to reach the next level. With a win, Khan could move on to fight bigger names and garner worldwide attention. If Salita wins, he'll hold a belt and have the right to control his destiny.
But, with tensions between Muslims and Jews, this contest always has the possibility of fostering too much emotion among supporters of both men. It's shouldn't though. There's nothing wrong with backing your guy, and I'll be rooting hard for Salita, but not at the expense of the other guy's religion or ethnicity. There's something in boxing where, if a guy from your background knocks out someone from another group, many feel that suddenly your group is better than the other. That's not the case. It's perfectly acceptable to have pride when a member from your group triumphs, but a boxing match doesn't speak to a greater hierarchy of races, religions, or ethnicities.
And if you're Jewish or Muslim and still don't get it, just remember, after the final bell has rung, Khan and Salita will hug and they will congratulate each other on a tough fight. Just keep that in mind.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Fading Dreams
I laughed when teams fired their offensive coordinators even before the first regular season kickoff took place. Then the Bills followed the pattern. I've always scorned franchise who fire their coaches mid-season. Then the Bills cast aside Dick Jauron.
It's been a disappointing season, no doubt. We had playoff aspirations and, thus far, they haven't materialized. Trent Edwards seems to collapse after returning from injury. Terrell Owens hasn't produce as expected. But Jauron should have been given the chance to finish the season. If he had gone 4-3, he would have pulled off the team's fourth straight 7-9. While that isn't progress, it's certainly better than where the Bills were before his arrival. And where the team seems headed now.
However, the Perry Fewell-led Bills beat the Dolphins today. That makes up for a lot. It might be too early to dream of possible playoff scenarios should the team win out and finish 9-7. But that was a big game that will leave Bills fans smiling for a little while.
It's been a disappointing season, no doubt. We had playoff aspirations and, thus far, they haven't materialized. Trent Edwards seems to collapse after returning from injury. Terrell Owens hasn't produce as expected. But Jauron should have been given the chance to finish the season. If he had gone 4-3, he would have pulled off the team's fourth straight 7-9. While that isn't progress, it's certainly better than where the Bills were before his arrival. And where the team seems headed now.
However, the Perry Fewell-led Bills beat the Dolphins today. That makes up for a lot. It might be too early to dream of possible playoff scenarios should the team win out and finish 9-7. But that was a big game that will leave Bills fans smiling for a little while.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Kids Run Things
Children are our most precious resource. Or at least that's how we treat these mini morons. In the old days, and here I'm talking about the 1990s, children were left alone. They had to figure things out on their own. We're better for it now. But the kids today get everything handed to them. On long car rides, we had to listen to countless hours of Barbra Streissand and Neil Diamond. The hours were countless because we'd always get lost. Nowadays, these kids have their own personal DVD players and they can time their moves to the amount of time the trip will take according to the GPS system.
But progress has made these snot-drippers soft and stupid. They don't know how to get to their houses, they don't know their phone numbers. They don't remember other shit, because when they forget, they can just google it.
Have you ever had a conversation with one of these human monstrosities? Not only are they dumb, but they're socially-inept. If a child tells you they hate you and you tell them to shut the fuck up before punching them in the face, suddenly you're the bad guy. But if a real person tells you they hate you and you react in the same way, you were simply standing up for yourself. Which is it America? It's time to treat these freeloading stinkbombs like people so they don't turn out to be pampered out-of-touch D-list celebrities.
But progress has made these snot-drippers soft and stupid. They don't know how to get to their houses, they don't know their phone numbers. They don't remember other shit, because when they forget, they can just google it.
Have you ever had a conversation with one of these human monstrosities? Not only are they dumb, but they're socially-inept. If a child tells you they hate you and you tell them to shut the fuck up before punching them in the face, suddenly you're the bad guy. But if a real person tells you they hate you and you react in the same way, you were simply standing up for yourself. Which is it America? It's time to treat these freeloading stinkbombs like people so they don't turn out to be pampered out-of-touch D-list celebrities.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thanksgiving Message to the Gentiles
There has been a recent trend among the gentiles where they give thanks on the fourth Thursday of November and then go on a killing spree on Friday. Usually their murderous tirades occur at various WalMarts or other stores offering Black Friday sales.
I am asking, no begging and pleading, for the gentiles to show some patience, kindness, and compassion when entering a retail establishment as it opens its doors early Friday morning. If people fall in your rush to snatch a half-priced toaster intended for your mother-in-law, please stop your charge and help them rise to their feet. Instead of, you know, trampling them to death to save a few dollars.
I am asking, no begging and pleading, for the gentiles to show some patience, kindness, and compassion when entering a retail establishment as it opens its doors early Friday morning. If people fall in your rush to snatch a half-priced toaster intended for your mother-in-law, please stop your charge and help them rise to their feet. Instead of, you know, trampling them to death to save a few dollars.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The Failure of the Indian State
One fairly accurate method of judging the effectiveness of a state involves determining whether or not it can keep its public space free of garbage. If a government cannot even clean up its nation's garbage, it is a good indication of wider failure.
The random street in any Indian city- that doesn't possess an overly capable local administration- is lined with rubbish. The Mayor of Agra, Anjula Singh Mahaur, was criticized in the October 29 issue of Kolkata's The Telegraph for prancing on the catwalk with her celebrity friends as her promise to clean up her city's filth went unfulfilled. The article states that, "Tourist guides say the foreigners cover their noses when they see open drains and choked sewers" while visiting the city's most well-known monument, the Taj Mahal. But the aesthetic and aromatic standards of foreigners are not the point. The health of Agra's citizens, who are confronted by these unsanitary conditions year-round, should be the real concern of Mayor Mahaur.
Fareed Zakaria argued in his 2007 book, The Post American World, that India, as is the case with the United States, is a weak state, but a strong society. Bureaucratic inefficiency and political corruption have stunted India's ability to tackle the nation's many socio-economic troubles. India is, however, an ancient society, with a prolific history that has influenced our world. In addition, despite moments of tragic exception, India has been a place of tolerance for its many religions, tribes, and ethnicities.
I was asked by an NGO working with the health of pregnant women in rural Uttar Pradesh as to my opinion of India's democracy. I replied with tempered politeness, "It works, I guess." I then thought for a second knowing my audience expected more and added, "But it seems there is a scandal on television and in the papers every day." That answer was greeted with a roaring laugh of resignation. The most recent scandal involves former Jharkhand Chief Minister, Madhu Koda. Koda, who has been accused of money laundering an unconsciously vast sum, vows his innocence. But to believe him, you must accept the premise that thousands of people are in on a conspiracy to take down a former chief minister.
Setting aside politicians and garbage for the moment, the failure of the Indian state had disastrous results late last November. Mumbai, the country's largest city, fell victim to a terrorist attack as ten armed gunmen stormed its shores, frequented its populated areas, and killed indiscriminately on 26/11. The police acted ineptly, powerless to stop any of the devastation until the terrorists were too tired to continue killing. The Mumbai police could not keep its citizens safe. That is the ultimate test for any state and, when it mattered most, India's institutions failed. (International Edition)
The random street in any Indian city- that doesn't possess an overly capable local administration- is lined with rubbish. The Mayor of Agra, Anjula Singh Mahaur, was criticized in the October 29 issue of Kolkata's The Telegraph for prancing on the catwalk with her celebrity friends as her promise to clean up her city's filth went unfulfilled. The article states that, "Tourist guides say the foreigners cover their noses when they see open drains and choked sewers" while visiting the city's most well-known monument, the Taj Mahal. But the aesthetic and aromatic standards of foreigners are not the point. The health of Agra's citizens, who are confronted by these unsanitary conditions year-round, should be the real concern of Mayor Mahaur.
Fareed Zakaria argued in his 2007 book, The Post American World, that India, as is the case with the United States, is a weak state, but a strong society. Bureaucratic inefficiency and political corruption have stunted India's ability to tackle the nation's many socio-economic troubles. India is, however, an ancient society, with a prolific history that has influenced our world. In addition, despite moments of tragic exception, India has been a place of tolerance for its many religions, tribes, and ethnicities.
I was asked by an NGO working with the health of pregnant women in rural Uttar Pradesh as to my opinion of India's democracy. I replied with tempered politeness, "It works, I guess." I then thought for a second knowing my audience expected more and added, "But it seems there is a scandal on television and in the papers every day." That answer was greeted with a roaring laugh of resignation. The most recent scandal involves former Jharkhand Chief Minister, Madhu Koda. Koda, who has been accused of money laundering an unconsciously vast sum, vows his innocence. But to believe him, you must accept the premise that thousands of people are in on a conspiracy to take down a former chief minister.
Setting aside politicians and garbage for the moment, the failure of the Indian state had disastrous results late last November. Mumbai, the country's largest city, fell victim to a terrorist attack as ten armed gunmen stormed its shores, frequented its populated areas, and killed indiscriminately on 26/11. The police acted ineptly, powerless to stop any of the devastation until the terrorists were too tired to continue killing. The Mumbai police could not keep its citizens safe. That is the ultimate test for any state and, when it mattered most, India's institutions failed. (International Edition)
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Going Rogue: An Excerpt
Sarah Palin's book has changed my life. I now believe what she believes. Here's the excerpt that did the trick:
"When it comes to a woman's body, I support a culture of life, while soldiers fight for our freedom, there are many threats to our freedoms and liberties, the terrorists and abortion doctors, so that's why I am for a culture of life. Let me be clear, I do not support killing abortion doctors. Gee gosh, that's fanatical and wrong. I am for a culture of life and I am against anyone who might well be against that one of my values, if they are terrorists who kill our soldiers in Iraq or abortion doctors, those people need to face punishments. Do you want terrorists coming to your PTA meetings and determining the after school programs of your children? We must support a culture of life."
Palin, Sarah. Going Rogue. 2009. pg. 237.
That excerpt, located in a chapter about Palin's foreign policy towards Russia, is my new bible.
"When it comes to a woman's body, I support a culture of life, while soldiers fight for our freedom, there are many threats to our freedoms and liberties, the terrorists and abortion doctors, so that's why I am for a culture of life. Let me be clear, I do not support killing abortion doctors. Gee gosh, that's fanatical and wrong. I am for a culture of life and I am against anyone who might well be against that one of my values, if they are terrorists who kill our soldiers in Iraq or abortion doctors, those people need to face punishments. Do you want terrorists coming to your PTA meetings and determining the after school programs of your children? We must support a culture of life."
Palin, Sarah. Going Rogue. 2009. pg. 237.
That excerpt, located in a chapter about Palin's foreign policy towards Russia, is my new bible.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
What Are You Wearing?
In India, I saw people who wore the weirdest clothes. These people must have been insane to go out in public in those threads. Did they think everyone in the world is blind?
Who are these people? They weren't the Indians wearing salwar kameezes, kurtas, or saris. Those are all quite fashionable looks and hey, they've stood the test of time.
No. You can find these monstrocities throughout India, but they tend to congregate in the Paharganj slums of Delhi. It's the clothes that many of the foreigners wear. The worst ones seem to be localized to the Main Bazaar (what I've called the worst street in India). The foreigners there aren't "going native." "Going native" can often be as offensive as the name suggests, but done properly, can be a respectful gesture to a host society.
However, these foreigners aren't "going native." They wear clothes that they think are Indian, not clothes that Indians actually wear. There are sarongs that look like the pants version of that new blanket that comes with sleeves. I saw an older woman wearing a hat that looked like a fez on steroids. In my travels throughout India, I can safely say she was displaying the only one of those in the country. Unless there was another foreinger stupid enough to do so. There were plenty of long-flowing and tight-fitting hippie clothes from the 1960s- not simply stylistically but also, probably, in actuality as well. You could see the most bizarre tattoos. And then there were the dreads. White people with dreads. Old white people with dreads. I wonder if they wore jheri curls in the '80s.
It took every bit of my being not to walk up to these people and just start screaming, "What the fuck are you doing?" And if they mention that their style has something to do with India, I'd have a prepared answer that would involve beating them to death. Gandhi would have wanted it that way. Believe me.
Who are these people? They weren't the Indians wearing salwar kameezes, kurtas, or saris. Those are all quite fashionable looks and hey, they've stood the test of time.
No. You can find these monstrocities throughout India, but they tend to congregate in the Paharganj slums of Delhi. It's the clothes that many of the foreigners wear. The worst ones seem to be localized to the Main Bazaar (what I've called the worst street in India). The foreigners there aren't "going native." "Going native" can often be as offensive as the name suggests, but done properly, can be a respectful gesture to a host society.
However, these foreigners aren't "going native." They wear clothes that they think are Indian, not clothes that Indians actually wear. There are sarongs that look like the pants version of that new blanket that comes with sleeves. I saw an older woman wearing a hat that looked like a fez on steroids. In my travels throughout India, I can safely say she was displaying the only one of those in the country. Unless there was another foreinger stupid enough to do so. There were plenty of long-flowing and tight-fitting hippie clothes from the 1960s- not simply stylistically but also, probably, in actuality as well. You could see the most bizarre tattoos. And then there were the dreads. White people with dreads. Old white people with dreads. I wonder if they wore jheri curls in the '80s.
It took every bit of my being not to walk up to these people and just start screaming, "What the fuck are you doing?" And if they mention that their style has something to do with India, I'd have a prepared answer that would involve beating them to death. Gandhi would have wanted it that way. Believe me.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Terrified in America
I come back to America and people are scared shitless. The Right is scared of Obama. The Left is scared of the Right's fright.
It's all bullshit. This is the most powerful country in the world. Look at the eyes of an Indian teenager when you tell him you're from America. His face fills with delight. It's like explaining that you're from a world of endless chicken curry and handjobs.
Our society is strong. Our economy is strong. You have to be a fucking gymnast to avoid stepping on sleeping homeless people in India. They don't even call them "homeless people" over there; they're just "people." There's too many of them. If you've got a place to live, they call you a "house person."
So the next time you find yourself worrying about the direction of America or the status of the economy, shut the fuck up you perspective-lacking bastard.
It's all bullshit. This is the most powerful country in the world. Look at the eyes of an Indian teenager when you tell him you're from America. His face fills with delight. It's like explaining that you're from a world of endless chicken curry and handjobs.
Our society is strong. Our economy is strong. You have to be a fucking gymnast to avoid stepping on sleeping homeless people in India. They don't even call them "homeless people" over there; they're just "people." There's too many of them. If you've got a place to live, they call you a "house person."
So the next time you find yourself worrying about the direction of America or the status of the economy, shut the fuck up you perspective-lacking bastard.
Friday, November 20, 2009
In America
I tried to get my pictures developed from CVS, but it was gone. It's not a liquor store. It felt like I was in a bad after-school special about how you can't go home again. So I went to the other CVS, which is now just the CVS. After picking up my pictures, the guy, who was dressed in tatoos and exhibited a gritty voice complimented me on my pictures, although, when I saw them, a lot didn't come out well at all.
I never realized that beef was so difficult to digest. They still have that annoying Geico commerical with the bowling on tv. I've spent most of my time catching up on episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm and boxing. On Demand is a great thing. So is hot water!
I never realized that beef was so difficult to digest. They still have that annoying Geico commerical with the bowling on tv. I've spent most of my time catching up on episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm and boxing. On Demand is a great thing. So is hot water!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Back Home
The journey started with a taxi ride to Indira Gandhi Airport (the Reagan National of Indian airports). Predictably, the guy swerved, sped, and broke with nauseating frequency. At one point, I had to pee so bad, despite peeing twice within the hour already, that I asked him pull over so I could go on the side of the road. The trip should have been 45 minutes, but it took over an hour because of traffic. That, despite the fact that the driver went 95 (kilometers an hour) in a 40 zone.
The airport was a different world. I ordered two slices of pizza for a total of 180 rupees. Everyone spoke clear and fluent English. I saw that the prices for the duty free shops were in dollars, which embarrassed me.
On the plane, my seat was scheduled to be next to a small woman and her daughter. She asked me to move because she was with a child (who was like 8 years old, c'mon). I agreed. She said that a staff member would move me up to an open seat in the front. At first I thought it would be to the front of coach, one seat in front of us. But the three seats directly in front of us were soon filled. I allowed myself to get excited. Maybe 'the front' means first class! A 14 and half hour trip in first class!
Maybe I forgot who I was. I ended up sitting in the middle section of coach's first row (I hate the first row of coach), between two giant Indian men, who wrestled me for the arm rests the entire journey. They couldn't give me one arm rest, those assholes! The guy to my right was a real jerk. He wore a scratchy wool sport coat that draped over the arm rest. He constantly elbowed me in the bicep and never apologized. At one point, my hand was on the arm rest and plopped his elbow right on it. I had to squeeze my fingers from out between his arm and the arm rest. My revenge was not telling him that the little white sheet that they put on the head rests had found a new home velcroed to his wool jacket.
The plane ride went fast though. But I slept less than 2 hours. It would be a total of 36 hours from the point I woke up to when I could go to sleep for a while. I cleared customs quickly. The young agent had a heavy New Jersey accent and asked me some friendly questions about the trip with a smile on his face. The next flight home was easy. The toughest part of the journey home might have been the ride fromt he airport home with my mother at the wheel. it almost felt liek I was back in India, expect they continuously swerve for a reason.
The airport was a different world. I ordered two slices of pizza for a total of 180 rupees. Everyone spoke clear and fluent English. I saw that the prices for the duty free shops were in dollars, which embarrassed me.
On the plane, my seat was scheduled to be next to a small woman and her daughter. She asked me to move because she was with a child (who was like 8 years old, c'mon). I agreed. She said that a staff member would move me up to an open seat in the front. At first I thought it would be to the front of coach, one seat in front of us. But the three seats directly in front of us were soon filled. I allowed myself to get excited. Maybe 'the front' means first class! A 14 and half hour trip in first class!
Maybe I forgot who I was. I ended up sitting in the middle section of coach's first row (I hate the first row of coach), between two giant Indian men, who wrestled me for the arm rests the entire journey. They couldn't give me one arm rest, those assholes! The guy to my right was a real jerk. He wore a scratchy wool sport coat that draped over the arm rest. He constantly elbowed me in the bicep and never apologized. At one point, my hand was on the arm rest and plopped his elbow right on it. I had to squeeze my fingers from out between his arm and the arm rest. My revenge was not telling him that the little white sheet that they put on the head rests had found a new home velcroed to his wool jacket.
The plane ride went fast though. But I slept less than 2 hours. It would be a total of 36 hours from the point I woke up to when I could go to sleep for a while. I cleared customs quickly. The young agent had a heavy New Jersey accent and asked me some friendly questions about the trip with a smile on his face. The next flight home was easy. The toughest part of the journey home might have been the ride fromt he airport home with my mother at the wheel. it almost felt liek I was back in India, expect they continuously swerve for a reason.
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