Pajamas in Washington DC

The New Neo Posted on by

I’ve been in DC since yesterday and busy, busy, busy, although one of the things I’ve not been busy with is writing and blogging. I should be returning to my regularly scheduled program of blogging shortly, but for now I’ll just briefly describe the events.

One never knows how these things will turn out, but this one has been wonderful, although a bit of a whirlwind. So many bloggers and/or journalists in one room makes for a heady experience. The official panel discussion is the centerpiece, and last night’s distinguished itself by being fascinating, substantive, and entertaining. But the panel was only part of what people come here for (they really come for the appetizers, of course–and these were not too shabby–and the bar).

No, the main deal is talking to other bloggers, and to the other assembled luminaries. Among the bloggers I got to meet for the first time were the mysterious Baron Boddissey, as well as Fausta, and the globe-hopping Michael Totten. Then there are literary and journalistic luminaries such as the petite and charmingly French Nidra Pollner, the petite and charmingly American Claudia Rosett, both of whose work I admire greatly; it was good to be able to tell them so in person. Likewise Michael Barone (looking exactly as he does on television–although that’s what one expects, it’s always a little bit unexpected, as well), the pajamas-clad (well, for part of the evening, anyway) and entertaining Richard Miniter, and the witty Cliff May.

There were so many wonderful bloggers there that it would become a tedious laundry list to mention even half of them. But there was nothing tedious about the experience of meeting them–or, in many cases, renewing what’s now becoming an old acquaintance and even a friendship. As I’ve said before, blggers in person are a highly energized and intense bunch, and we sure can talk. And talk and talk and talk, into the wee hours of the morning.

I’m about to do some more talking–and a bit of sightseeing and eating as well. So I’ll cut this short by simply recycling a piece I wrote from the last Pajamas meetup back in November of 2005.

The cast of characters is a bit different in its details–and another change is that Roger Simon no longer wears a fedora (the shaved head is the current look). But it’s still true that:

I find it an extraordinary experience to meet people backwards: that is, to meet their minds first and their bodies second. You get to know people in a totally different way as, day after day, you read what they are thinking without ever having met them in the flesh.

You don’t even realize how many preconceptions (and perhaps misconceptions) you are building up until you meet the person him/herself. Sometimes the meeting shatters those preconceptions utterly. Far more often, however, the person you meet is both similar and somewhat different from the one you had expected: younger, older; livelier, shyer; more fidgety, calmer; funnier, more solemn. Then you superimpose the new template on the old and merge the two, and now you know the person in a fuller, rounder sense.

And so it is that I am very happy to have met these and so many other old friends (and new), and to have made the pictures of them in my mind’s eye more complete.

The ex-President’s analysts

The New Neo Posted on by

Forgive me for being so slow on the draw to post a link to the latest Sanity Squad podcast, but yesterday I spent the day flying to Washington, DC and then doing the Pajamas Media thing.

The Squad talks about President Clinton’s interview with Chris Wallace, including the larger issues it raises: blame, responsibility, narcissism, strategy, and the behavior of ex-Presidents.

The spook who came in from the cold

The New Neo Posted on by

Take a look at a new blog (new to me, at least)–and an interesting one–by someone who claims to be a former US military intelligence officer. I like the title: In From the Cold, paraprasing the John Le Carre novel (via Roger Simon).

The blogger’s pseudonum is “Spook 86” (his age? the year he came in from the cold?) See what you think.

Light blogging day. I’ve been traveling–will fill you in later.

Parsing the Pope’s words; having a “dialogue”

The New Neo Posted on by

The Pope hosted Moslem leaders in a conference today, giving a five-minute speech that sounded conciliatory, at least from the short excerpts published (I can’t find a full transcript). Although he didn’t offer an apology for his previous remarks, the topic was working together to overcome historic enmities between the two faiths.

The feeling tone was good, too. The Pope “greeted [the envoys] one-by-one, clasping their hands warmly.”

Iraqi Albert Edward Ismail Yelda seemed happy: “The Holy Father stated his profound respect for Islam. This is what we were expecting…It is now time to put what happened behind and build bridges.”

Al Jazeera televised the speech in its entirety. The Vatican, in an unusual move, offered an Arabic translation of the text in its press releases.

So, according to Mohamed Nour Dachan, an Syrian-Italian-Moslem “The dialogue goes on….The dialogue is a priority for both Muslims and Christians.”

Ah, that wonderful buzz-word, “dialogue.” It’s an article of faith that “dialogue” is the first step to understanding. And, of course, it can be; it’s sort of like that well-known goal of all marriage therapists, “communication.”

But both these things depend on other elements being present for their success. There’s no doubt that some Christians and some Moslems do have common goals, and productive dialogue is possible between them. But for those Moslems who don’t share those goals, all the dialogue in the world will not alter a thing. Islamist totalitarian Moslems are not interested; “dialogue” with other faiths tends, for them, to be a tool to stall for time or to trick the enemy.

And, in fact, moderate Moslems who are interested in such dialogue seem afraid of the Islamist totalitarians, as well they should be. They are their enemy, too, as well as ours. Note the following details in the article about the Pope’s talk:

Nearly all the other envoys left without speaking to reporters. The embassies of Egypt and Turkey said their ambassadors would have no comment. The Iranian, Indonesian, Lebanese and Libyan embassies did not answer their phones.

It’s interesting that the quotes showing approval of the Pope’s speech were from the Iraqi and the Italian. They are free to speak. What about the others? And what would they say if they could speak? Because one of the main thrusts of the Pope’s words was reciprocity in allowing religious freedom, and in the goal of ending religious intolerance.

Islam is a supersessionist religion. It prohibits proselytizing by other religions, and the punishment for Moslem apostates is still death. Those facts are not consistent with the Pope’s words about religious freedom, try though we might to believe otherwise.

Could this change? Of course. Christianity changed in its supersessionist and even violent strains. But there has to be the will to do so, the time to do so before some sort of world conflagration, and enough of those famous “moderate Moslems” brave enough to do so in the face of the threats against them to make a difference.

Airport security: no nunchuks, no gellin’

The New Neo Posted on by

Yes, it’s official: now you can bring your beyond-the-checkpoint-purchased beverages on board the plane. What’s more, you can bring little bottles of hair gel and face cream and all that good stuff, as long as they’re small enough to fit in a quart-sized ziplock bag.

Toothpaste is now allowed, a relief when freshening up to meet the boyfriend/girlfriend, or even the spouse. Also that tube of Blistex, so handy during lengthy flights in the dessicating cabin air.

But the carton of yogurt, staple alternative to airplane food, is still not okay, even if purchased in the airport shop. And, sadly, there’ll be no gellin’ in the old airport tonight. No, gel shoe inserts remain banned.

But please, leave the cattle prods at home. Or, if you simply must have them, pack them in the checked luggage. Likewise the drill bits, ordinarily so diverting during those long flights. The nunchuks will have to go in the checked luggage as well. Not to mention the billy clubs.

And the dynamite and the hand grenades? Leave em at home.

Small scissors, however, are mysteriously still OK.

Fall ritual: closing the windows

The New Neo Posted on by

Today is the first day of fall.

I never quite get that date right, because it drifts around in confusing fashion (here’s a guidepost for those of you who care about such things). This year it also happens to be the beginning of the Jewish New Year Rosh Hashana (Happy New Year!), which also drifts about with even wider variation, based on the lunar calendar.

I’ve always loved fall. In fact, it’s my favorite season, despite (or perhaps because of) its bittersweet qualities. It signals the end of spring and summer, the coming of winter and darkness. But it goes out in a blaze of glory, especially here in New England.

Why does the Jewish New Year begin in the fall? Actually–as I just learned through Google–it’s one of four Jewish New Years .

But let’s not complicate things too much; they’re complicated enough already. It was once explained to me–and I don’t know whether this is true or not–that, just as the Jewish day and all Jewish holidays begin in the darkness of sunset the night before, so the Jewish year begins in the darkness of fall, paralleling the Biblical account of the creation, where darkness preceded light. Whether true or not, it’s nicely poetic.

By the time fall comes to these parts it’s readily apparent that it’s actually been here for some time already. The nights have gotten cold, often in the forties, and the yearly struggle about turning on the heat begins. It’s a badge of honor in New England to be the last one to succumb to the terrible weakness of the need to be warm.

I’m not usually one of the final holdouts. But I do my best. I layer on the sweaters and the sweats as long as I can stand it.

Just yesterday I performed the ritual Closing of the Windows, the yin to the yang (or maybe vice-versa?) of the Opening of the Windows that occurs in late spring. Yes, my windows are all now firmly shut, probably not to opened again for many many months.

And yet the furnace is still set to “off.” But soon, soon. And then watch those heating bills soar–

A fellow New Englander, Robert Frost, had something to say about the matter:


NOW CLOSE THE WINDOWS

Now close the windows and hush all the fields;
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.

People keep telling me to lighten up, so I did

The New Neo Posted on by

I’m gratified at the response to my new photo. Thanks! My feminine vanity is assuaged.

And to those who commented on the shrinking Granny Smith apple, it turns out that the one in the original picture was an instance of amazing serendipity: big, round, beautifully green, and astoundingly symmetrical. This year’s are small and crooked (and, by the way, don’t blame New England; Granny Smith’s are not ordinarily grown here).

I searched high and low for one of the proper size and shape, but couldn’t find any. I bought a nice assortment–and in this case, I get to eat my mistakes–but they were all flawed. Such is life. The point is that the greater relative exposure of my face was not planned.

Also, to those who have said the photo is dark: I’ve posted a lightened version. Due to the crochets of Blogger, it only shows up so far in the enlarged version, the one you see if you click on “View my complete profile.” In a few hours it will show up on the main page of the blog. I’m curious to know whether the color on this new one is better than the old.

[ADDENDUM: I think the new photo seems to have shown up even as I posted this.]

Oh, to have been a fly on the Bush-Musharraf wall

The New Neo Posted on by

As luck would have it, Presidents Bush and Musharraf conferred today, right after the news story broke that Musharraf alleged that right before the Afghan invasion the US had threatened to “bomb Pakistan back to the Stone Age” if he didn’t cooperate.

Isn’t diplomacy a wonderful thing? If you read the transcript of their statements about their present meeting, you would think all was sweetness and light. They had mutual talks about a variety of interesting subjects, yada yada yada.

And that was it until the first question from the press. You can probably guess what that first question was:

Q: Mr. President, after 9/11, would the United States have actually attacked Pakistan if President Musharraf had not agreed to cooperate with the war on terrorism? He says that the United States was threatening to bomb his country back into the Stone Age.

And, President Musharraf, would Pakistan have given up its backing of the Taliban if this threat had not come from Armitage?

Bush’s response:

BUSH: First, let me _ she’s asking about the Armitage thing. The first I’ve heard of this is when I read it in the newspaper today. You know, I was _ I guess I was taken aback by the harshness of the words.

All I can tell you is that shortly after 9/11, Secretary Colin Powell came in and said, President Musharraf understands the stakes and he wants to join and help root out an enemy that has come and killed 3,000 of our citizens.

Matter of fact, my recollection was that one of the first leaders to step up and say that the stakes have changed…I don’t know of any conversation that was reported in the newspaper like that. I just don’t know about it.

Note that Bush is careful to place the blame on Armitage. One wonders exactly what Armitage did say, and on whose instructions. Interesting that Armitage, who was recently identified as the real culprit in the Wilson-Plame brouhaha, was involved. The possibility that he was some sort of loose cannon cannot be ruled out.

What’s the truth? Musharraf isn’t telling. In the first instance I can recall of a press conference in which a head of state takes the Fifth on account of a book deal, Musharraf fudges as follows:

I would like to _ I am launching my book on the 25th, and I am honor-bound to Simon Schuster not to comment on the book before that day. So …

And Bush responds as his agent:

In other words, Buy the book, is what he’s saying.

Armitage, of course, denies the allegation, saying there was no explicit threat:

“We wanted to make sure they understood both the opportunities and the downside, but there was no threat.

Maybe Musharraf is lying, or maybe Armitage or Bush is. Or perhaps all three. Yet another possibility is that Musharraf’s memory is playing tricks on him. It’s likely that Musharraf was under an extraordinary amount of stress right before the US invasion of Afghanistan and, explicit threats or no, he must have felt plenty threatened, and on all sides. I well remember the televised speech he gave shortly after 9/11, in which he threw in his lot with the US invasion. I remember thinking then that he was a dead man; that he wouldn’t last out the year.

Well, here he is, five years later–and with a Simon and Schuster book deal, as well. Will wonders never cease?

Neo-neo-neo

The New Neo Posted on by

As you know, this blog is all about change.

So, if you glance to the upper right of this page, you’ll see that there’s a new neo-neocon. Or, you might say, a neo-neo-neocon (neo cubed?)

The telephone wars: waiting for Godot?

The New Neo Posted on by

Okay, I’ll set the scene: I’m trapped in my house on a beautiful day, canceling all other plans in order to wait for the telephone repair people who may or may not come within the next three hours.

In addition, they may or may not call me on my cell phone to tell me when they are or aren’t coming. They may or may not decide it’s “safe” (a word they refuse to define) to come up my street because they may or may not want to drive around the detour set up by the guys working on the installation of the new sewer pipes, a task that has been going on since June, much of it directly in front of my house.

There, there, neo. Take a deep breath.

A little history: last night I discovered that my landline was playing tricks on me. I could make calls out, but no calls could come in. I did the requisite unplugging and replugging and testing of the phones, but none of them could receive calls; it seemed the trouble was outside.

Phoning Verizon (are you still with me, folks?) only elicited a long chain of interactions with an electronic person of unfailing politeness. She apologized for repeatedly failing to understand me–which is more than most people do (“I’m sorry, my error again…”) when I said, with increasing vehemence, “I want to speak with an agent!” (It turns out, by the way, that just saying the word “agent” will do the trick. But I digress.)

The agent instructed me to go to the outside of my house, where there is a gray tester box, and to plug in my non-remote phone for testing. This could end up saving me a lot of money if the trouble was in the phone and not in the lines. The metal box was cleverly placed in the most inaccessible corner of the building, at about the height the average eight-footer could reach handily. The cover was securely fastened on for maximum convenience, requiring a screwdriver for removal.

But I was up to the task. Opening it, I found a little diagram of its innards, including a highlighted red spot which represented the opening where the jack was supposed to be plugged in. Only problem was–as so often is the case–the map was not the territory. There was no such spot in the actual box, which did not even remotely correspond to said diagram.

Oh, and then the guys in the street told me to move my car and park it further down the road because my driveway would be blocked for the afternoon. And oh, did I forget to mention that I left my cell phone charger at the home of an out-of-town friend the other day, and that, although it’s been mailed to me, it has not yet arrived? So in order to charge said phone, I would have to get into my car and drive around, not only using up precious gas and money in the process, but abandoning my post waiting for the telephone repair guy. Which of course I cannot and will not do.

There. I feel better now.

[ADDENDUM: It’s OK. I’m all right. Doing that diaphragmatic breathing stuff.

They never arrived. And at 6 PM, the deadline, when I called the Verizon repair line for the umpteenth time today and barked “Agent!” into the phone, the lovely lady who answered and then called the dispatcher came back and told me they weren’t coming. I could make another appointment to wait in my house for four hours tomorrow. And oh, yes, I should have insisted when I originally called that I be put on the “pre-assigned” list. Although, as I pointed out, I only just now learned that little tip.

There’s more, but I’ll spare you–and myself–and skip it. However, I did get my cell phone charger in the mail, so I’m all set in that respect. And I did get a promise from the Verizon woman that if I stay within a fifteen-minute range of my house tomorrow–which covers everything I need to do–the repairmen will call me on my cell phone fifteen minutes before their arrival so I can hotfoot it back.

All will be well. I can feel it:

ESTRAGON:
You’re sure it was this evening?
VLADIMIR:
What?
ESTRAGON:
That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR:
He said Saturday. (Pause.) I think.
ESTRAGON:
You think.
VLADIMIR:
I must have made a note of it. (He fumbles in his pockets, bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.)
ESTRAGON:
(very insidious). But what Saturday? And is it Saturday? Is it not rather Sunday? (Pause.) Or Monday? (Pause.) Or Friday?….]

[ADDENDUM II: Oh, and then Blogger went down for scheduled repairs when I first attempted to publish this.]

[UPDATE 9/22/06 4:42 PM: Fixed. And it only cost the paltry sum of $100 for twenty minutes of work. The culprit was an old unused jack that some previous owner had placed in an outdoor location. Time and weather had wreaked havoc on it, and it affected the entire system.]