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Another Argumentative Indian Full Post View | List View

Like everything else in my life, this blog is a random abdominal stab.

Zapping up the Ulti Lingo*
Sifting through old papers, I ended up riffling through my thesis. Back to front. Perhaps I wanted to know how the story ended. Or perhaps in its opacity - 18 years down the road - it seems to be written in a truly foreign language, like Persian. Whatever the reason, when further paper shuffling - avoiding work is an avocation - yielded the following poem by Nissim Ezekiel, I had to laugh. It was just too appropriate to the laboriousness of my own forays in writing. (I am on week 3 stuck in a supposedly straightforward technical report...)

Some people are not having manners
this I am always observing
For example the other day I find
I am needing Soap
for ordinary washing myself purposes
So I am going to one small shop
nearby in my lane and I am asking
for well-known brand soap

The shopman he's giving me soap
but I am finding it defective version
So I am saying very politely --
though in Hindi I'm saying it,
and my Hindi is not so good as my English
Please to excuse me
but this is defective version of well-known brand soap
That shopman is saying
and very rudely he is saying it
What is wrong with soap?

Still I am keeping my temper
and repeating very smilingly
Please to note this defect in Soap
and still he is denying the truth
So I am getting very angry that time and with loud voice I am saying
YOU ARE BLIND OR WHAT?

Now he is shouting
you are calling me blind or what?
Come outside and I will show you

Then I am shouting
What you will show me
Which I haven't got already?
It is a vulgar thing to say
But I am saying it.

Now small crowd is collecting
and the shopman is much bigger than me,
and I am not caring so much
for small defect in well-known brand soap
So I am saying
Alright OK Alright OK
this time I will take
but not next time

Nissim Ezekiel
from: Very Indian Poems in Indian English

* The post title is the headline of a September 1988 article in India Today about college slang. Ulti, here a contraction of ultimate, carries a double meaning. The identically spelled Hindi word means upside down.
Tags: language, reflection
Wednesday May 20, 2009 - 02:40pm (PDT) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
Seeing the Light
My non-agenda for this blog, I told myself, was to write about whatever interested me. And, like most people, I have convinced myself of my impressively wide range of interests. Imagine my surprise then, when I looked at the "word cloud" generated by the ultra-cool web site Wordle. Click on it to see the full-size picture:


I'm political! Who knew!!

Tags: visualization
Monday February 16, 2009 - 05:20pm (PST) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
Fly Past
Fly Past magnify

Professionally, 2008 was indeterminate. Muddy. My experience starting a new venture is hard to compare with others’, especially given the amorphousness of consulting. But I confess that the ghosts of (regular) paychecks past have visited me more than once. I described the ups and downs of being self-employed to a childhood friend. Tridib put my ambivalence in stark relief by recalling our shared petite bourgeoisie upbringing in India. “Let’s face it,” he said, “you are basically a government servant type, as am I.” Ah, the bracing bluntness of old friends. Nevertheless, I remain determined to fight the entrepreneurial fight!

On the personal front, 2008 has been a year of highs. Chief among them was the opportunity to deepen and broaden my flying logbook. I flew two near-transcontinental trips – from California to Duluth, MN, thence to Springfield, IL and back, and a few weeks later, from California to Appleton, WI and back for that incomparable fly-in, Airventure. Each trip consumed an entire day, with actual flying time being in the 10+ hour range. The autopilot engaged and the plane purring contentedly, the long flight legs provided a great opportunity to observe and reflect.

Flying, as has been oft-observed, is humanity’s second-oldest collective dream, up there with immortality. To be above it all, to “slip the surly bonds of earth”, is divine sensation indeed. But flying is only partly sensual or spiritual. What it provides is a rarity in our circumscribed modern existence: a truly existential experience. No other enterprise places one so actively in the moment: existence precedes essence. The pilot’s actions determine the lived reality.

This connection is far more visceral than people who only fly commercial realize. In the few moments of take-off in a small place, you feel the earth’s slipping grasp as you as you escape her embrace. Within a few minutes, you feel her below you change from protective habitation to an incomprehensibly alien desolation wilderness.

And then, there is the magical experience of being in charge. A trained private pilot, in a well-maintained aircraft, is unambiguously in command. Not the air traffic controller. Not his boss or boss’s boss. Not even – for once – his wife! Before the flight, he decides on the route and stops. During the flight, he decides how to address the vicissitudes of weather and circumstance. After the flight, he decides what he takes from that particular flight by how he analyzes and logs it. Very little in life is so purpose-driven.

After all that analysis though, I return to the notion that the attraction of flight is elemental. Purely child’s play. The Kiwi poet Allen Curnow expresses it beautifully in A Time of Day:


A small charge for admission. Believers only.
Who present their tickets where a five-
barred farm gate grapes on its chain

and will file on to the thinly grassed paddock.
Out of the afternoon pearl-dipped light the
dung-green biplane descended

and will return later, and later, late as
already it is. We are all born
of cloud again, in a caul

of linen lashed to the air-frame of the age
smelling of the scorched raw castor oil
nine whirling cylinders pelt

up-country-smelling senses with, narcotic
joyrides, these helmeted barnstormers
heavier scented than hay,

harnesses, horsepiss, fleeces, phosphates and milk
under the fingernails. I’m pulling at
my father’s hand Would the little

boy for selling the tickets? One helmet smiles
bending over yes, please let me,
my father hesitates, I

pull and I don’t let go.


Happy 2009!

Tags: flying, reflection
Tuesday December 30, 2008 - 07:13pm (PST) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
How we Think Today
I have been following the 2008 US electoral cycle with keen interest, chortling pleasure, and an occasional prickling of concern.

Interest, because the world is clearly at an inflection point - the old order changeth, giving way to the new, etc. How Americans choose to deal with the changing reality is reflected in their political choices. And who is elected to lead America will undoubtedly have a major impact on history.

Pleasure, or more accurately - schadenfreude - because while presidential politics is the highest stakes game there is, its principals are so nakedly trying to learn as they go along, slipping and sliding to political perdition along the way. Not just John "My Friends" McCain, but also Carly "Not Qualified to Run HP" Fiorina, Jeremiah "My Kingdom for a Mic" Wright, the "monstrous" Samantha Powers, the ever-hapless Tucker Bounds, and many more.

And finally, concern, because if these "leaders" don't know what they are doing, who does? I feel a bit like Sherman McCoy in Bonfire of the Vanities:


And in that moment Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later. For the first time he realized that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps, love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. And now that boy, that good actor, had grown old and fragile and tired, wearier than ever at the thought of trying to hoist the Protector's armor back onto his shoulders again, now, so far down the line.


But the most interesting phenomenon has bloomed following the Sarah Palin selection as McCain's running mate. This breathtakingly stupid decision has split right-leaning opinionators into two stark camps: those trying to deal with it analytically, and those attempting to trans-subtantiate a lipsticked pig into a silk purse.

David Brooks, Ross Douthat, and a few other pundits are currently marvelous exemplars in a slow-mo "five stages of grief" type of enlightenment. (David Frum is the only pundit who instantly recognized the light at the end of the Rupublican Convention as that of a freight train.) These folks started off rah-rah-ing Palin. Since then, they've been talking themselves and their readers back off the ledge.

(Parenthetically, it's hard enough being a journalist and committing your judgments to forever-Googleable bits. Add to that the pressure of having to opine in real-time, on television and blogs, and you have a logorrheic masochist's dream profession.)

Others - sad to say they're the majority - doggedly continue to ascribe the relentlessly unfolding messiness of the Palin selection on the ever-convenient "liberal media". (Parenthetically, it remains surprisingly common for American commentators, even many who have traveled the world and theoretically gained perspective on the domestic US scene, to fail to understand the fundamental conservativeness of mainstream American media.) My Facebook friend and Forbes Online editor Rich Karlgaard is in the latter camp. Rich has even resorted to selectively quoting from the firebrand narcissist Camille Paglia's Salon column on Palin's supposed ur-feminism to bolster his repeated contention that Palin is a "good thing" for McCain and (scarily) for the country.

Until recently, I would have rolled my eyes at attempts to square the circle by an otherwise intelligent man. But I was reminded of something another lifelong Republican friend (the improbably named Pierre Redmond) once told me - "Sanjay, to do anything meaningful you have to pick a team. You can't go through life evaluating everything everytime." (That's a rough paraphrase.) I believe that a misplaced "team affiliation" lies at the root of the wilful-seeming analytical blindness displayed by Palin-boosters.

To begin with, you pick a team - in Rich's case "free-market conservativism" - that has an internally consistent analytical framework. Should the framework be resilient enough, it allows you to build on previous analysis without having to revert to first principles. That is all to the good. But what happens when your team decides to change games? Alert observes figure this out quickly. It's not difficult. But what is difficult is deciding what to do next. Should you switch teams? Should you attempt to influence your team to reset the game? I figure that the more closely you emphasize with your team's "brand", the easier it is to go along with the new game. And it's human nature to rely on brands rather than the reality behind them.

Breaking with one's team is wrenching at best, unthinkable for most. It isn't having to reexamine ideological underpinnings that's the worst. It's the Solomonic cleaving of social assumptions - old friends who now disapprove of your views, your freakish and presumptive new fellow travelers, etc. - that present the greatest disruption risk. Only the boldest, the true free-thinkers, are thus capable.

I've long found there to be a structural inverse correlation between free thought and modern conservatism. The finest counter-example to that notion was William F Buckley Jr. I've also been impressed by Andrew Sullivan, a prolific blogger at The Atlantic, even though his book The Conservative Soul: How we Lost it, How to Get it Back, is ultimately unpersuasive in its attempt to redirect the current of American conservatism.

Today I read a remarkable article by Wick Allison, the former editor of National Review (another WFB connection!) titled A Conservative for Obama. Its defense of conservatism and its rationale for a break with the Bush-McCain brand is remarkably cogent. (Its dour description of liberalism, not so much. But that's a quibble.) Here's Allison's core argument for ditching his team:

Conservatism to me is less a political philosophy than a stance, a recognition of the fallibility of man and of man’s institutions. Conservatives respect the past not for its antiquity but because it represents, as G.K. Chesterton said, the democracy of the dead; it gives the benefit of the doubt to customs and laws tried and tested in the crucible of time. Conservatives are skeptical of abstract theories and utopian schemes, doubtful that government is wiser than its citizens, and always ready to test any political program against actual results.

... But today it is so-called conservatives who are cemented to political programs when they clearly don’t work. The Bush tax cuts—a solution for which there was no real problem and which he refused to end even when the nation went to war—led to huge deficit spending and a $3 trillion growth in the federal debt. Facing this, John McCain pumps his “conservative” credentials by proposing even bigger tax cuts. Meanwhile, a movement that once fought for limited government has presided over the greatest growth of government in our history. That is not conservatism; it is profligacy using conservatism as a mask.

Today it is conservatives, not liberals, who talk with alarming bellicosity about making the world “safe for democracy.” It is John McCain who says America’s job is to “defeat evil,” a theological expansion of the nation’s mission that would make George Washington cough out his wooden teeth.

This kind of conservatism, which is not conservative at all, has produced financial mismanagement, the waste of human lives, the loss of moral authority, and the wreckage of our economy that McCain now threatens to make worse.



Wick Allison now joins my (very short but growing) list informally titled "a thinking-man's conservatives".
Tags: conventionalwisdom, journalism, politics
Thursday September 18, 2008 - 01:56pm (PDT) Permanent Link | 0 Comments
Telling Truths in America
Today's NYT has an in-depth examination of Barack Obama's tax philosophy and proposals. While interesting in and of itself, the article is especially useful in showing how the candidate thinks... in fact, in showing the candidate's startlingly live intellect. A mind in a national-level politician is a strangely exotic notion, given George W Bush's depressing inarticulation and John McCain's distressing tic of seeming like he's reading a teleprompter even when he isn't.

Towards the end of the article, Obama quotes from Robert Kennedy's "Soul of America" speech from the '68 campaign. Delivered less than three month before his assassination, the speech has the trademark Kennedy humor, a characteristic appreciation of history, and most of all, a richly poetic vein doomed to lie fallow in American politics until Senator Obama's emergence at the 2004 Democratic convention.

Obama picks one of his "favorite quotes" from the following wonderful riff on the limitations of Economics:

[the] Gross National Product counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the destruction of the redwood and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl. It counts napalm and counts nuclear warheads and armored cars for the police to fight the riots in our cities. It counts Whitman's rifle and Speck's knife, and the television programs which glorify violence in order to sell toys to our children. Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country, it measures everything in short, except that which makes life worthwhile. And it can tell us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans.


That is, indeed, a clever juxtaposition. It's not difficult to see why Obama, RFK's stylistic descendant, highlights the section. However lyrical though, it is far from the rhetorical gut of the speech. That is RFK's truth-telling of the country's two major challenges - Vietnam and its attendant unrest and alienation, and domestic poverty:

...we as a people, we as a people, are strong enough, we are brave enough to be told the truth of where we stand. This country needs honesty and candor in its political life and from the President of the United States. But I don't want to run for the presidency - I don't want America to make the critical choice of direction and leadership this year without confronting that truth. I don't want to win support of votes by hiding the American condition in false hopes or illusions. I want us to find out the promise of the future, what we can accomplish here in the United States, what this country does stand for and what is expected of us in the years ahead. And I also want us to know and examine where we've gone wrong. And I want all of us, young and old, to have a chance to build a better country and change the direction of the United States of America.


RFK spends the rest of his speech - some 2800 words - describing Appalachian poverty, the mess in Vietnam and laying out the hard work ahead.

Critiquing the recent Rick Warren theofest starring the two major party candidates, my wife observed that Obama "dumbed down" his delivery for the (largely right-leaning) evangelicals, that Obama soft-pedaled to avoid antagonizing the (largely white) audience. Her comments reminded me of Ta-Nehisi Coates' similar complaint about Senator Obama's timidity:

Obama can't bring the same moralism to bear on the wider he country which he applies to the black community, that he can't point out to Americans that oil prices going up is a good thing. Polluting the world your children will inherit is a moral issue. A system that allows people to buy homes with no money down is a moral issue. Telling people that the best thing they can do after the worst terrorist attack ever on American soil, is go out an shop is a moral issue.

I hear all of this talk about Obama as a post-racial candidate--but that only applies when its time for white people to pat themselves on the back. A truly post-racial candidate would be free to preach morals not just to African-Americans, but to all Americans.
The parallels between RFK's and Obama's respective situations are remarkable: Vietnam vs. Iraq, widespread poverty vs. the current economic meltdown. Perhaps Obama should hew less to advisors-generated tactics and focus more on speaking his mind a la RFK. Maybe "the real Obama" is more like RFK than Hillary Clinton.
Tags: obama, politics
Wednesday August 20, 2008 - 08:12pm (PDT) Permanent Link | 0 Comments

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