The East Coast Sound

Dear Chris.

2011-01-20T08:49:00.000-05:00

Dear Chris.

Still can’t believe you’re gone.

Keep expecting to see you in the dug-out

Whistling and pointing like a mad kettle directing traffic.

But you’re not in the dug-out.

You’ve been dug out of the dug out

By Mike Ashley and his disgraceful spade.

What was he digging for anyway?

Not coals.

Maybe Gold.

Or a grave for the team that Chris built.

Dear Chris.

A Cockney in Toon

But Loved.

Not like Dennis Wise

You were the anti-Wise

And yet so very Wise

If you see what I mean.

Wisdom

Speckling your black hair profoundly white.

You’d probably be played by Morgan Freeman in the film.

Dear Chris.

I bet you smelled of Old-Spice and dignity.

When you bled

You bled black and white.

(Although my TV is quite old

So maybe it was just that).

Caretaker Chris

Who is going to take care of us now?

Will Carrol be alright without his father figure?

Pardews not his real dad.

….Neither were you….

He’s probably got an actual dad…

But y’know what I mean.

Dear Chris.

Fired.

And right before Christmas Chris.

And it was your Birthday too.

That does seem a bit harsh Chris.

In weeks, or months, when we see you with someone else

Probably west-Ham

We will try to be happy for you and not too jealous.

It’s hard to see a future without you Chris.

Although, we did just do Liverpool 3-1.

Which was pretty good.

Copywrite George Nicholls 2010.

2008-01-02T14:32:00.000-05:00

Stag "Dos"

2007-11-09T07:36:00.000-05:00

My first friend is getting married. Which means my first stag do. Which got me thinking about stag dos. These are my thoughts.

A bizarre ritual no? It's kinda like saying:

"Okay, i'll let you be a man and have fun with your friends ONE LAST TIME. Cos after we're married... there will be no more of that. We will go to garden centres on Sundays and watch reality tv on Saturdays and you will no longer dread going to work because it will be the only time and space you will have to yourself to escape."

Of course I'm sure marriage isn't really as bad as all that but the masculine, let's-have-all-teh-fun statement that is a bachelor party doesn't reflect well on it as an institution.

Still, I'm shall enjoy swinging about on ropes and eating curry and drinking beer and (hopefully) cleaning up at poker. With Kelvin. For one last time.
___________________________________________________________________

This week I have been mostly......

Watching: Dawson's Creek, the end of the series where Pacey and Joey get together. I swear this is clearly why i have such fucking warped and fantastical expectations of romance.
Reading: Romeo Dallaire's Shaking Hands With The Devil. The man is amazing. His account of the Rwandan genocide is tough going but compelling reading.
Listening: To The Jayhawks' "I'm Gonna Make You Love Me" - sappy sentiment but still a brilliant song - and the newish Rilo Kiley. Jenny Lewis is uhmazin
Sleeping: uncomfortably.

2007-10-22T10:23:00.000-04:00

I am without question rather more accustomed to crawling into bed as the sun comes up than I am to waking up before it has done so. If I had set my alarm for 6am yesterday it would have gone off as I was brushing my teeth.

This morning I truly felt like a rat, as in the race of the same name. Barely alive, monging not mosying my way to the station, neither aware nor concerned as to whether or not I was wearing trousers (turns out I was). I had wanted to watch an episode of The Sopranos on the way to work, having recently been awakened as to quite how brilliant this show is. The French would say "c'est magnifique", the internet geeks: "teh awesome".

But it didn't happen, woe is fucking me as other inconsiderate people got on the train and there wasn't space for the computer on the table. What a twattish gripe that was.

Having started writing I've realised I have nothing particularly to say, no pertinent point to make, no witty zinger to finish with. I suppose this post merely serves as my reentry into the blogging world; writing as an exercise, to stretch my literary legs, no matter how mundane the subject matter and how trivial the trivia.

Genocide In Rwanda

2007-09-28T11:22:00.000-04:00

Examine the responses of Western countries to the Rwandan genocide of 1994. To what extent can they be said to have been complicit in the atrocities?

‘The evil represented in this museum is incontestable. But as we are its witness, so must we remain its adversary in the world in which we live. So we must stop the fabricators of history and the bullies as well. Left unchallenged, they would still prey upon the powerless; and we must not permit that to happen again’[1]

On April 22nd 1993 President Bill Clinton dedicated the United States Holocaust museum with a clarion call. ‘Never again’ would evil be allowed to reign uncontested. ‘Never again’ would the world stand idly by as innocent people were killed for no reason other than their ethnic background. ‘Never again’ would responsibility be so flagrantly flouted. Yet less than a year later the Clinton administration stood at the forefront of an international community that either looked on, or looked away, as 800,000 people were killed in one hundred days in a small country in equatorial Africa. As the fastest, most efficient campaign of slaughter in human history [is this true? or ‘one of’?] was being carried out, countries in Europe and North America, and even the United Nations, either denied the nature of the killing, or repudiated an impetus to act to stop it.
Responsibility for the Rwandan genocide is not easily attributed; it is, of course, much easier to respond retrospectively to the events in and around the genocide than it could possibly have been at the time. Lack of knowledge is the most frequently cited defence of those arguing that no less was done than could have been done. Of course with hindsight we are able to examine all angles, to have a far greater breadth and depth of knowledge than was available both as atrocities were being planned and as they were ongoing. There can [cut? - therefore] be no truly comprehensive appraisal of the actions of the leaders, politicians and bureaucrats who made, or chose not to make, the decisions that allowed the Hutu militia to act with almost complete impunity as they sought to exterminate the Tutsi population. There is also a volume of literature that contests that even if the international community had been in possession of a full understanding of the situation in Rwanda it would still have been essentially unpreventable. Yet all actors involved now acknowledge that mistakes were made and that more could and should have been done. This essay aims to explore the extent to which the wealthiest, most powerful nations in the world failed to respond to the desperate cries for help of an impoverished population being slain in their thousands. While few of the parties involved can be said to be entirely free from blame I intend to focus on the actions of three: the United States, the United Nations – with particular emphasis on the role of Secretary General Boutros Boutros-Ghali – and France.
These three all played a significant part in determining the course of events in the time leading up to the genocide, as well as during it. The US, as global hegemon, was in the strongest position to act; the United Nations with its responsibilities for maintaining international peace and security should and could have done more; France, with its relationship with the Francophone Hutu leaders in Rwanda, may be seen to have had some active responsibility for the fact that the genocide was not stopped sooner. Ultimately, in the international realm, political interest prevailed over morality, humanitarianism and collective responsibility as the driving force behind behaviour [cut? - and the Rwandan genocide gives us no reason to doubt this]. For too long events in Rwanda were passed off in the West as ‘civil war’ and ‘internal conflicts’, with responsibility for killings and clashes equally ascribed along both sides of the ethnic divide.
I will begin by looking at the definition of genocide and the problems associated with identifying it. Did the various authorities genuinely miss the signs of genocide or did they deliberately choose to ignore them in order to avoid the obligation to act?
The UN Genocide Convention of 1948 defines genocide as acts committed with the ‘intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group’[2] (emphasis added) and says that ‘whether committed in time of peace or in time of war, [it] is a crime under international law which they undertake to prevent and to punish.’.The clause ‘whether committed in time of peace or in time of war’ is [cut? – both] particularly important and particularly troublesome, especially with regard to Rwanda. War can and does draw an obfuscating veil over abhorrent acts of human rights violation. The Rwanda-Burundi region of Africa had been in an almost permanent state of conflict since shaking off the shackles of colonialism in the 1960s, with no secret made of the violent rivalry between the majority Hutu tribe and the minority Tutsi. [Is this relevant to the argument here – perhaps put in the footnote? As colonial masters the Belgians had favoured the Tutsi and stirred a simmering cauldron of already heated resentment between the tribes.[3] ]
Genocide is not an act of war and has no inherent relationship to war. Nevertheless, international bureaucrats and the policy-makers used the civil war in Rwanda as a legal, if not moral, excuse for inaction. The view of the outside world was that the post-colonial history of Rwanda was littered with violent outbreaks and tit-for-tat tribal massacres and that this was simply accepted as the status quo. While peace between the Hutu and the Tutsi was obviously desirable, with animosity so deeply embedded in the culture there could only be ‘African solutions to African problems’[4]; neither side was deemed especially more responsible than the other and there was little external actors could do to resolve the dispute.
It is important that we maintain a consistent understanding of what is meant by the term ‘complicity’. I do not mean to suggest, and there is no evidence to support any claim, that the wealthy Western powers were active conspirators in the genocide, or that they had any direct responsibility for it. Nonetheless, either wittingly or unwittingly, they allowed the genocide in Rwanda to occur. In legal terms, failure to act to your full capacity to prevent a crime from taking place is complicity, and a crime in itself. [Even if unwitting?] This is the understanding of the term I will be employing throughout this essay.
The Clinton administration, elected on an almost entirely domestic and economic platform and without a majority [majority of popular vote? or in Congress?] had no consistent foreign policy direction. Partly this could be attributed to Clinton’s lack of experience in foreign affairs, partly to his lack of a mandate, partly to the ambiguous nature of foreign relations in the early post-Cold War era. The result, however, was that when it came to international issues Clinton was a follower rather than a leader, preferring to take a back seat wherever possible. The loudest national voices on US foreign policy at this time did not emanate from the White House, as tradition would have had it, but from Capitol Hill and Congress, the de facto [?is de facto what you mean – or conventional/traditional?] seat of domestic responsibility. Republican Senator Bob Dole, one of the most aggressive proponents of intervention in Bosnia, made one of the strongest statements on US intervention in Rwanda when he said ‘I don’t think we have any national interest there… as far as I’m concerned, in Rwanda, that ought to be the end of it.’[5] It was of [? – cut more] experienced figures such as Dole that the Clinton administration took heed. Even before Somalia went terribly wrong, a goal of the administration was to avoid being drawn by the UN into foreign military engagements where US interests were not at stake. At the time, this was for budgetary reasons as much as from fear of accumulating US casualties [really ‘as much as’? Not just ‘as well as’?] When Rwanda erupted into crisis the administration’s response was already fully formed, with policy, rather than facts, determining the way in which events were interpreted; and therefore the response. Having predisposed itself to a foreign policy based on the expansion of American economic interests, only involving itself in conflicts where American interests were directly at stake, the administration failed to recognize an international legal and moral imperative when it arose. Even as late as May 25th 1994 Clinton’s rhetoric was that of reticence, retreat and reluctance: ‘Whether we get involved in the world’s ethnic conflicts,in the end, must depend on the cumulative weight of the American interest at stake.’[6] As Douglas Brinkley put it, ‘He is more interested in helping Toys ‘R’ Us and Nike to flourish in Central Europe than in despatching Marines to quell unrest in economically inconsequential nations.’[7]
Without a popular electoral mandate and with no political capital to spend, the White House assumed a highly risk-averse stance, inclined only to pursue policies that would bolster Clinton’s popularity. Humanitarianism just didn’t qualify. UN peacekeeping operations were unpopular enough in Washington before the Somalia mission imploded; the fallout – also known as ‘Somalia Syndrome’[8] - from ‘Black Hawk Down’ proved decisive. It was a question of politics and interests and it was perceived in the White House that the administration could only lose by despatching more troops to Africa, and the American people would not respond well. It can be argued however, that the administration underestimated the people. A poll taken in 1994 asked: ‘If genocidal situations occur, do you think that the UN, including the US, should intervene with whatever force is necessary to stop the acts of genocide?’ A significant majority – 65 per cent – responded ‘always’ or ‘in most cases’, with only 23 per cent saying ‘only when American interests are also involved’.[9]
However, ‘American interests’ were precisely what drove America’s African policy: Washington ‘saw Rwanda through the prism of Somalia.’[10] There were warnings, even from American officials. In March 1994 Prudence Bushnell, Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, visited Rwanda to meet with the leaders of the RPF and the Rwandan government and urge both sides to take steps to curb the violence. In her report she warned Washington that ‘The failure to reach accomodation could result in tragedy for all Rwandans.’[11] Similarly, in a fax to the Secretary of State for African Affairs, the US amabssador to Rwanda, David Rawson, articulated fears of a coup d’etat and warned that ‘the results of any coup would be catastrophic and could result in ethnic backlash throught the countryside.’[12] Further warnings were issued by the CIA in December 1993, when it found that four million small arms had been transferred from Poland to Rwanda – while the Rwandan government was supposedly committing itself to the peace process – and in January 1994, when it informed the State Department of its analysis that should conflict in Rwanda resume, ‘the worst case scenario would involve one-half million people dying.’[13]
However, it seems that in the upper echelons there were no ears to hear: there was ‘no incentive to go beyond their misconceptions to understand the situation. Rwanda was poor, remote and African – irrelevant to the national interest.’[14] When Rwandan human rights activist Monique Mujawariya went to Washington to articulate the situation in her country and to push for US intervention, she met with the President’s National Security Adviser Anthony Lake. Having offered his resignation in the aftermath of the Mogadishu disaster, he was personally affected but politically disabled, in no position to urge another US military operation into the heart of Africa. One congressional offical responsible for Africa told Mujawariya: ‘The United States has no friends; the United States has interests. In the United States there is no interest in Rwanda.’[15]
Even when it was clear that massacres were taking place in Rwanda, the US simply refused to recognize that a genocide was taking place. Officials would go no further than speaking of ‘acts of genocide’. In a State Department press briefing on Rwanda WHEN?? spokesperson Christine Kelly was asked: ‘How many acts of genocide does it take to make genocide?’ To which her response was: ‘That’s not a question I’m in a position to answer.’[16] Similarly, for the then US amabassador to the United Nations, Madeline Albright, the question of genocide was ‘a legal definitional thing’.[17] Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs George Moose was [when?] more straightforward: ‘the discussion was about how we might be viewed if we declared that there was a genocide and then we are not ready willing and able to do anything about it.’[18]
Yet whatever the resistance of the US to involvement in ‘ethnic conflicts’, the act of genocide carries an altogether higher level of responsibility: the genocide convention places a legal obligation on signatories to intervene.
The most important single figure in the UN at the time of the Rwandan genocide was the Secretary General, Boutros Boutros-Ghali [an Egyptian – cut – better left till later, when you explain how this is relevant]. While decisions on whether or not to authorise [the creation of] a peacekeeping mission are ultimately made by a vote of member states in the Security Council, the head of the Secretariat has responsibility for overseeing operations. The Secretariat is supposed to act as the eyes and ears of the Council, the link between the Council and the mission, assimilating all the information and reports provided by commanders on the ground and passing them on to the emissaries of the member states. Boutros Boutros-Ghali was instrumental in both the creation and the operation of the peacekeeping mission to Rwanda, named the United Nations Assistance Mission In Rwanda (UNAMIR),[19] established in October 1993 and arriving in Rwanda in November. For Boutros-Ghali UNAMIR was the perfect vehicle to demonstrate the capability of the peacekeeping department to carry out a successful mission and he lobbied hard to bring it into being. [This sounds as if Boutros-Galli the good guy! Spell out specific mission of UNAMIR, what was the state of the conflict in Rwanda at the point when it was dispatched, what were the limitations of its mandate as compared with e.g. UNOSOM? Also suggest foll. sentence really belongs in this section: The US had been reluctant to support even the most tentative of UN operations in Rwanda, and they were certainly not going to back an operation with a stronger mandate to act.]With the 1993 Arusha Accords between the government of Rwanda and the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF )in place and believed to ?, it was sold as a traditional operation, requiring a minimal mandate and minimal resources - essentially little more than a symbolic presence.
[Give full name first?]UNOSOM had been the first instance of a Chapter VII [do you need to explain what’s meant by Chapter VII?] peacekeeping mission installed without the permission of a sovereign government. It was deemed to be an exception because there was no recognized sovereign government in place in Somalia to provide such consent. Rwanda, while recognized as fragile, was considered to be significantly less problematic: there was an interim government in place and full diplomatic relations were established. Lieutenant-General Romeo Dallaire was to be the commander on the ground, and it was clear to him from early on that the task was not to be so simple. He had been warned of the dangers posed by militias and extremists and ‘the UN needed to get a peacekeeping force on the ground as soon as possible to prevent such forces from increasing their grip.’[20] In the aftermath of Mogadishu states were reluctant to provide either troops or resources for the mission, and Dallaire arrived in Kigali with a skeleton operating force. The battalion under his command was made up mostly of Belgian commandos and Ghanaians, severely underequipped and underfunded, with troop numbers far below the level Dallaire thought necessary.
On 11th January 1994 Dallaire sent to the United Nations Department of Peacekeeping Operations in New York a telegram which has since become famous. His unit had been approached by an individual known as ‘Jean-Pierre’, a high-ranking [Hutu? army?] officer willing to provide information of the plot to derail the Arusha Accords and embark upon a campaign of violence on the most egregious scale. The Hutu elite he said, were transforming the militia group known as the Interahamwe[21] into ‘a machine of extermination’ not just of the RPF but of all Tutsi.[22] Jean-Pierre also said that the conspiracy included a plan to force a UN withdrawal by killing a number of the Belgian troops who provided the backbone of the mission. Dallaire relayed the information to the DPKO in New York, saying that ‘[Jean-Pierre] has been ordered to register all Tutsi in Kigali and suspects it is for their extermination. Example he gave was that in 20 minutes his personnel could kill up to 1000 Tutsis.’[23] Jean-Pierre had also apprised the peacekeepers of the locations of a number of weapons stockpiles that were intended not merely for the armed forces but for civilian Hutu distribution. Dallaire went on to inform the DPKO that, though wary of being set up, he felt the informant was a reliable source and he intended to investigate the weapons caches. He was not requesting permission because he had no doubt that such investigations were well within his mandate. The UN response, however was an unequivocal rejection: ‘We cannot agree to the operation contemplated in paragraph 7 of your cable, as it clearly goes beyond the mandate entrusted to UNAMIR under resolution 872 (1993).’[24] Michael Barnett rightly provides a defence of the officials in charge of the DPKO at the time, saying that ‘If the telegram is wrenched from its historical and organizational context, then it is an unimpeachable warning sign that cannot be ignored or misinterpreted. Once it is properly situated, however, then its Nostradamus-like qualities disappear.’[25]
Barnett however, goes on to critique this defence himself, arguing that the response of the DPKO was overtly [?overly] influenced by context and, more significantly, by the bureaucratic mentality of the United Nations. It was not that Dallaire’s message [cut? was in any way conventional or that it] didn’t ring any alarm bells within the department – as would later be claimed – it was that the UN chose not to hear the warning. Post-Somalia the bureaucrats were limited in what they could do but ‘those limits proved comforting to those individuals who wanted to play it safe because they were worried about the UN’s survival.’[26] The fallout from Somalia had been that member states’ enthusiasm for peacekeeping had declined significantly; another failed mission or catastrophic event could be the final nail in the coffin for the department. Keeping peacekeepers out of harm’s way had become the number one, number two and number three priorities of the DPKO, with the actual mission itself barely a consideration. Chasing up an unreliable lead on weapons caches – the exact circumstances in which Pakistani troops were killed in Mogadishu – was out of the question. BARNETT QUOTE???
Dallaire’s memo was not the only message sent from the Rwanda mission warning of the precarious ethnic knife-edge on which the Arusha Accords stood, but the UN was resigned to doing nothing, if they could possibly justify inaction. [cut? - As evidential as they were,] Outbreaks of ethnic violence were sporadic and seemingly random, and so could be ignored. This all changed on the night of 6th April. When Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana’s plane was shot down on landing at Kigali’s airport the plans of the genocidal conspirators were rapidly brought to realisation. The Hutu extremists of the Interahamwe and the presidential guard began a systematic campaign of killing, beginning with Tutsi politicians, moderate Hutus [?] and, as Jean-Pierre had forecast, ten Belgian peacekeepers. On 5th April the UN Security Council had met to discuss the future of UNAMIR, with little progress having been made towards implementing the Arusha Accords and the coalition power-sharing government no closer to forming. The Secretary General’s report prepared for this meeting was ‘optimistic in tone’ and omitted Dallaire’s ten-page military assessment ‘highlighting his serious deficiencies in capabilities and equipment’.[27] Following the assassination of the President the council immediately reconvened for two weeks of emergency talks to determine the international response. This should have been the point at which the Secretariat, and Boutros Boutros-Ghali in particular, took the lead, as the body with [the most] direct jurisdiction over UNAMIR
Boutros-Ghali’s role, as Secretary General, was to inform the Security Council, to assimilate the reports he was receiving from the mission on the ground, and to funnel [what? Such reports as he thought significant?] to the Council to aid the decision-making process. However, when it came to Rwanda the Secretariat and Boutros Boutros-Ghali ‘always straggled one or two steps behind the Security Council and almost always mimicked its recent conclusions.’[28] The Security Council debate is often shaped by recommendations from the Secretariat; as the violence in Rwanda rapidly escalated ‘no such recommendations were forthcoming.’[29] Dallaire’s reports were increasingly alarming and specifically emphasised the scale of the violence and its one-sided ethnic dimension, but the information passed on to the Security Council was tempered with regard to both. The ‘Secretariat’s mentality’ shaped its view of Rwanda and its response to the unfolding carnage; its reaction was not to provide the Council with the best recommendations for the mission but to offer the recommendations to which it felt the Council would be most receptive. Dallaire himself favoured simply a demonstration of a willingness to employ force, believing that such a move would be enough to halt the killings; but in an interview given just a few days before Habyarimana’s assassination Boutros-Ghali expressed his view that ‘To use force is an expression of failure. Our job is diplomacy, the peaceful resolution of disputes.’[30] Iqbal Riza, Kofi Annan’s deputy in the DPKO, stated that: ‘Our mandate was not to anticipate and prevent genocide.’[31] The mission was paralysed from the start by a risk-averse command structure that refused to accept that the violence was the product of anything other than a breakdown of politics, that would not consider the idea that politics might not provide the answer, and that could not or would not perceive a dimension of the situation that was distinct from the civil war.
The Secretary General’s relationship with the genocide was not limited to his official capacity as head of the United Nations. Prior to taking the UN position Boutros-Ghali had been an Egyptian statesman and in 1990, as the RPF were launching their invasion into Rwanda, was working as a minister for foreign affairs. As the RPF offensive appeared to be an ever-increasing threat to Habyarimana’s Rwandan army, the government was desperate to find a new supplier of weaponry. Egypt had, for seven years, refused to sell arms to Rwanda; on the 28th October 1990, 12 days after a meeting between Rwandan amabassador to Egypt Celestin Kabanda and Dr Boutros Boutros-Ghali, an arms contract for US$5.889 million was signed between the two countries.[32] This would be the first of several transactions of this kind to occur, coming as they did, as Belgium was attempting to engineer peace talks between the RFP and the Rwandan government. There was nothing illegal in Boutros-Ghali’s actions: in his own words, he was only doing his job as a minister of foreign affairs for Egypt and he ‘would have helped any government wanting arms from Egypt.’[33] He nonetheless was far more intimately connected and informed about the precarious situation in Rwanda than his subsequent actions as Secretary General might suggest. From this point up until the genocide began – with a population of only eight million people - Rwanda would become [was? – ‘would become’ implies escalation – was this the case – if so make clearer] the third largest importer of weapons in Africa, behind only Nigeria and Angola.[34]
[Can you make a link here? Seems as if while Egypt was selling arms, France was going further, providing direct military aid to the Hutus? Don’t think foll. sentence works - how was relationship triangular? Sounds more like two separate relationships?] There was a triangular relationship between Boutros-Ghali, France and the Rwandan government led by President Juvenal Habyarimana. Under Habyarimana ‘the [Hutu] political elite embraced Paris as a source of cultural identity and protection.’[35] This embrace was reciprocated by the French government, who actively supported the Francophone Hutus, providing them with arms and combat training to fight against the RPF, who oriented themselves on the Anglophone sphere. This was coupled with high levels of financial aid [from the French? To Rwanda? To the Hutus?], amounting to US$10 million in 1993.[36] Corporal Jean Damascent Kabure described an ‘ideological indoctrination against Tutsi as the French trained the Hutu Interahamwe’.[37] In the early 1990s the RPF had lauched a number of attacks, originating from Uganda, against the Rwandan army, to bring a halt to Hutu massacres of Tutsi civilians; in response to each of these offensives France increased its military support for the Rwandan army (FAR). In February 1993 the RPF were on the verge of taking the capital Kigali when several hundred French troops were despatched. According to Alain Destaxhe ‘French intervention was the determining role in stopping the RPF advances.’[38]
We cannot say that the genocide would not have occurred had Boutros-Boutros Ghali not arranged the sale of arms to the Hutu government or had France not been actively involved in supported the Hutu government [cut - there is no reason to suppose that it wouldn’t]. We cannot even say that the arms sale would not have taken place had Boutros Boutros-Ghali not helped to orchestrate it. We can, however, say that both the future United Nations Secretary General and the French government were instrumental in the supply of an enormous quantity of weapons which were later used to carry out the genocide.
In his speech at the Holocaust museum Bill Clinton also said: ‘We must live forever with this knowledge, even as our fragmentary awareness of crimes grew into indisputable facts, far too little was done. Before the war even started, doors to liberty were shut.’[39] The President was talking about events a half-century earlier; but his words would take on a fresh resonance and [a duality of – or just ‘another/ a new’] meaning just eighteen months later in Rwanda. When it comes to the subject of what was known by whom and when, our conclusions are at best speculative: we can accept, if we choose, the standard stock sentiment of the politicians and bureaucrats that they ‘did not fully appreciate the depth and the speed with which you were being engulfed by this unimaginable terror’[40] without absolving them of blame. When it came to Rwanda the response preceded the stimulus. That is to say that long before the genocide itself began, the reaction of the international community had been settled. While the various individuals, groups and governments were not expecting a genocide to occur in Rwanda, when it began the signs were there, and the signs were ignored.
[1] http://www.clintonfoundation.org/legacy/042293-speech-by-president-at-opening-of-holocaust-museum.htm
[2] http://www.unhchr.ch/html/menu3/b/p_genoci.htm
[3] While no doubt a factor that is, however, meant as background, and not a facet of the sculture of complicity I am looking to build here. Colonialism, while significant, cannot be said to have had a causal responsibility for the genocide.
[4]
[5] Quote from Samantha Power, Atlantic Monthly article – date, page no.?
[6] PB Frontline: Ghosts of Rwanda ?where?
[7] Douglas Brinkley ‘Democratic Enlargement: The Clinton Doctrine’ Foreign Policy 106 Spring 1997 (p. 125)
[8] ???
[9] Stephen Kull ‘What the Public Knows that Washington Doesn’t’, Foreign Policy 101, Winter 1995/1996
[10] Allison Des Forges, Leave None To Tell The Story – book? article? where?
[11] http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB117/Rw01.pdf
[12] http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB117/Rw03.pdf
[13] Samantha Power: A Problem From Hell p338
[14] Ibid
[15] Frontline
[16] Samantha Power: Bystanders To Genocide
[17] Ghosts of Rwanda
[18] Ibid
[19] Romeo Dallaire Shake Hands With The Devil
[20] Ibid p60
[21] Literal translation from Kinyarwanda: ‘We who fight together’
[22] Barnett p78
[23] Dallaire
[24] http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/ghosts/themes/response.html
[25] Michael Barnett Eyewitness to a Genocide p80
[26] Barnett p81
[27] Malvern: The Security Council: Behind the Scenes
[28] Barnett p108
[29] Malvern: The Security Council: Behind the Scenes
[30] Barnett
[31] Melvern: Behind the Scenes at the Security Council
[32] Melvern
[33] Linda Melvern The Role of the West in Rwanda’s Genocide (p33)
[34] Melvern
[35] Chris McGreal France’s Shame – The Guardian 11/1/2007
[36] Alain Destexhe Rwanda and Genocide in the Twentieth Century p52
[37] Ibid
[38]
[39] http://www.clintonfoundation.org/legacy/042293-speech-by-president-at-opening-of-holocaust-museum.htm
[40] Clinton apology http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/africa/jan-june98/rwanda_3-25a.html

In Da Club

2007-05-09T15:20:00.000-04:00

Indelible Ink

2007-05-03T17:41:00.000-04:00

Virigina Tech

2007-04-24T05:13:00.000-04:00

I didn't want to write anything on this subject until the media furore had died down. In fact I didn'treally want to write anything on this subject at all, I really didn't think I had anything to add to the discourse and there were already enough people out there with nothing to say yet saying it way.

But then I had an interview yesterday where they asked me, in a fairly general way, what I thought. I don't think I explained myself very well; I don't think I had it completely clear in my own mind then but figured it out later. What I told them was that I thought the coverage of the killer's "media package" was handled very badly. I said that it was not in the public interest to show it and and amounted to nothing more than quenching the public's macabre voyeuristic lust (i wasn't quite so eloquent at the time). The argument, which has been put forward, for showing the footage, was that it enables us to get inside the mind of a serial killler and understand why he did these horrific things. I said I didn't buy that.Where I failed yesterday, was in explaiining why I thought this, and producing some evidence to support my opinion.

What I should have said was that the value of showing his video, reading his letter and reproducing his photos, should be measured by the value of the commentary and analysis that followed. Absolute zero. if you look back on the newspapers and remember the tv news coverage of last week, can you see anyone anywhere saying anything other than: "He was a nutjob", "total whacko", "what a faaaakin' lunatic". No, because it wasn't said. Because that's exactly what he was. We learned nothing form any of this and therefore the public interest argument crumbles.

I didn't watch any of that by the way. Yeah, I'm standing on some high ground.

2007-02-25T16:34:00.000-05:00

I love METRO

2006-12-28T08:04:00.000-05:00

In response to annual calls to ban the word
"Christmas":

I would just like to know who these faceless do-gooders against Christmas are. In fact, I think they need deporting for all the damage they do with their warped views. I think they must have forgotten which country they live in.
Sue Blackburn, Surrey

Lest we forget the Metro is a subsidiary of the Evening Standard which is a younger cousin of the Daily Mail, though no less authoritarian in nature. If only this woman were in charge of immigration policy eh?

wOLF eYES

2006-12-18T22:17:00.000-05:00

Bel Canto IV: Track Listings

2006-12-17T11:42:00.000-05:00

Star Wars Theme
Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour
Spanky Wilson - Sunshine of Your Love
New Order - Fine Time
CSS - Let's Make Love and Listen to Death From Above
Fun Boy 3 + Bananarama - It Ain't What You Do
Jenny Lewis - Handle With Care
David Bowie - Fashion
The Ramones - Merry Christmas (I Don't Want to Fight Tonight)
The Beach Boys - All I Wanna Do
Badly Drawn Boy - Road Movie
The Band - Rag Mama
Gram Parsons - The Streets of Baltimore
Tony Bennett - Rags To Riches
Staple Singers - I'll Take You There
Velvet Underground - What Goes On
T-Rex - Telegram
Prince - Sign Of The Times
Stevie Wonder - Pastime Paradise
Buck 65 - Kennedy Killed The Heat (MSTRKRFT Remix)
The Waitresses - Christmas Wrappin
Paul Simon - 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover
My Morning Jacket - Just Because I Do
Echo and The Bunnymen - The Cutter
Chemical Brothers - Setting Sun
Soup Dragons - I'm Free
The Rolling Stones - Miss You
Isaac Hayes - Shaft Theme
Woody Bully - Sam The Sham and The Pharoahs
Johnny Cash - Cocaine Blues (Live at Folsom Prison)
Kenny Loggins - Playing With The Boys
The Libertines - What Katie Did
- I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas
Booker T and The MGs - Green Onions
?
Manassas
Led Zeppelin
Star Wars Interlude
Manfred Mann - 5-4-3-2-1
Beach Boys - Good Vibrations
The Faces - Stay With Me
The Ronettes - Frosty The Snowman
Wolfmother - Woman (Erol Alkan Mix)
Ima Robot - The Beat Goes On
Fisherspooner - Just Let Go
LoFiFnk - Springsteen (The Hustler ReLick)
Deerhoof - +81
Super Furry Animals - Ice Hockey Hair
T-Rex - Get It On
Talking Heads - Road To Nowhere
Marlene Shaw - Woman of the Ghetto
Chic - Chic Cheer
Jefferson Airplane - 3/5 of a Mile in 3 Seconds
Johnny Cash - Folsom Prison Blues (Live)
Gloria Jones - Tainted Love
Sam Cooke - What A Wonderful World
Stevie Wonder - I Believe (When I Fall In Love With You It Will Be Forever
Elton John - Tiny Dancer
Nina Simone - Sinnerman
?
?
Neil Young
Fairport Convention
Housemartins - Happy Hour
Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walking
Jimmy Cliff - You Can Get It If You Really Want
The Verve vs Jack the Knife - Bittersweet Arsenal
Aerosmith - Sweet Emotion
Kelly Clarkson - Since You've Been Gone
Metric - Monster Hospital
Grandaddy - Miner at the Dial-a-View
Smokey Robinson and The Miracles - Second that Emotion
Pulp - Inside Susan
Rolling Stones - She's A Rainbow
Primal Scream - Call on Me
Joy Division - Transmission
The Jam - Shout
The Beatles - Taxman
Candi Staton + Source - You Got The Love
Jeff Buckley - Last Goodbye

A friendly word of advice for anyone taking photgraphs at a gig

2006-12-14T19:33:00.000-05:00

TURN THE FUCKING FLASH OFF!!!!!

2006-11-18T23:57:00.000-05:00

toothpastefordinner.com

New Cunts; Same As The Old Cunts?

2006-11-10T06:27:00.000-05:00

So the Democrats won on Tuesday did they? Did they really? No, of course they didn't.

he American people came to their senses and gave the Republican party the stuffing of a generation. Tired of hypocrisy and troops dieing and George W, this was, as so many have said, a referendum on the government. Unable to kick monkey boy out they did the next best thing and told his minions in Congress and the Senate to go f themselves.

But the Dems, besides choosing a few vaguely electable conservative candidates, didn't actually do anything. 'DE-FAULT' as Homer Simpson said, 'the two greatest words in the English language.'

Now they're firmly established as the party of leadership the Democrats are going to have to be prepared to lead. That means directing the political discourse; it means formulating policy; it means making a firm stand on the issues that matter. If they spend the next two years fearful of turning all the voters off instead of trying to turn them on - and in so doing risk losing a few - they can only lose. Have some goddamn cojones will you?!!?

Kerry, a good man in my opinion, lost the Presidential election in '04 because he stood for nothing. Americans, in general, don't like to vote AGAINST, they want to vote FOR someone. Tuesday was different because clearly the Republicans had screwed up so very badly it was impossible for them to stay but the Dems can't count on that forever. The pressure's now on for them to show they're a responsible party with focus, with direction, with unity, with ideas on what should be done, not merely what should not be done.

The leadership is crucial. Two years until Bush goes which means far less than two years for the Democrats to find someone the party and the people can get behind. You'd better believe the Republicans woke up on Wednesday morning thinking: what do we have to do to make sure this doesn't happen again? They're in disarray and it's an opportunity for the Dems to mark themselves out as different. As better.

Nancy Pelosi seems like a good woman. She's a liberal (well, as far as such a thing can really exist in American politics) leading a party leaning far more towards the middle than herself. She has to work with Bush, to cooperate with him to some extent, but she can't be seen to bend over. He's a lame duck President looking for a legacy and she's leader of the majority with a popular mandate that Bush can only dream of. She's got the power to make a difference and she must. The refusal to confirm John Bolton to the UN is a good place to start. It shows the executive that, although foreign policy is the White House domain, the House is not without scope to act.

Fireworks!!!

2006-11-06T05:09:00.000-05:00

irresponsibly let off in our back garden. supposedly one should be 25 metres+ away fromt hem but our garden is only ten metres end to end. made for very exciting will he/won't he blow-his-frickin -hand-off fun.

Bel Canto: Part 2

2006-11-05T08:55:00.000-05:00

New poster!!!!Okay, so it looks remarkably similar to the old one. But it's bigger and better and has a sexy tagline at the bottom.

2006-11-02T07:03:00.000-05:00

Chocolate HobNobs vs. Chocolate Digestives

2006-10-16T05:21:00.000-04:00

I cannot believe there's even two sides to this debate but apparently some prefer the salty, pussy-ass biscuit against the oaty, wheaty knobbly, tea-killing man cruncher. Insane (in the membrane).

A Twat

2006-10-15T08:47:00.000-04:00

House party in the Hove area last night. All very nice; far more enjoyable than I had anticipated; stole some beers for the walk home.

I found myself in conversation with a nameless individual (actually, he did have a name - who doesn't have name? I ask you! - I'm just choosing not to disclose it) and the subject came up, as it so frequently does these days, of the upcoming musical phenomenon that will be Bel Canto: Music Without Borders. In a painfully self-promoting kinda way, I tell him he should come down because "I guarantee the music's going to be great". His response: "How can you say that when music's so subjective?". SMUG SMARMY SELF-IMPORTANT BASTARD! It's not so much What he said as the way he said it: As if he were the first person in the world clever enough to make such an observation. Of course music's subjective you wanker. I'm just trying to shamelessly promote my night so why not indulge me, just for a minute and then fuck off.

Lots of things are subjective. For example, compleltely inexplicable to me is the fact that people seem to like you, although nowhere near as much as you evidently like yourself.

"I can't believe I've only known you for XXXXX"

2006-10-15T08:04:00.000-04:00

(XXXXX being a very - relatively - short period of time obviously.)

Question: Is this something girls say to every bloke? Cos they seem to say it to me a lot.

Don't get me wrong, I like hearing it and I'm not complaining but to me it just seems a little, umm err, daft. I don't especially thing I do anything different to any other geeza to put girls at a particular level of ease in my presence but my relationships with the fairer sex, if they go anywhere at all, seem to go there in an awful hurry. From "let's just see how it goes" to "girlfriend/boyfriend" and "I miss waking up next to you" texts before Richard Hammond is even able to get cut out of his upside-down rocket car.

http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

2006-10-08T05:56:00.000-04:00

Nothing especially noteworthy to add today but figured I may as well update thee on Subculture bits n bobs:

Beck: Ths Information - Jez said he thought this was one of the best things I've ever written. He is wrong.

Pipettes Live: Corn Exchange

I should also let you know that Bel Canto: Music Without Borders

is officially up and returning and launches at The Gladstone on the Lewes Road on the 27th of October. That's a mere 19 days away. Please come, the music will, I promise, be amazing. Not to mention the fact thta the more people show up the better we look and the more likely this is to turn into a paid gig as opposes to one with merely a bottomless bar tab. Oh dear, I'm going to have to exercise self-restraint....... shit.

2006-09-28T22:53:00.002-04:00

I've just been scanning through the photographs on my computer. Mostly from the past eighteen months or so. it feels like a different life, looking back at picttures of Keira in particular. because that's all she is now; a few pictures on my screen. she looks beautiful. i can scarceley believe that i ever had anythig to do with that woman. bizarre is what it is. i loved her, more i think than i've ever loved anyone and yet she's barely even a memory anymore. these mementoes of time past are hardly even that anymore. all they are is what they are. what do they remind me of? the hurt itself is gone. i remember that she hurt me but not really how it felt. i've come a long way since then, been involved with other girls that have treated me a lot better. yet she's never going to quite go away. i wish she would.

Observing

2006-09-16T12:01:00.000-04:00

I cannot tell a lie: my two weeks work experience at The Observer has not, at times, been all it was cracked up to be. Up until today I would say the sum total of my time actaully spent on WORK would be around an hour, maybe two.

(On the flip side I have managed to get an awful lot of stupid little essential jobs done that otherwise would not have been had I been at home or in Brighton. I've opened a bank acount, written several pieces for Subculture, applied for jobs and more work experience and sorted out the broadband for the new house.)

But then there's today, a day that has gone so far beyond anything I could have expected. I'm buzzing, I seriously am. Let me tell the long story, rather than the short one.

Last night was Franner's birthday do. Because the last sodding tube was at 12.30 (In one of the busiest, supposedly most cosmopolitan cities in the world. What a motherflumping joke) I had intened to just go out briefly to the boy's and come home and not spend the night sleeping on the floor using a hand towel as a blanket. I'd been feeling rough (and you know how much worse a cold is for a chap) and just wanted bed, with maybe a sprinkling of The OC.

But you know how I am. And how these things are. They just don't work out like that do they? Let's be honest I was never going to head home after an hour.

We were originally supposed to go to Button Down Disco at 93FeetEast but it got too late for that. I was having a good time anyway, scaring people I'd never met and chatting obnoxiously as I am wont to do. Then some girl called Lizzie (who I'm sure is lovely really but in that environment she just came across as a fit-but-you-know-it posh bint) decided that everyone was going to go to a club callled Turnmills in Farringdon - just across from The Observer actually - and was clearly one not used to not getting her own way. I said no. But not actively enough to influence others. And there were several others. But I was not goign to spend £15 getting into somewhere I had no interest in going to.

So I dragged my feet a bit, along with the other less enthusiastic folks and we'd missed the tube so it just wasn't happening. We went for a scuffle in a patch of scrubland and Francis went dustbin surfing down the road. Party on Ted!

So back to Francis' gaff (my word this is a very roundabout way of making a point, which I haven't even gotten to yet and might not even exist) and more beer, Mexican coffee and suddenly its 4.30am and I'm making bacon sandwiches for all.

The floor it is. Sleeping bag rather than towelette and sofa cushions to cushion but I had 4 hours before I had to get up. Bugger.

But get up I do. Borrow a fetching green shirt from Francis without his knowledge and on my way.

And actions stations almost from the off. Robin tasks me with writing an information panel for his big ass feature on biofuels. It takes a lot longer than it should and i start to sweat. But it gets done. After a few frighteningly cantankerous celtic barksI find some information.

Lunch. £6 for a steak sounds good but rib-eye is a crap cut of cow.

And then it kicks off. "I want this 600 word report turned into 200 words of interesting writing." growls the Scotsman. Now THIS is work. I read the piece on 'Pester Power' again and again (actually, having said that, I'm not sure I read the whole thing in one go at all) find what I think are the most pertinent points and attempt ot write something decent. Not sure if I succeed. Not sure if it's going. Not sure if that's even the point.

The point is I'm doing it. That's not TRYING to be a journalist, that's BEING a journalist. The sweat, the pressure, the deadline, the being shouted at. Before last week I THOUGHT I wanted to do this, now I know for sure. And I really think I can be good at it. BUt that's not the end of my day's excitement.

Shortly after this Robin throws a photo in front of me and demands 100 words on Open House London REALLY, REALLY quickly. Thank God for being friends with "archies" eh? Cos I actually know something about this.

Quick as you like 100 words - and specifically, 100 good words - emerge before Robin has even had the opportunity to hassle me. I'm pleased with what I've done. it's not much but this is one instance where size really doesn't matter. (Because of course, in all other areas, size is VERY important.)

And my name is in the paper again. But this time I feel no neet to blast everyone with an email because what I've done today feels self-validating. If people read it then great. I'll have a few copies but my ego isn't gonna overtake me as it did before.

This is what I want. This is what i can do.

9/11: Five years on

2006-09-13T07:26:00.000-04:00

This is a really great piece.

Ego

2006-09-10T06:36:00.000-04:00

What a strange thing one's ego is. It's an issue i've been giving considerable thought to recently. Firstly it was the dominant theme of a newspaper feature on Toby Young; then, in a piece in the Evening Standard magazine it was the spine of the story about some posh, rich twat called 'Lord' Eddie Davenport who apparently is desperate for the world to know how rich and twattish he is; it also seems to play an important role in explaining the dynamics of a new play I'm reading called Frost/Nixon about david Frost's interviews with Tricky Dicky after he resigned the Presidency (should that be capitalised? je ne sais pas).

My point, however, is - as it naturally should be - all about be. Yesterday I discovered I was to get a byline in today's Observer for an article I helped with about meethan emissions from Siberian thaw lakes. Sounds faaaaascinating doesn't it? (I can't find a link to it on the Observer website sadly but that's not really what I'm talking about anyway.)

I was, as any writer would be I suppose, very excited about the idea of seeing my name in print after just a single week's work experience. In a fit of "Raaaahh-ness" I then proceeded to sent an emmail out to, well, pretty much everyone, informing of my literary triumph. And then pretty much regretted it instantly. And then have been spending intermittent periods since wondering if I should be regretting it. Overwhelmed by internal conflict you see.

My first problem is simply the fact that I didn't really contribute that much to the story. Robin McKie found the original in New Scientist magazine, I just did a bit more research on the subject - the global warming potential bit is me - and composed a straight news piece on the subject which Robin used as a foundation for his more dramatic, more wordy, more Sunday newspaper version. My overall contribution was pretty minimal.

So I felt like a bit of a fraud for that. There's so little of me in the piece that I can't claim any credit for it. It was almost the same when I wrote stuff for the Georgetown newspaper last year. if it was in anyway edited, or if there were phrases in there that I knew weren't mine, - even if they improved the piece - I'd feel far less of an attachment to it. Almost like a father, informed that the child he'd been a loving and devoted parent to for years and years wasn't really his. He just can't love it as much. okay, it's probably nothing like that.

My second issue is with the fact that I felt compelled to inform all and sundy of my achievements at all. Who am I doing this for? Them or me? Who (or why?) do I want to be a journalist anyway? Public acclaim, respect, glory? I didn't think so before but now I'm starting to wonder. I write because I feel I have to. because I can't imagine not writing. That's what this
blog's for. I'm not really fussed if people read it or not - although obviously I used to email people when it was updated - but it's nice when I find out they do. It's like a diary I suppose.

Except it's not quite like a diary is it? It's in a public forum where anyone can stumble upon it, whether deliberately or not. There's writing which is done for public consumption and writing which is private. Before the internet it used to be that black and white. These days I don't think it is. Bloggin is a free expression because, in all honesty, it's unlikely that anyone's going to read. Keeping the reader in mind is less important with this so I can pretty much say i what i want. it's a form of free - but not completley free - expression.

If I write something in the Observer - for sake of argument - or anywhere else surely I want it to be read and surely I should be entitled to inform people that it's out there. That, I think, is okay but equally that is the source of the problem. I didn't really write the thing. it's just my name at the top. So really all it is about is ego. And wanting people to see my name in print in a national newspaper and say how great they think I am.

And that leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.

Coming soon..............

2006-08-25T17:17:00.000-04:00

Assuming these people agree to do it and that I can find a venue to host it I would like to be up and running with this little project by the time the new terms starts. Keep you posted.

Musical musings

2006-07-20T08:24:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I was interviewing some guy called Justin from a band called She Wants Revenge yesterday. He was, basically a pretentious prick. However he made a point, not sure he was aware he was making it but still, about music's significance being somehting you can't necessarily translate into words, music journalism therefore being obsolete (not that it was ever anything else). This linked in with something Andrea said on Monday night (she's not the most sensitive of creature's but is somewhat irritatingly precious herself) about the lack of value of music journalism. The fact that that is ALL I FUCKING DO is not something she felt the need to consider but nonetheless, is it not a legitimate point. Nietzche wrote something, which I haven't read actually, about the purpose of music is to help to communicate that which language cannot. Therefore, if music fills a gap in language how can language attempt to describe the gap that's being filled? It's a ginormous paradox/viciouscircle/conundrum and basically points towards the conclusion that all music writing is bullshit. Which is fine because I've only ever been interested in it out of a desire to not spend money on CDs or going to shows. However maybe music writing's value as an artform is not in communicating the meanign of music - by a continuation of this logic, impossible - but as simply an expression of meaning of the writer himself, just as valid as the music but distinctly separte from it. That maybe makes no sense and can be attributed to the limitation of language or my failure to yet master it as an expressive tool. But I'm better at this than playing the guitar so whaddya gonnna do?

Subculture Links

2006-07-20T07:12:00.000-04:00

You gotta be pretty bored to indulge in this tripe but here they are all the same:

Gomez Interview

Lily Allen review: yeah, mine isn't as good as Meghans

Sebadoh

Futureheads

Brighton. (Nearly) Naked Bike Riding. And stuff.

2006-06-26T10:16:00.000-04:00

It's MEEEEEEEEEE! And girls.
The de-sexualistion of the female form.
I didnt take this picture.
Aaaaaar Katie. Not so naked. Shame.
Brighton. Sunny.
Canadian Pub. A first for me.
;-)
DP in the mix.
Rob Ward: One of the most academically successful of my peers. And a fine looking chap. Not that either of those facts are self-evident from this picture.

England. Yesterday. Shit. But they still won. So bring on the Portugese on Saturday.

An open letter to Washington D.C.

2006-05-31T15:11:00.000-04:00

Dear DC

I wasn't expecting to feel sad about my departure but it's hard not to wish I wasn't leaving. The fast half was tough I'll admit but in the last six months i feel like we've really become great friends. It's hard to know what to say so I think maybe i should turn to the words of another "splendid bugger", Stephen Merritt of Magnetic Fields.

W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby, D.C.!
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby, D.C.!
Washington, D.C.
It's paradise to me
It's not because it is the grand old seat
Of precious freedom and democracy
No, no, no
It's not the greenery turning gold in fall
The scenery circling the Mall
It's just that's where my baby lives
That's all.
Washington D.C.!
It's the greatest place to be
It's not the cherries everywhere in bloom
It's not the way they put folks on the moon
No, no, no
It's not the spectacles and pagaentry
The thousand things you've got to see
It's just that's where my baby waits for me
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby D.C.!
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby D.C.!
Washington, D.C.!
It fits me to a T
It's not the people doing something real
It's not the way the springtime makes you feel
No, no, no
It ain't no famous name on a golden plaque
That keeps me that makes me ride that railroad track
It's my baby's kiss that keeps me coming back
It's my baby's kiss that keeps me coming back

I'll be back.

Nick

And you know this

2006-05-31T15:10:00.001-04:00

1. Americans are NOT stupid.
Yes they have a very stupid president but really, judging an entire people on its political leaders is no more legitimate than judging it on its big brother contestants. The paradoxical truth is that the people who would be best in the job are those who wouldn't in a million years dream of applying for it.

2. American beer is better than British beer.
Admittedly the top-seelling brews taste like piss but as a rule, these come in shiny silver and blue cans and the word "light" follows the brand name and these are hence easily avoided. If you drink beer because you enjoy its flavour (i'm back in England now, I don't need to spell it 'flavor' anymore and don't feel i'm ghetto enough to spell it 'flava') then the selection of fabulous ickle breweries in the states is stupendous.

3. Americans drink to get drunk.
Casual drinking is out. Mid-week drinking? Don't think so. Paraletic at weekends? Hell yeah.

4. Any job worth doing in America has a white face attached.
Of COURSE that's an absurd generalization and by America I really mean DC but the truth is, when it comes to the service sector at least, the shittier the job is the less likely it is to be a white guy doing it.

Discovering Seattleites

2006-05-31T15:10:00.000-04:00

Seattle stuff

Closing Time

2006-05-31T11:34:00.000-04:00

11.30am
I don't wanna go home. Waaaaaaaaah.

(No offence)

2006-05-15T02:19:00.000-04:00

It's 2.16am and I'm sitting at a computer screen attempting to power my way through to 4.30 when my shuttle picks me up to take me to Baltimore airport from where I'm flying to Seattle. I figured now was as good a time as any to update you on goings-on stateside considering how lame I've been on that front of late, with the only recent entries being album reviews written for Subculture. Here's another one by the way: Casiotone for the Painfully Alone.

So yes, I'm lissnin to nineties ladmag throwback Chris Moyles live on Radio1. Which is weird. he is a dick but I admire his ability to talk for half an hour straight without playing a choon. radio geeks will tell you that's a cardinal sin and one I also used to enjoy breaking back at good old URF when I think my record approached 45 minutes for straight talking without either playing a song or allowing anyone else - including Damien who was on the phone from Sheffield - a word in. (heard the station's gone somewhat down the crapper in my absence this past year, that is quite sad :( but maybe can be reinvigorated upon my return. Currently planning a reunion show with Chris and Arnie in early June. keep yez updated on that one.)

So. Umm. Yeah. (2.28am) What's been going on eh? My intramural football team made it to the final of the IM cup. Which was rather impressive considering we didn't lead a single game for a single minute in five group games and three playoff matches. The first round of playoffs we won on penalties, the second we went through when the other team were defaulted for fielding several ineligible players. Sadly our run of luck did not continue in the final. 0-0 after 90 (by which i mean 40) minutes including a goal that should have been (by us) but was judged not to cross the line. a last minute counter-attack in extra time from them lead to a cock-up by our last man (who had played a stonking game apart from that) and the prize t-shirt that seemed so close was snatched from grasp. ah well, maybe next year.

What else? Mr. Alex Murray came to stay in April. That was a cracker of a week. Went canoeing on the Potomac and to a few gigs including one at DC9 (audience of about 20 including at least 8 or so people from the other bands) by Lair of the Minotaur who are noisy and screamy and quite cheesy and growl a lot but was fun and not the sort of thing i'd normally go to. Also Regina Spektor the previous night at 9:30 Club who was sweet and weird and plays a chair with a stick. Oh yeah, and we spent the first day Al was here at RFK stadium enjoying baseball and beers in the sunshine. I swear there is no better way to spend a summer's afternoon.

2.49am
Other gigs. Nickel Creek at 930 club. They were grand and was especialyl satifying given that last time they came to Washington I buggered the date up and was in Pittsburgh. They played a supoib bluegrass cover of Britney's Toxic and The Weight by The Band which, as it always does, made me think of Franny and all those trips of yore in his little car when I would belt out "get a load of franny" to successfully piss off the boy behind the wheel. Good times. I was a little dismayed to see the average age of the audience was far higher than I'm used to which obviously means only one thing. is my music taste that middle of the road??!?!

My mind is a bit blank. Umm. Lots of work been done up until last week when I officially finished my Georgetown academic career. Essays of the lowest quality coming out of my arse. Kinda appropriate that. Had my last proper night out in DC for a while yesterday involving a meal at Front Page with Eel and Evie, a game of Kings, The Black Cat and falling asleep in The Diner. This is deemed to be a "party foul" and the result was exploitation/abuse by my compatriots: Close-up photos of my be-jeaned groin and simulated acts of an inappropriate nature. Will pose 'em up soon unless my mother tells me not too. Got back to my room at 6am and then had to be all packed up and checked out by noon. Tough day.

3.06am. I'm really struggling now. It's late. And I have to head to Seattle to reunite with Christina and then going to music festival Sasquatch to see Beck, the Shins, Nine Inch Nails and others. That is, i'll be going if I can find a way of getting there. I was told it happens at the Gorge near Seattle. Then spoke to Nate who informed me that it is in fact five hours outside Seattle. Okay. Lissenup Americans: 5 hours away IS NOT NEAR! Or maybe it is. And Brighton is NEAR Manchester. Grrr.

Hokay, i'm pretty much done for now. And done with my Georgeotwn experience completely. I shall continue blogging back in Britain cos it's kinda fun although I assume no-one'll really give a shit what I'm up to and if you do you'll either ask me when you see me or be doing it with me. Nonetheless the blog will be cleverly re-titled The South-East Coast Sound - cos i'm gonna be in Brighton durrrr.

Update: 3.59am.
I'm still here. I feel dead.

2006-05-08T17:09:00.000-04:00

So it seems I haven't had the time/inclination of late to update youse mofos on my continuing adventures in democracyland. Writing to order takes it out of you a tad. Here's my latest offering to subculturemagazine: Click Morrissey

Who says the album's been out for a month already?

Subculture

2006-04-13T22:05:00.000-04:00

My latest review and first for SubcultureMagazine.com: Click YeahYeahYeahs

Victory is mine. Victory is mine. Great day in the morning, victory is mine.

2006-04-07T18:10:00.000-04:00

"Spiteful adj. 'Vindictive in a petty way'"

Yup, that's me. My proudest moment as a journalist has arrived as I finally take the opportunity to deliver a low and completely unneccessary blow to pasty-faced, poncey arse-bandits Keane in a review, of all things, of a Dirty Vegas album. Most of you will probably be surpised that it's taken me quite so long to crowbar an assault of this nature into my work but it's such a satisfying senasation that it's been worth the wait. Particularly pleased that the term "bed-wetting" made it past the censors.

Sadly my description of the Arctic Monkeys as "miserable British fucks" did not. And the published picture that I took was captioned "Courtesy Tower Bride Exhibition". But the review itself, despite a fair mauling from the editors (which I actually can't complain too strongly about; most of the cuts were reasonable enough). The show was actually broadcast live on National Public Radio and if you'd like to give it a listen, can be found here. Enjoy

Warning: Gratuitously Unadulterated Display of Wussiness

2006-04-03T11:26:00.000-04:00

Don't say I don't listen to my audience. From the many many emails I've received, and from the conversations I've had with some of you over MSN, it seems that I'm a little too abstract in the content of my blog postings. Apparently all you want to read is gossipy literature of the Heat variety and actually have no interest in my fascinating reviews of the latest tATu album or musings on the moral validity of marketing as a career path.

Oh no despite hundred of academic qualifications between you, and most about to graduate (I assume, although some have been somewhat silent) all you vile voyeurs want to hear about is DA LAYDEEZ. To quote Chris Storie, "bonned any pretty/alright looking/i was drunk, so she looked ok/ ugly birds of late....?! i did the other week, and she was neraly 30....:) ha... i was very drunk.. !!" Born romantic innee? Dunno quite what he's getting at there but does anyone expect anything more from the oh so sweet Chilean? Anyway I guess it IS time you were filled in on such matters but since my family read the blog more than most this is the nice/sickeningly sweet version of things. If it's not good enough for you , well, may I point you in the direction of amazon's ADULT section..... So i'm including a photograph which may make some of you go "awwwwwww" and the rest of you vomit into your keyboards. If you feel you may fit into the latter category I recommend you don't scroll down.
So this is the laydee. Yes yes I look like an arse, need a haircut etc, but doesn't she look cute? Name of Christina, from Seattle. And that's all you're getting from me for now. (And NO, not just cos that's all I know! - gimme SOME credit puhleeeze)
p.s. For the geeks amongst you (i.e. Franny) that is indeed a JBT poster in the background. They're playing at 9:30 Club on Thursday. Should be a cracker.

Springiness

2006-03-31T12:06:00.000-05:00

Cheery Blossoms

2006-03-31T09:09:00.000-05:00

(Arch) Bish Bash Bosh

2006-03-29T11:24:00.000-05:00

All my own work. Who would win in a fight between the Pope and the Archbishop of Canterbury? A question I didn't summon up the courage to answer at Monday's roundtable forum, introduction to a series of inter-faith seminars here at Georgetown.

As you can see, I've begun taking pics as well as writing pieces for the paper. Not entirely without ulterior motive. Yes a girl was involved.

Point Break

2006-03-24T17:51:00.000-05:00

This week's paper piece

Aaaaaand the director's cut:

"Oh to have been lurking under the desk when this one was being pitched to the Hollywood execs. Might the scene have unfolded like this?

The writer creeps into the enormous boardroom and begins his spiel: 'I'm thinking Keanu Reeves....' – Mr. Burns-type reaches a bony finger towards the button marked "TRAP DOOR" - '.... as a super-sleuth FBI detective who goes undercover to apprehend a gang of uncatchable bank robbers'. The money-man taps the button and the screenwriter disappears through the floor. Hmm, perhaps a different approach was required: How about 'Keanu Reeves as a surfer. Gary Busey as a fat guy. Patrick Swayze as a hairy guy. Anthony Kiedis (Red Hot Chili Peppers front-man) as a guy who hops around?' [Dramatic pause] 'SOLD'. And there we have Point Break.

There are those who may attempt to intellectualize this film in order to justify its presence on their top 10 movies of all time list and they are foolish to do. Check out the tag-line: "100% Pure Adrenaline". Anyone who sits down with the DVD expecting their thoughts to be provoked and their synapses to be stimulated is more than a little naive. While there is the suggestion of depth and "message", this is nothing but the quintessential action movie - heavy on visuals and light on meaningful dialogue - NOT Mulholland Drive. And no less than perfect for it.

PB does indeed see a fresh-faced Reeves - in between Bill+Ted movies, perfect timing - as all-star college athlete-turned Federal Agent Johnny Utah (you really can't make this stuff up, although obviously SOMEONE did). He dons a wetsuit and grabs a long-board as he hunt down a gang of rubber mask-wearing wave-riders, calling themselves "The Ex-Presidents", ruthlessly robbing banks and pursuing "the endless summer".

It's simple. It's dumb. You gotta love it.

The surfer-role was one Keanu Reeves was surely born to play. When his character is summoned in to the field office to report on his progress, with the level of dead-pan none but Mr. Reeves is capable of, his response is simply: "I caught my first tube today... sir".

Through his immersion in the hedonistic world of boards and babes Utah finds himself torn between business and pleasure, falling not only for a foxy surf chick - an unnecessary tag-on that perhaps serves to counter all the testosterone on display- but for the life of the adrenaline junkie. He is drawn increasingly closer to his quarry until he's suddenly at the center of the action as a ruggedly studly Bodhi (a post-Ghost Swayze) and his crew take bigger and bigger risks. Supporting characters are disposed of and impossibly cringe-worthy lines are delivered: "Fear causes hesitation, and hesitation will cause your worst fears to come true." a particularly amusing example.

120 minutes of exhilaration: surfing, skydiving, bank robberies, car chases and Messr Keanu going "Dude, woah, shit!". With all these political movies out Point Break is the perfect antidote; as deep as a puddle, as undemanding as can be and for me, as satisfying and straight-forwardly fun as cinema gets. Maybe I'm too young to say this but, they just don't make 'em like they used to."

St Patrick's Day Shenanigans

2006-03-18T11:46:00.000-05:00

The progression from dusk til dawn. Guinness Float. Seemed like an ingenius idea at the time but was in fact the ruin of a paerfectly good pint and a perfectly good scoop of ice-cream. Will stick to Guinness-dipped Oreo cookies in future.
Grrls. In Green.

Flashing. Harsh.
Pitchers of green pictures. Guinness and Oscar. Legend. And not scary.

Different grrls up a tree.
"St. Patrick's Day celebrations end in tragedy: intoxicated Briton falls from tree" Reassuringly not the headline Georgetown is waking up to today. Climbing trees definitely up there with operating heavy machinery and using one's telephone as activities that should only be performed entirely sober.

A pictures speaks a thousand words

2006-03-17T19:15:00.000-05:00

2006-03-17T13:18:00.000-05:00

It may be bullshit but who doesn't love a good conspiracy theory or two? Or even an 81 minute documentary full of 'em.

Check this out: 911 Loose Change

2006-03-17T11:31:00.000-05:00

Belle+SebastianRule/I Heart B+S/Belle and Sebastian make the world a better place

2006-03-06T01:17:00.000-05:00

The gig tonight was a delight.

The New Pornographers are a lotta fun and Carl Newman is an entertaining fella who didn't have a set list tonight and just played songs the crowd shouted at him. I don't know them all that well but plan on picking up their new album sooner or later,

B+S are genuinely one of my favourite things in the entire world. Stuart Murdoch is a funny little man in a funny little band that are truly undislikable (except by Ned Raggett who thinks they suck but he is wrong).

9:30 Club rules and working there is da shit. Free drinks is a wonderful thing, particularly in a place where the prices are exorbitant and you don't get a true pint.

I plan on posting pictures form tonight, as well as from many other gigs, when I am more sober.

I'm Irish

2006-03-05T16:22:00.000-05:00

No, I'm really not. But my claim to Irishness is certainly stronger than that of most people here who, in their brazen mid-West drawl, make such a claim. (And BTW, the statement is very much, "I am Irish" not "I have Irish heritage/roots")

Everyone you meet here is Irish and they attribute an infinite number of different personality traits to that "fact". I've gotten myself in numerous arguments with people about it as I endeavour to persuade them that if they have never known anyone who has known anyone who has known anyone who lived in Ireland, the claim to the Emerald Isle's effect on their character is a somewhat weak one. A pint of Guinness on St. Patrick's Day does not count! Three pints of the stuff on a Tuesday morning?..... maybe.

I'm reminded of a Have I Got News For You when Paul Merton is trying to wind up Ian Hislop who is refusing to acknowledge his Welshness, despite the fact that he was born there, admantly asserting himself to be English. Paul Merton then says "Fine, if you're English then I'm Swedish!" to which Angus Deayton asks: "Were you born in Sweden?". The reply.... "No, but my furniture does come from there." Okay, so it's not that funny and maybe not even that relevant but to me, your identity is a product of your environment and upbringing and the people in your life. To claim such a strong relationship with a country to which you have never been and from where you know no-one is ridiculous.

It's an interesting attribute and perhaps I shouldn't be irritated by it but, well, I am. Maybe it stems from a lack of American history and the belief that an affiliation with an exotic (ha!) country makes them that much more special. Maybe it's from a general insecurity about being American. And I do get the sense that the American national identity is a fairly insecure one. With national anthem's sung all the goddamn time and stars and stripes everywhere (standing in the middle of the National Mall, at the foot of the Washington Monument, in one 360 degree panorama, me and Chris counted 14 flags and we probably missed a few), like the Subways last night, it strikes me that maybe they're trying too hard. In other words, the more, and more vehemently, someone says something the less convincing it seems.

That probably sounds meaner that it should. I don't think America or Americans have anything to worry about. This is a great country with a lot of great people and with really very little to be worried about. I love it here and have had some awesome experiences that I couldn't have had anywhere else. So I say to y'all yez Yankees, be proud of being American but step away from the shamrock....

Marketing

2006-03-01T23:25:00.000-05:00

"By the way, if anyone here is in marketing or advertising...kill yourself. Thank you. Just planting seeds, planting seeds is all I'm doing. No joke here, really. Seriously, kill yourself, you have no rationalisation for what you do, you are Satan's little helpers. Kill yourself, kill yourself, kill yourself now. Now, back to the show. " Bill Hicks

I am, it must be said, a trifle troubled at the moment and can't get the thoughts of the legendary, no late great, no... (damn, why are there so few ways to say that?)... anyway, Bill Hicks everbody. (He was generally funnier than that I swear)

I recently began an internship (see previous post for an explanation) in the marketing department of 9:30 Club here in DC. I am, as it were, "in" marketing at the moment. The 9:30 Club produces a wee little brochure/pamphlet detailing coming attractions at the venue - at least those which aren't immediate sellers - and this month's issue included a couple of pieces written by yours truly.

Exhibit A: The Subways
'Since they first emerged in the summer of 2004, The Subways' no-holds-barred blend of riotous punk rocka nd boisterous Brit-pop (not to mention a performance of their debut single "Rock 'n' Roll Queen on The OC) has helped them attract a devoted following on both sides of the Atlantic.
The Subways' musical direction is not an obvious one as they travel from The Pixies to The Sex Pistols via Oasis. Their much anticipated debut album Young For Eternity delivers the energetic exuberance and simple-but-stylish songwriting that those who know them have come to expect and those who don't are gonna want to grab with both hands. Spin described them as "adorably vicious" and that sounds about right. Blonde bombshell bassist Charlotte Cooper certainly seems to have as much bite as bark. Now is the time to catch them as the young threesome look to impress ontheir first major American tour.
Support comes from LA's super-hip indie pistols The Shys. Don't forget this is an early one - the ideal warm-up for a night on the town.'

LIES LIES LIES. Comparisons with the Sex Pistols and The Pixies? LIES. I really have very little time for The Subways. Remember seeing them at Pilton Party a few years ago but we were, I believe, concentrating on getting sloshed (yeah yeah, awful word, very AbFab) since Mark and Fay were behind the bar and seemed to get the change "wrong" every time making for a very cheap night. Bless 'em.

(BTW wasn't that the year Chris got latched onto by a 13 year - yeah, yeah, she was older than that but the story is funnier my way - and he proceded to romance her by looking up at the stars and pointing out Orion's belt. Nice one dude. Can't remember who the main band were that year. Anyone wanna help me out?)

Anywayz I barely believe a word of what I've written there - apart from the stuff about them being in the OC and about the bassist being - and while I think it's a decent enough piece it does sorta make me feel like I've sold my soul to the devil. Except NOT EVEN SOLD! I've given it away. In return for free tickets to gigs (including Supergrass, The Deftones, Belle+Sebastian/New Pornographer, Beth Orton - not bad huh?) and an additional entry on my CV. Right I'm going to confession. So convenient being at a Catholic university.

Exhibit B: Metric
'Metric frontwoman Emily Haines compels you to pay attention. Does she? I really have no idea. While she may have boys in her band, it's the feistier-than-Feist (Feist being a similar Canadian singer/songwriter type who also came from Broken Social Scene, hence the apt nature of such a comment) keyboardist at the front you're going to be staring Probably not a lie, she is certainly more attractive than they are at when the Canadian electro-alt quartet hit the 9:30 Club. Far more than just another artschool dropout indie band Actually that's exactly what they are, Metric combine the vibrant power of neo-new wave What in God's name does 'neo-new wave' actually mean?! acts like The Killers and Interpol with subtly sophisticated feminine charms that those silly boys could only dream of - not so much screaming sex as aggressively hinting at it. Their latest album Live It Out is filled with more guitars and less glam-rock than their previous efforts, or so I read on Amazon, I haven't actually heard anything they have previously done incorporating a multi-faceted melange of dejecting despair and electric elation Ooh! Catchy! that is as unpredictable as it is fierce. Spin calls Emily Haines, 'intimidatingly cool,' but don't let that stop you: for one night only, she's all yours.'

See what I mean?

Now don't get me wrong, I actually love my job and look forward to going into work on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And writing stuff like this is fun because it's so short that you're forced to really consider every single sentence, clause and word you're writing. There can be no readily discarded irrelevant lines because in 150 words or so everything has to mean something and it has to be assumed that everything is going to be read. As pieces of prose I am fairly proud of those two and the fact that they have been published and distributed to a circulation of literally many many thousands (admittedly only a fraction will actually read it but still).

But I just can't escape the fact that it's dishonest. That I barely believe a word of it. Not like me, I know many of you will agree (those of you who see me as something of a morality-free zone anyway), to find myself in the midst of a self-contained ethical entanglement.

So, the question is begged, does it really matter? Compare it to the Spencer Bates piece below and there really isn't much difference. Except with one it's marketing that you at least know is marketing while the other is marketing passing itself off as journalism.

I don't honestly believe everything in that extended diatribe about the boy Bates (don't call him Master) so it's a fairly deceitful article too I guess. He's not that great but he's a nice guy and was I never gonna write an vicious attack on his piano playing was I cos what's the point?

Anyway, I think Karma dealt me a blow last night (the details of which are not for general consumption) and on top of that I have to work at the Black Eyed bloody Peas gig next month in return for the week off work to see muvver and Lil (Happy Birthday Lily!). I ask you: Where IS the love?

____________________________________________________________________________________

So I went to The Subways gig last night despite my reservations about them. They certainly were eager to impress, I got that right, but almost to the point of being a little too try-hard. Their songs are pretty much awful and they seem fo the most part to amount to little more than a 90s tribute act, borrowing bits from everyone from Morrissey to Blur. But bless 'em they certainly gave it a go. Jumping around all over the place and the bassist's outfit (although short shorts rather than skirt, the end result was effectively the same) was nothing less (or should that read "more" than expected". Got chatting to her after the show; she was quite sweet - although not actually as attractive as people seem to think - and a bit surprised by the number of people that showed up (about a 1000, not bad for a band like that although t'was only $10), "Fanks for comin' daaaan, so laaaarvely to see you all". Good luck to 'em anyway. Pictures to come, Belle+Sebastian/New Pornographers tonight.

Newspaper pieces

2006-02-28T19:15:00.000-05:00

I know it's been ages n ages since I last wrote anything. Just so yez know I haven't been completely slacking off, here are a few links to some pieces I've written for the paper, including my first full page-r.

Take a chance on Bonnie Olde England I swear I don't write the headlines for these things. And it was funnier before the editors got their greasy mitts on the thing. And yeah, apparently Union was something of a fart in the wind and is back to being the manky old Zap.

So Sing Us A Song, You the Piano Man Another imaginative title. And again they choose to delete the best bits and ignore the fact that it stops making sense. If anyone wants a copy of the directors cut feel free to, well, whistle for it.

Soppy Valentines Day music piece. This is, godawful, I admit. Maybe you shouldn't read it.

Bitter, cynical Valentines Day music piece. Y'see, what they did was have a reversible paper that week. One side was upbeat, the other vicious and miserable. Wonder which one came more naturally to me?

Ask Amy

2006-02-23T17:31:00.000-05:00

This is hilarious and illustrative of the great divide in American society.

Taken from Monday's Washington Post -- Style Section

Monday, February 20, 2006; Page C12
Dear Amy:
My husband and I have lived in our quiet suburban Denver neighborhood for six years.

About two years ago two young gay men moved in across the street. They've taken the ugliest, most run-down property in the neighborhood and remodeled and transformed it into the pride of the street. Hooray for gays!

When it snows, they shovel out my car and are friendly, yet they mostly keep to themselves.
Last month I went out to retrieve my newspaper and watched them kiss each other goodbye and embrace as they each left for work.

I was appalled that they would do something like that in plain view of everyone. Yes indeed, how dare they be gay in anything other than a helpful and socially uplifting fashion?

I was so disturbed that I spoke to my pastor. He encouraged me to draft a letter telling them how much we appreciate their help but asking them to refrain from that behavior in our neighborhood.

I did so and asked a few of our neighbors to sign it.

Since I delivered it, I've not been able to get them to even engage me in conversation. Funny that...

I offer greetings but they've chosen to ignore me. What vile creatures. You tell them you are disgusted by their behaviour and suddenly they're not shovelling snow from your driveway anymore. I just goes to show dunnit?

They have made it so uncomfortable for the other neighbors and me by not even acknowledging our presence. THEY have made it uncomfortable for YOU? What the Fu........?!

How would you suggest we open communications with them and explain to them that we value their contributions to the neighborhood but will not tolerate watching unnatural and disturbing behavior.

Wondering

You're lucky that these gentlemen merely choose to ignore you.

Your neighbors could respond to your hospitality by hosting weekly outdoor "gay pride" barbecues and inviting all of their friends to enjoy life on our quiet suburban street.

I can hold out hope that they will choose to do this, but I'm spiteful in that way. Your neighbors sound much more kind.

In your original petition to these men, you basically stated that while you value them when they are raising the standard on your street and shoveling your driveway, you loathe them for being who they are.

The only way to open communication with your neighbors would be to start by apologizing to them for engaging your other neighbors in your campaign. Because you don't sound likely to apologize, you are just going to have to tolerate being ignored.
Amy

___________________________________________________________________

Just what I said. Hooray for the freedoms that this country was built on and which allows morons like this to have their say in a national newspaper and then be made to look like a complete idiot for holding such views.

Only in Washington

2006-02-01T20:21:00.000-05:00

Last night was the President's State of the Union address. For the uninformed (trust me, you're better off that way), this is a constitutionally required statement to Congress and the American people where he basically lays out how he thinks (this in itself something of an oxymoron when referring to W.) things are going with regards to America's interests, both domestic and foreign, and how he thinks (again, those two words look very strange together. as if they should be followed by: "as little as possible") things should go over the course of the next year.

I'm not gonna bore you with the content - partly because it has dominated my classes over the course of today and I've had quite enough THANK YOU. And partly because, despite being 5338 words and an hour in length he pretty much managed to avoid saying anything about anything. At one point my ears did prick up when he mention "human-animal hybrids" because, having seen The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, I think the world would be much livelier with a few centaurs and fawns trotting around. Sadly, Georgie wasn't coming out in favour of such things. Ooh, I've just thought - they'd be a bugger to give birth to wouldn't they? Certainly put an end to the debate over which hurts more, childbirth or being kicked in the...... anyways.

I digress. In the spirit of the occasion, despite not really having much interest in what he had to say, Katie and I decided to pop down to The Hawk and Dove on Capitol Hill, supposedly a hangout for congressional staffers, to sample the atmosphere. People cheered occasionally, people clapped occasionally and I rolled my eyes frequently. I do love it when Bush says "nucular" though. Kinda makes it tough to take him seriously when he's talking about the idea of nailing Iran.

Following the speech, we managed to grab a seat at the bar for a post-mortem and had been chatting for a while when we were approached by a woman who was immediately recognizable as British by her "umm"s, "ah"s and "do excuse me, I do apologize for interrupting you".......s. This wasn't the first time someone has overheard me speaking and, like a moth to, umm, well, another moth I guess, approached me. I sorta take it as the norm that English people like meeting and talking other English people in America, even if they are a decade or so their junior, so it didn't strike me as, initially at least, all that odd.

When her opening conversational gambit was "you don't happen to know Ewan Blair do you?" I was a trifle perplexed - is that or is that not the freakiest chat-up line you've ever heard?. Anyway, it turns out the PM's son is interning (it means "doing work experience" but doesn't sound quite as menial even though it REALLY is) at some Congressional office and as we discovered when she whipped out a business card, this woman was a journalist called Sharon Churcher and apparently the Chief American Correspondent for The Mail on Sunday (I know the cynical amongst you are thinking "b*ll***s she was" but I've just Googled her and it turns out she's legit) and was seeking to dig up some grime on Tony's eldest and seemed willing to flash the readies in return for some juicy gossip.

Sadly, despite the fact that I probably would have sold him out for a bowl of peanuts and another Guinness, neither of us have an "in" on the hill these days (I never did but Katie used to work for Minority Whip Steny Hoya who was shown on TV quite a lot last night) and so had nothing to offer her. We did get to keep Sharon (I think I can call her that)'s card and she told us to give her a call should we discover anything useful so i'm gonna do some digging. Finding a Brit in DC can't be that hard can it?

Anyone who can formulate a way of tracking him down and getting him into an incriminating position can have a share of the greenbacks. I just need some ping-pong balls, a star-fruit and 200ft of parcel tape....

Gig-tastic

2006-01-30T12:31:00.000-05:00

Okay so I think this is actually the worst, most pretentious, wanky thing I've written but to satisfy legions of yearning discerning readers I'm posting the link anyway

Although it did get me a front page mention.

2006-01-29T20:29:00.000-05:00

Look! A squirrel on water skis!

Have a nice day!

2006-01-09T15:44:00.000-05:00

Despite my very best efforts to avoid adopting any American-isms whatsoever during my annee etrange (and I think I've done quite well - if anything I'm more British than I was six months ago), just last week I allowed that most cliched of cliches to escape my lips last week while bidding farewell to a friend's mother. I wish I could pretend that it was an ironic slip of the tounge but sadly t'was not the case. I said it. I meant it. And dag nammit I'm gonna defend it.

We've all heard this phrase said a thousand times in a thousand American movies. And oh how we have mocked it: for it's apparent lack of sincerity; for being a lazy attempt at manipulating a few more dollars out of our pockets with false platitudes; for the surgically applied smile that comes with it.

Nonetheless I've grown accustomed to it. Over my many and far too frequent visits to restaurants and bars that little token of insincerity feels like one of those after dinner mints that you pick up as you're on your way out the door. While I'm still far too cynical to believe that the waiter or barman (let's be honest, more often than not it's a barman) is really all that bothered about how my day or evening goes, in contrast with back home in Britain you at least feel like they are not secretly wishing that you will fall down an open man-hole cover (does anyone know an example of where that has actually happened or is it just in loony tunes?) or get hit by a taxi as you cross the street.

Having worked in several service-sector places of employment in my time I can say that with some authority. At the delightful beach bar I worked at over the summer the house motto was not "the customer is always right" but rather "the customer is always a......" - anyway, you get the idea. (BTW over Christmas I was (rightly) reprimanded by my Aunt Pauline for my employment of "colourful" language in m' blog so, at her behest, I resolve in the coming semester to keep it to a minimum.)

Last night Katie, Dave Mason (Sussex-er visiting DC for a few days from Lousiana State University) and I were taken out for a delightful meal with Mark "Sparky" Wilson (another Sussex-er who's currently studying at the University of Texas) by his immensely affable and far too generous parents. The restaurant was Pappa Razzi and easily the flashest eatery I've been to in America.

My point (and I do have one, it all links together if you're patient. Honest.) is about Bill. Bill was our waiter for the evening who came over to our table and immediately introduced himself. As Bill. He then proceeded to go through the long and obviously very well rehearsed list of specials. Unfortunately, five minutes later i couldn't remember a word of what he'd said. Other than the fact that his name was Bill. It felt like we'd all made a friend. In Britain you're lucky if you get service with a hungover grimace let alone a smile. In America it's service with a relationship.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

2005-12-09T16:31:00.000-05:00

Not usually one to get too bothered by the Christmas period (or "holidays" as they insist on calling it here for fear that it may be misinterpreted as, y'know, a religious thing - trust me the Christ side of things sold out to big business years ago) I've been surprisingly taken aback by how willing I've been to embrace the spirit of the festivities. My roommate can be held largely responsible as he came back from Thanksgiving and began immediately to Christmas-ify the old homestead.

It's hard to be a miserable fecka in the presence in a room taken over by Christmas lights and containing not one but TWO! Christmas trees. But he didn't stop there. Oh no no no no (ho ho ho ho ho). Next we get a wreath on the door.
Somewhat impractical it may be argued but doesn't it look nice. And it's very real too. i have pine needles bloody everywhere to prove it. So all this stuff helped get me into the spirit of the season but if it wasn't enough.......
Snow! Yes we've all seen it before and apparently you all had loads more than this at home but still this place doesn't half look purdy under a blanket of white powder.

Here is essentially the same picture but taken at night so you can see the lights on the Christmas tree.

2005-12-05T18:52:00.000-05:00

So the smarmy self-satisfied Sussex student union shites have finally voted to ban coke. They couldn't do it last year but as soon as I'm out of the country they sneak it in. Well fucking done to them.

I have to say, as if you couldn't already have guessed, that this really pisses me off. It's not that I have any great love for the sickly sweet soda (I'm in America, I'm allowed to call it that for purposes of alliteration) and condone any of the practises (unethical, exploitative or otherwise) that the company carries out, but the fact that the Union has actually voted to ban it stinks of hypocrisy.

If the Sussex Students Union actually had any influence and were genuinely active amongst their student constituents they wouldn't have to get the 5% of politically motivated students to turn up to the bloody AGM - which is, to my mind, the most pointless event in the calendar, serving only to dictate the Union's so-called "political position" on a number of issues that may have national and global significance but which are completely irrelevant to the students themselves - and vote to de-cokeify the campus.

Perhaps it seems like the democratic way to do things but, umm, no, it really isn't. To steal a quote from good ol' Rosa Garwood, Union Finance Officer: "Our boycott sends a clear signal that our students are not prepared to continue to finance a company whose ethical rating is so incredibly poor.". Umm, no. It really doesn't. The message sent is that the majority of students who turned up to the Union's Annual General Meeting (I believe it has to be 500 people to achieve the magical "quoracy" so it could have been as few as 251 voting in favour of the motion, although obviously I wasn't there so have no idea) voted in favour (see how I still put my Us where they belong?) of the ban. Rosa Garwood: thou is a moron. I knew GaV would have been better.

The democratic way to do things, if they cared so much about this issue, would be to get their fat arses (actually I believe prime protagonist Rosa Garwood is particularly bony of the bottom but for the purposes of this rant....) out from their plush top floor Falmer House offices and work to get the fuckin' student population to care as much as they do. If they could convince the students that Coca Cola's business practises were as abhorent as they say they are then they would exercise their rights under the democratic capitalist system in which we live, and stop buying the stuff themselves.

But no. That would be far too much effort. The supposedly "liberal" Union's approach, to restrict freedom of choice is far simpler and apparently sends Coke a real message. Yeah? Really? Nice one USSU. Really representing your people there.

My word, all that aggression has made me thirsty. Wonder what I'll have to drink?

2005-12-03T14:29:00.000-05:00

Not one to repeat stories I read on the internet but couldn't resist this one that I received in an email about the late great Richard Harris. Courtesy of Popbitch:

"One of the few drinkers who could keep up with George Best was Richard Harris. Back in the 80s, Harris was starring in a play at the London Palladium. During the day he spent most of his time getting drunk in Soho. One afternoon he got chatting to a beautiful blonde. Harris explained he was in a play, and that she had to see it. He then got a friend to run round to the theatre and get him two comp tickets. Many hours later, Harris and the blonde were hammered. He reached in to his pocket, finds the tickets and takes the blonde to the theatre. They take their seats. About 10 minutes in to the play, Harris suddenly stands up, loudly exclaiming "Oh fuck, I'm in this! And runs off backstage to get changed."

Squirrels of Satan

2005-12-02T17:07:00.000-05:00

Possibly the most frightening of God's creatures, these little black buggers seem to be everywhere on the GU campus. Don't for a second think that that glimmer of light in his eye is a reflection of the flash from my camera - oh no, these evil incarnations are lit from the inside.

Fearless as can be and with no respect for humankind, I swear I spotted one selling drugs outside the elementary school just down the road the other day.

In the procrastinatory search for an explanation, a quick Googling garners 28,000 results and numerous reports of sightings across North America but few real answers. I did however, come across an article from the Post back in May, with the somewhat frightening headline "Black squirrels take over Washington". Since I couldn't be arsed to actually read the thing and discover, most likely, a fairly harmless report about their numbers increasing yaddayaddayadda, I can but assume the DC Metro area is now run by these malevolent manifestations of beelzebub and they are gradually working their dark magic over the entire population. Scared? You should be.

On a different note (but perhaps equally scary to some) I'm thinking of buying the TopGun soundtrack; what does everyone think? I watched the film on Monday night for the first time in aaaaaaages and realized quite what an awesome movie it is. I think it possesses a musical accompaniment so terrible it's fabulous but other may perchance disagree. I could go on but I think I'd better not.

2005-12-02T11:53:00.000-05:00

Having grown somewhat bored of my own staid, formulaic attempts at music journalism recently, I jumped at the chance to be part of The Guide's Christmas feature. Somehow they seem to have got it into their minds that I'm their muso-geek in residence - seriously not true but I'm not telling them that - and asked me to come up with a look at a few "alternative" Christmas songs. Which I did. And it was fun.

Click: Putting The Cool Back Into Christmas

Please don't take it too seriously: Comparing Mogwai to "softly falling snow"? Purrrlease.....

Oh yeah, and as you can see from my byline, I'm down classed as a "Hoya Staff Writer" as opposed to "Special To The Hoya". I'm not entirely sure what difference that really makes appart from making it more ethically questionable to be writing for the other side as I am wone to do on occasion. I guess if there was a payrole it would mean I'd be on it? Sadly not.

School Spirit

2005-12-01T15:58:00.000-05:00

Not, sadly a cocktail (although maybe it should be one - I shall experiment; I'm thinking something with Vermouth in it) but an omnipresent psychological phenomenon amongst American students that is unheard of in England.

Last week was Thanksgiving, the single most profitable part of the year for American airlines as millions of people fly back and forth across the country to spend time with their families eat turkey and give thanks for..... well, I'm not entirely sure. Click Answers for the answer.

The result was a mass exodus of the student population from campus for several days. Not having received many invitations to spend time with people's families (how sad) this left a number of Brits and Aussies with little choice but to get ratted, the result being two unfortunate drunken text messages sent (which i take full responsibilty for, despite having consumed enough belgian lager to stun a mule) and the most evil of hangovers on Thursday morning(/afternoon). Suffice to say, my thankfulness was somewhat repressed that day.

Saturday however, saw Georgetown University Basketball's first home game of the season and I cannot express vehemently enough quite how different the American approach to college sports is to our back home. They take it, to say the least, somewhat seriously.

Personally I know absolutely nothing about Sussex's football team; Occasionally I may glance at the sports results in the Badger but I couldn't tell you where they play, any of the names of the players, whether they're any good or not or even the colour of the shirts. I have certainly never been to see them play and don't know anyone else who has either.

But here college sports is, to use an oft quoted sporting cliché, in a different league. While American Football is not Georgetown's sporting forté - generally the big state school are more successful; check out my good buddy and fellow Sussex-er Mark Wilson's blog for a comprehensive account from UT - but when it comes to B-Ball they're up there with some of the very best in the country.

Firstly, the team doesn't just play in the college gymnasium. Oh no. The Hoya's (for that is their nickname) play in the 15,000 seat downtown arena that is the MCI center. Also known for being where the professional b-ball team The Wizards play and the venue of Michael Jordan's last game before he retired - for the final time, the building is an absolute colossus. Despite the fact that most students were still away for thangsgiving the stadium was at half full. Can you imagine 7,500 people turning out to watch, for example, the Sussex University Nobodies play against the Sheffield It's-Grim-Oop-Norf-ers? Indeed, kinda unlikely.

The game itself was a bizarre experience, particularly for the passion that some of these GU students have for their team, and therefore, for the University itself. it's certainly something that wouldn't be bad to export back to the apathy-ridden campuses of Britain. The support on display that day was, I imagine to a certain extent, alcohol-fueled but still, gotta give credit to the "Hoya Blue" (oh yes, they even have a school spirit organization).

Here we have, for want of a better term, a hymn sheet, informing the uninitiated of the various cheers to be, umm, cheered throughout the course of the game. Hardly Shakespeare (although why I think the works of Shakespeare would be a useful template on which to base chants for a college basketball game I'm not sure) I admit but still pretty impressive. And everybody genuinely shouts them all the way through the game.

I couldn't quite bring myself to join in, personally being more familiar with abusive chants questioning the legitimacy of an opposition player's parentage or the manager's sexual orientation; they are a bit more polite here it seems. I'm also still a tad uncomfortable with pronouncing Defence as DEE-FENCE.

Unlike American football basketball is a seriously exciting game and as I said before, the Georgetown team is pretty good. Sadly not quite good enough on the day though as truly it was a game of two halves. Despite dominating the first, with many a swoosh being heard as they scored three-pointer after three-pointer, and going in ten points in front at the break, they came out in the second half a different side and couldn't hit a thing. I'm not sure I heard anyone say "my granny could do better" but I'm sure it was on the minds of all in attendance.

Ultimately they only lost to Vanderbilt (from Tennessee I believe) by 7 points, which is not terrible but the, given the size of these dudes (the "shorties" on the team being 6ft. 1in) I'm sure they can do better.

The result however, was largely immaterial. What was most interesting to me was the way these kids get behind their team and thus become part of the school itself. We have no such sense of unity back home, and by that I mean in Britain as much as I mean at Sussex. We don't relate to each other on a broader level through our shared experiences; we have no sense of collective identity on any plain beyond our localised social groups; we have no more sense of commonality with a fellow Brit or Sussex student than we do with anyone else.

Why that is, I'm not sure, but it seems like it would be a nice thing to reach towards. People partly hate Americans because they see them as possessing a blind belief in their country beyond that which would be rational, overlooking its failings in the process but maybe we have gone too far in the other direction. I'm not arguing against cynicism; the Americans are not, I think, taught to question authority enough, but sometimes it's not necessarily a bad thing to see good things.

I should be writing an essay but I'm not

2005-11-20T13:04:00.000-05:00

I realise that this site seems to be turning into a home for links to the various pieces I've been writing for the various media here at GU. I promise to resume regular scheduled programming as soon as I have something worth writing about. If you have any ideas/questions for me feel free to suggest 'em. In the mean time, here's my latest trite efforts at music journalism.

Published on Thursday in The Hoya's competitor paper, The Voice:
A preview of the Bright Eyes/Magic Numbers concert I went to on Friday evening which, sadly, didn't live up to expectations.

In Friday's Hoya:

A slightly more interesting, if poorly composed, account of a trip to a jazz club in Georgetown.

Thanksgiving's coming up and I'm gonna be stuck here with lots of time to write about everything I'm not doing. Expect exciting reports of hour upon hour of me staring at my walls. Perhaps I'll have dinner with the jesuits. Definitely gonna get to the first home basketball game of the season next Saturday though. Until then....

Politically persuaded?

2005-11-19T21:40:00.000-05:00

...... Interesting. While on a fairly random perusal of political blogs, looking for something on the latest Supreme Court nominee Samuel Alito for an essay, I stumbled across this questionnaire. Desperate as I was to find out my political persuasion, cos I'm really confused about it, I answered the questions - a little narrow in my opinion - and it turns out I am.....

Social Liberal
(75% permissive)

and an...
Economic Liberal
(23% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Strong Democrat

Link: The Politics Test How very reassuring. This makes me, apparently, a touch more socialist than Bono but not quite as strong a leftie as Ghandi. And I had such great plans....

Another bloody boring review

2005-11-14T18:18:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to feel like I'm treading water with my writings for The Hoya. I barely have time/opportunity/inclination to listen to the CDs I pick up and then am rushed into writing a half-cocked review of an album I've listened to about, appropriately, half of. Nonetheless here are this week's lustre-lacking offerings:

Firstly Mobius Band - not terrible, not fabulous. From Baltimore.

Secondly Supergrass - another album that came out yonks ago but since I get to keep the disc I thought it was worth writing 250 words on.

Next week should include my first treacherous piece for The Voice, The Hoya's much less pretentious rival publication on campus.

Until then.....

EXCLUSIVE: Scrawny indie kid spotted at hip-hop show

2005-11-10T15:30:00.000-05:00

Okay, so the pictures are shite but you get the idea.....

It's been a week of musical contrasts this side of the pond.

Friday saw me trek my way out to Baltimore - currently competing with D.C. for the title of murder capital of the USA with a homicide rate 5.48 times the national average; sadly pipped into second place by Washington which has a murder rate 5.75 times the national average. wahey! we're number 1! - to see Kanye West at the Mariner Arena. This is the man who, in a live Hurricane Katrina telecast, announced to the world: "George Bush hates black people." An amusing, if slightly mis-guided statement I feel. Dubya doesn't discriminate on the grounds of race - he hates poor people.

Unfortunately I'm just not "street" enough to do justice to such a cracking gig. Suffice to say it was off the heezy fo' sheezy. He performed everything I wanted to hear off The College Dropout and, although I don't have Late Registration, his new stuff sounds pretty good. I really don't understand why he had to change clothes quite so frequently but I won't hold that against him.

Late Tuesday evening I ventured out into the pouring rain to Blues Alley, D.C.'s most famous jazz club (nice!) right here in Georgetown. Not quite as dingy as I would have liked and without the smoky atmospherics I've been lead to expect from just places it's nonetheless a charmingly intimate venue and perfect for jazz.

The David Bach Consort were launching their latest CD - David Bach himself is at the keyboard to the right of the picture, bit of a smug SOB to be honest - and although my knowledge of jazz is pretty much limited to bits of Miles, Charlie Parker and Louis Armstrong (no, Jamie fucking Cullum DOESN'T count), I know what I like. Sometimes you want music that takes you places; sometimes you need it to go nowhere and just drift around like a a cloud, occasionally seeping through your consciousness.

This week's Hoya

2005-11-05T23:59:00.000-05:00

A few more articles in this week's paper.

Firstly, a review of t.A.T.u.'s second album although the headline is not mine and I'm not entirely sure it's an accurate summation. I certainly don't think t.A.T.u had an edge to lose at any rate.

Secondly we have Bliss? umm, yeah, not so much. An obscure indie-pop album that should never see the light of day.

Much more fun to write negative reviews than positive ones I think.

A Brush With Royalty

2005-11-05T23:23:00.000-05:00

What a handsome chap. How bizarre is this? On his first official tour of the U.S. with his new missis, the next King of England shows up at my school. As a self-confessed could-not-care-less-about-the-horse-faced-crones, I had no real interest in catching a regal walkabout. Since I had no other plans for my Thursday afternoon, and the simple fact that it was happening within nine feet of my front door, I thought I might as well stand in the sun and take unflattering pictures of HRH. Is Prince Charles a crackhead? I wouldn't dream of making such a slanderous accusation. Treason's still a capital offence back home right? Certainly this serves as proof, if it were needed, that the Royal Family could do with dabbling a little further into the gene pool. Wise-ass comments aside, he apparently decided entirely of his own volition to come and say 'ello to us upon catching sight of these chaps with the old Union Jack.
Anglophiles: Cassie, Owen and Elle.

William Elliot Whitmore Review

2005-11-01T20:41:00.000-05:00

Here's my latest article published in The Hoya. Ignore, if you will, the fact that I completely contradict myself in the last paragraph as well as the minor detail that the album came out last Spring.

Click: Ashes To Dust

Pumpkins and the like

2005-11-01T13:48:00.000-05:00

Halloween seems to be a massive frickin' deal here. While at home it seems to be little more than an excuse (as if they need it) for kids to run amock through residential areas, throwing missiles at houses and generally terrorising the neighbours, in America it takes a much more sanitary form. Rather than just the one day it seems to last for weeks and everyone dresses up in costumes ranging in from the, frankly, piss-poor to the obscenely impressive and extravagant. Lizzie requested that I put a few pictures of human beings on the blog so here ya go. These folks are dressed fairly mutedly as it goes. From left to right: Elle, Greg, Katie and Shantel.

This is the nearest you're gonna get to a picture of me so make the most of it. Kinda says it all really doesn't it?

Oh yeah, and completely irrelevant to Halloween, as I was walking through Georgetown with my headphones on, on Saturday morning I was most confused as crossed the road and suddenly there were directors chairs, cameras and people standing around in puffa jackets everwhere. If you're a little quicker than I you may have realised I was stumbling through a movie set. Turns out some new Nicole Kidman flick, "The Visitors", is being filmed here. That was quite exciting anyway (although not as exciting as watching Man United take an absolute stuffing from Middlesbrough a few hours later).

POSTSCRIPT
I foolishly omitted to mention the most significant event in my life of recent days was a house/room/hotel suite-warming party I attended on Saturday evening hosted by the charming, elegant, intelligent and magical Holly Mitchell at her new residence at George Washington University. As I am wone to do I spent the entirety propping up the bar (oh yes, she has a bar in her bedroom) and ended up stealing (ahem, I mean liberating) the phone from the lobby of the building as we departed - I'll put it back I promise. A fine evening spent in the company of non-Georgetown types including a very amusing chap who, as conversation progressed, adopted an increasingly imitative British accent. Wot a legend.

N.B. I have by no means amended this post as a result of threats received from the aforementioned Holly Mitchell.

Read it/Don't Read it.

2005-11-01T13:34:00.000-05:00

Although I'm well aware that no-one other than my mother has any interest whatsoever in the academic side of life here at Georgetown (trust me, I'm the same) I thought it might be vaguely interesting to post an essay I wrote for Bureaucratic Politics. It looks at the portrayal of the bureaucracy in A Few Good Men and, geeky as this sounds, I did actually quite enjoy writing it.

Government – 439: Bureaucratic Politics

A Few Good Men - Rob Reiner (1992)

A Few Good Men is about much more than the death of a young Marine at the hands of two of his peers, and the subsequent court martial of those responsible. Through the public platform of a trial setting, Aaron Sorkin’s script conducts and leads us through an examination into the power structures within the military, exploring the culture of The Marines and the subjugation of the individual to the collective of the Corps. Sorkin and Reiner’s portrayal of the U.S. military in general, and of the Marine Corps in particular, is of an institution rigidly arranged much like any other within the bureaucracy but with every element of it taken to its furthest extreme. He also shows us a military unit where the sense of culture has become so strongly ingrained into the men under Colonel Nathan Jessep’s command, that their role as protectors of democracy and the first line of national defence has been lost, displaced by abstract conceptions of honor, code and loyalty. I intend to examine this film within the context of public administration theory and also to dissect the representation of the culture of the Marines and consequently the sense of mission within the organization. To a lesser extent I would like to explore the importance of the role Jessep attaches to “Turf”, the value he places on the autonomy of his unit and the extent to which an over-extension of the autonomy of any group or individual can, as it does in this film, result in corruption and a systematic breakdown of the bureaucratic process.

A Few Good Men is ostensibly, the story of two Marines, Lance Corporal Harold Dawson (Wolfgang Bodison) and Private Lowden Downey (James Marshall), on trial for the murder of fellow soldier, Private William Santiago. The defendants maintain that Santiago’s death was the result of a “Code Red” - an illegal disciplinary procedure - that went wrong and that they carried out on the orders of Platoon Commander Lieutenant James Kendrick (Kiefer Sutherland). Lawyer Daniel Kaffee (Tom Cruise) seeks to convince the jury to absolve the men of responsibility by proving that it is the command structure and base commanders at Guantanamo Bay that are entirely culpable for the young Marine’s death. Autonomy of action does not occur amongst the rank and file officers because, in the words of base commander Colonel Nathan Jessep (Jack Nicholson), “We follow orders or people die. It’s that simple.” The film climaxes in the courtroom in a dramatic confrontation between Kaffee and Jessep, when Kaffee, certain that the original order came from the highest authority on the Cuban base, goads the arrogant Colonel into admitting as much.

Of the numerous concepts visible in A Few Good Men, perhaps the most easily applied is that of Public Administrative Theory articulated by David Rosenbloom in Public Administrative Theory and the Separation of Powers. Rosenbloom suggests that Public Administrative Theory is inherently problematic because it is based on three separate approaches to public administration which are each based on the three branches of national government. The Managerial approach, which can be said to associate most strongly with the executive and is seen as the most impersonal or scientific of the three, stresses the importance of a rigid hierarchical structure as the key to an efficient bureaucratic system. Based upon Weber’s theory of Bureaucracy, the Managerial approach takes “top-down” view of the administration with authority derived from above and with ‘fixed jurisdictional areas ordered by rules, laws or regulations’ . The role of any individual employee is defined in terms of his or her rank or position within the agency and is said ‘to turn the individual worker into an appendage to a mechanized means of production’ . Individuals are looked upon in functional terms and the entire set-up is focused on political neutrality in order to pursue the maximization of efficiency, economy and effectiveness.

The Political approach to administration is distinctly at odds with the Managerial, pointing out that the private business organizational structure can not be applied to fit perfectly the public sector because public administration is inherently political. With its authority stemming from government, its responsibility is to the entire population rather than to private shareholders. Instead of seeking neutrality ‘the political approach stresses the values of representativeness, political responsiveness and accountability’ and instead of reducing the individual to the task they perform, it seeks to identify their interests within those of a group. As it is said to bean extension of the public and the executor of the public will the administration must be seen to be so. As a result, much greater focus is placed on means rather than ends and process is as important as results.

A Few Good Men and the trial of the two Marines can be seen to be a manifestation of the clash between these two approaches to Public Administration. Colonel Jessep and Lieutenant Kendrick clearly stand at the end of the spectrum favoring the Managerial, believing firmly in the rigid rules that govern the Marine Corps, the importance of rank dictating authority and the strict adherence to the chain of command. Throughout the film, while describing the death of William Santiago as “tragic”, both men show themselves to be cold, callous individuals with neither showing any visible signs of regret that such an incident occurred, believing it to be advantageous to national security and therefore justified. While on the witness stand, Kendrick states that ‘William Santiago is dead, and that is a tragedy, but he is dead for a reason. He is dead because he had no honor. He is dead because he had no code. And God was watching.’ Similarly, Jessep’s attitude is equally dismissive, stating that Santiago’s death ‘probably saved lives’.

To Jessep, the Marines under his command are not human beings but cogs within the machinery of national security that he, and alone, is in charge of operating. He considers himself responsible to no-one and expresses disgust and distain for anyone who questions his right to run the Marine base at Guantanamo Bay precisely as he sees fit to do so. He feels that, having risen to the rank of Colonel, and therefore having a great responsibility for the national security, both he, and the methods he chooses to employ in carrying out this job, are entirely beyond reproach and legal accountability: ‘I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it.’ he spits. Jessep is the embodiment of the ‘ends justifies the means’ approach to organizational function.

The polar opposite of Jessep can be seen in Sam Weinberg (Kevin Pollak), co-counsel for the two defendants, who represents the voice of the political approach and who refuses to distinguish the action from the actor. He believes that being ordered to do something does not absolve individuals from accountability for the consequences of their actions, regardless of where that order came from. Kaffee’s defence of the men is based on the premise that, while accountability for Santiago’s death must be found, it is to be found in the commanding officers; the strict disciplinary structure of the Marine Corps and the regimented culture of honor prevents them from questioning their superiors or disobeying orders.

The concepts of Culture and Mission within the context of the bureaucracy are closely intertwined, with the latter being a direct product of the former. James Q. Wilson describes “culture” as being ‘a persistent, patterned way of thinking about the central tasks of and human relationships within an organization’ and ’Mission’ as ’a culture that is widely shared and endorsed by operators and managers alike….[which] confers a feeling of special worth on the members’ . In any organization a strong sense of mission is important ‘but especially to a military organization in which a willingness to confront danger and perform selflessly often is the product of a shared commitment to the ethos or culture of the service. ’ In Dawson and Downey we can clearly see this as an important, if not the most important working characteristic of the Marines. JoAnne Galloway (Demi Moore) describes the Marine Corps at Guantanamo as ‘fanatical’ and as we learn of their unerring adherence to “the Code”, its mantra “Unit, Corps, God, Country”, its foundation in honor and which does not permit the individual to think of himself before his fellow Marines, we are left with little doubt that this is true. Kaffee struggles to comprehend such resolute single-mindedness as he attempts to persuade Dawson to accept the prosecutor’s offer of six months in jail if they plead guilty. Dawson refuses to do so, responding, ‘We joined the Marines because we wanted to live our lives by a certain code, and we found it in the Corps. Now you’re asking us to sign a piece of paper that says we have no honor. You’re asking us to say we’re not Marines.’ The men are, essentially, prepared to sacrifice their lives, rather than compromise their honor and integrity by admitting to the accusations they are on trial for. The sense of culture and mission can also be seen in the real-life recruitment techniques of the Marines, whose advertising slogans, including, ‘The Few. The Proud. The Marines’ and ‘Honor, Courage and Commitment’ , place emphasis on collective, elite nature of the organization.

We cannot look at A Few Good Men without discussion of the subject of “turf”. “Turf” is the ability an organization or individual has to behave autonomously of outside interference and is the asset which Jessep clearly prizes above all others. He sees himself as having risen through the military ranks to an untouchable level. Operators and managers are said to be prepared to sacrifice more tangible rewards in the workplace in return for autonomy throughout the film Jessep can be seen to embody this theory: ‘I can deal with the bullets, the bombs and the blood. I don’t want money and I don’t want medals’, he just wants to ‘run my unit as I run my unit’ . He is violently insulted that he should be forced to answer for his actions and that an external body should believe it has the authority to interfere with his job and his right to make the decisions that govern his base. When on the witness stand he reveals that he did indeed order the Code Red, it is out of this arrogant sense of self and belief that he is beyond the scope of accountability.

Nietzsche wrote, ‘Whoever fights monsters must see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.’ Ha, quoting Nietzche, what a joke. As if I've read this! Actually found it quoted in some trashy novel I read and thought it sounded approriate While the overall structural organization of the bureaucracy and the division of powers is meant to restrict individual autonomy and limit the possibility of this occurring, this system as failed the Marine Company portrayed in A Few Good Men. Jessep sees himself as responsible to no-one, free to command his ‘unit’ in as despotic and autocratic a manner as he sees fit, and the death of a young Marine was the result. The deeply ingrained sense of culture and subordination of the individual to the collective within the Marines prevents any opportunity to question the orders of their superiors. Jessep is more complicated than the quintessential cinematic villain; he repeatedly forces us to ask questions of the standards we expect from the military. Should the Marines be held to different standards in return for the sense of security they provide us with? Men like Jessep make unpleasant decisions every day, and we expect them to do so, so who are we to question their discretion? The answer Sorkin and Reiner provide us with is that, as Marines, we charge these men with the protection of humanity; the tools of accountability and limitations on autonomy are in place so that they do not lose their own sense of what that means.

Fall

2005-10-30T14:09:00.000-05:00

So yesterday at 9.30am, after a mere four hours kip, I roll myself out of bed and drag myself out into the chilly but beautifully clear D.C. morning and sluggishly crawl my way towards Dupont Circle to watch the Arsenal/Spurs game. On my way, despite the fog enveloping my sleep-deprived mind, I notice quite how charming the "fall", as tis called over here, really is. As you can see, the colours are really incredible.

This is an, umm, house in Georgetown. For those amonsgst you who are uninformed as to the true extent of the lavish wealth on display in Georgetown, compared to most of 'em, this is a small and somewhat muted residence.

Another picture, but more picturesque this time, of the great American phallus.

This one is of the Jefferson memorial which I finally got round to seeing yesterday. Someone who's paid more attention in class than me (not difficult I know) will, I'm sure be able to tell you why Jefferson was so deserving of such a mammoth monument.

Looooooooser

2005-10-26T20:13:00.000-04:00

One of the perks of going to school in the political hub of the Western World is that the place attracts somewhat more than its fair share of high profile political figures. Look who came to speak in Gaston Hall today:

John Kerry i.e. the guy that the majority of American voters believe is less capable of leading their country than this joker:

Oh dear. Did I accidentally put a picture of a monkey in place of one of George W. Bush, with the inference being that said President has little more value in the White House than a chimp? Guffaw. Guffaw. Guffaw. Am I original or what? That being said, you try a google image search for "chimp" and see how many results you get that include him. Also, why not try searching for Bush and see how many monkey pictures you get.

Anyway JK, who lives just down the road on O St. was here to talk about American foreign policy and the American exit strategy for Iraq. He didn't really have anything desperately insteresting to say but he seemed intelligent, coherent and genuine. Maybe that's why they didn't vote for him.

Georgetown.

2005-10-22T13:40:00.000-04:00

I've realised that despite being here for a couple of months, I have yet to show anyone any pictures of the University itself. It's an impressive looking campus with about as much history as the entire country. Sure beats the crap outta Sussex at least - oh yeah, and Sheffield as well.

Healy Hall. No idea what this building is actually for but it's quite impressive doncha reckon?

As you can see, the campus is quite green, although this was taken back when it was still sunny which it really isn't at the moment. The weather here is very confusing. Two weeks ago I was complaining that it was far too hot and then I come back from Pittsuburgh and it's Winter all of a sudden. Weird.

The "Multi Sports Facility" or "American Football pitch". This is where the Hoyas routinely get stuffed by many other bigger, faster, better teams. It is a somewhat tedious game so who really cares. I'll give you an explanation of what a "Hoya" is another time.

The Dahlgren Chapel and fountain in the square behind Healy Hall. The school is run by the Jesuits and apparently this is their doing. I'm not sure what a Jesuit is. I think they're like gremlins but nicer.

A random one this. I leant my camera to a girl called Elle, told her to go out and take me some photos and this is what she came up with: a gang of sailors waiting for a bus. Add your own amusing caption here.

New York, New York

2005-10-22T13:27:00.000-04:00

Although it was weeks ago that I was in NY, I thought I should post a couple of pics from my oh so brief, drunken jaunt in the apple. This one is a view from Central Park.

And this one is the John Lennon memorial mosaic in an area of Central Park called Strawberry Fields.

Vodka Pong

2005-10-19T20:21:00.000-04:00

This one takes some explaining. "Vodka Pong" is Katie's up-the-stakes adaptation of an American College drinking game known as Beer Pong or "Beirut". Two teams stand at either end of a table and attempt to throw a table-tennis ball into one of the opposition's goals, a triangle of cups with a small amount beer in each one. If successful the other team has to drink the contents of that cup. As drinking games go it's kinda shit, especially if you're a distinctly cack-handed basketball-player like me. If that's the case, instead of being a crrrrrazy rapid route to drunkenness it becomes a somewhat tedious trip towards sobriety. Appreciating this, and also looking to prove to the Yanks what a hardcore boozer she is, Katie thought the thing to do was substitute piss-weak American lager for something slightly stronger. Muuuuuch better.....

It's been a while.....

2005-10-18T17:13:00.000-04:00

Oh dear. My vision is blurry, I have an artificially inflated sense of self-esteem and the sun is still shining outside. Oh yeah, and for every three letters I type I have to delete two. Diagnosis: daytime drinking.

In my defence, I only went to the Lucky Bar to watch the Arsenal but (tragically) they have a $10 (which essentially means three pints) minimum spend policy. What is a man to do?

You see, my Tuesday afternoon off this week happily coincided with the Champions League games, so instead of diligently confining myself to the library for an extended study period - I have two mid-term exams next week - I toddled my way off to Dupont Circle and took refuge amongst D.C.'s expats Irish, English, German and Italian. And very glad I am that I did, as I watched a very solid win for my boys (reassuring after losing to West-bloody-Brom on Saturday) but one that only served to highlight quite how dependent we are on Henry. Pleeeeeeeease don't go to Madrid Thierry.

And in other news.......

Okay, so I haven't written much in a while and maybe the photos don't say as much as I thought they did. Here's a quick and distinctly haphazard run-down of recent events this side of the pond.

A few weeks ago I skipped my Thursday afternoon class and zoooooomed up to New York on the Greyhound where I met up with Ed and Kit for the evening. Proceeded to get nicely sozzled, kipped on the floor of their hostel, woke up with an horrific hangover and went and sat with the boys in Central Park to recover. Pictures to come.

Studying obscenely hard. Before any of you had even picked up a pen I had taken two mid-term exams. Still haven't got my U.S. Foreign Policy result back but snatched an 85 for Bureaucratic Politics (not as good as it sounds, they actually mark out of 100 here - I know someone who scored 100.5%. WTF?). Is that subject as dull as you think it is? Umm, yes.

As you may have read, I was up in Pittsburgh the weekend before last to stay with Chris. I was pleasantly surprised. With Pittsburgh being a steel town I had expected it to be an American equivalent of the grim grey-ness that is Sheffield. Actually it's much nicer and much greener. Although it does only have three taxis running an any given time which meant I speant the first two hours of my stay in the city waiting at the damn bus terminal. It was a fun weekend. UPitt students seem to be much less uptight than those of GU and don't all seem to think the sun shines out of their........ dad's wallets.

Last week was fairly quiet. The baseball playoffs have begun and I am a fan of this game so I've watched many a match from the comfort of my dorm lounge (not actually all that comfortable). During one of the infinite number of commercial interludes there was an advert that began "Tim Kaine opposes the death penalty. Even in extreme cases." An ad for the upcoming gubernatorial contest, my initial (and very naive) thought was that this Tim Kaine fella sounded like my kinda guy. Except this was not meant as promotion for the Democrat candidate but for his Republican opponent Jerry-"fry 'em, don't try 'em"-Kilgore. This my first real look at the use of negative advertising in US politics and i was not impressed. I'm not inclined to launch into a big ol' anti-death penalty rant but I fail to comprehend the meaning behind "an extreme case". Surely any murder trial is fairly extreme? Who's to say that one murder is worse than any other? Secondly, I struggle to understand a political system that could be simplified to such an extent that people will vote for (or against) one guy or another purely based on his policy on a single issue. The U.S. political system seems to me to be in a bit of a mess but are Americans really that dumb? Mebbe - mebbe not. Anyway, enough of that. Moving on....

Speaking of murders and other nasty things I saw today int he paper that D.C. has just announced its lowest murder figures for 40 years. That should prove reassuring to all of you who may or may not be aware that Washington used to be the gun-death capital of America. On a less positive note, last weekend saw a number of shootings in the NW quadrant of the city. And this is sposed to be the nice bit. I think i might stop walking around late at night with my headphones in.

I went to my first gig in D.C. last week. I've been suffering from live music withdrawal and had missed a few that I wanted to get to so I took a gamble on Anna Nalick at the 9:30 Club.
It was a lorra fun although musically good rather than great. She had laryngitis so performed an acoustic rather than rock set which I think was probably nicer than it would have been. She chatted a lot to the crowd, reprimanding an older couple for "making out" and making everyone sing Happy Birthday to one of the audience.

Umm, what else? I wrote the one essay I have for this term at the weekend: A two-thousand word-er examining the representations of bureaucratic theory in A Few Good Men. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn.

Okay, I'm done. I have a camera cable of my own now, so I'll throw some more pictures up soon.

Rock 'n' Roll

2005-10-10T18:02:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure if it really comes across how cool this is but it's a picture of a Don't Walk sign (i.e. a hand) with the middle two fingers covered in black tape so the general impression is of the "rock 'n' roll" hand gesture. Taken near notorious New York club CBGBs in Greenwich Village.

Capitol Building

2005-10-10T17:52:00.000-04:00

Where they lock up all the country's national politicians to keep them away fromt he real people. I'm sure I should know more about it but, well, I don't. Like most things wealthy and powerful in the U.S., it is very very big and very very white.

The United States Supreme Court.

2005-10-10T17:42:00.000-04:00

Impressive huh? This is the highest of high courts in the land, where nine justices sit and "interpret" the constitution. Can be held somewhat responsible for W. being President. The motto at the top reads: Equal Justice Under Law.

Taaaaaaaaake me out to the ball game......

2005-10-09T13:15:00.000-04:00

American rounders is really all this game is but I am, it has to be said, quite fond of it. This was taken at RFK stadium at the start of the game between the Washington Nationals and the New York Mets. Although fairly new to this game, as far as my understanding of it goes, the Nats' problem was that they couldn't hit the ball as hard or throw it as fast as most of the other teams. Bit like the Aussies really.

Who says Pittsburgh's the Pitts?

2005-10-09T02:27:00.000-04:00

An interesting evening it has to be said. Gotta love the Spice Cafe, Pittsburgh. It's not often that I get song dedicated to me (/us) but this evening, the marvellous reggae act Wisdom gave me and Chris a fine shout-out before going on to play a magical rendition of UB40'S "Red Red Wine". Lovin' it.

2005-10-08T22:27:00.000-04:00

Looking, umm, East, I believe, from Arlington National Cemetery. At the end of that big ol' road is the Lincoln Memorial, the pointy thing is the Washington Monument and if look really really closely you can see the Capitol building in the distance.

2005-10-08T22:25:00.000-04:00

Classic D.C. image this un. The reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln memorial with the Washington monument reflected in it. Bit of a cloudy day unfortunately but there haven't been many.

Ducks!

2005-10-08T22:19:00.000-04:00

Cute little quackers in front of the Lincoln memorial. Nuff said.

Katrina and the Waves (of charitable donations)

2005-09-23T12:13:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I should be ashamed of myself for submitting to the temptation to make such an obviously god-awful pun BUT... I do have a point.

Everywhere I go, especially on the Georgetown campus it seems, I'm getting some good-doer, guilt-trippingly trying to part me from the few dollars in my already very slim wallet.

Example #1. As I am buying a cup of tea.....

Coffee Shop Person, pointing at a small container of notes and change: "For every dollar you donate The Corp (American equivalent of the SU) will donate two."
Me: "Oh right. Umm. Okay. Where's the milk?" (Shuffles away, looking at my shoes, feeling every bit the tight, miserly bastard that the glare she is giving me indicates that she thinks I am.)

Example #2. As I am walking back to my room from class.

Typically preppy Georgetown girl, smiling gormlessly: Would you like to buy some beads for the victims of Hurricane Katrina?
Me: No.

Her stare practically burns burns through my back as I continue on and she presumably imagines me to have no soul, a heart of stone and to probably be a combination of Pol Pot, Scrooge and Lucifer himself.

There are numerous other instances of this type of event. There's always some sap sat out in the square trying to sell t-shirts or baseball tickets or brownies with half the proceeds apparently going to the Red Cross or some such organization.

Now, while you may suspect otherwise, it's not that I am the evil creature that these people whose advances I reject out of hand believe me to be. I have every sympathy for anyone caught up in this horrific disaster I really do. It must be horrific to have lost, not just everything you own, but relatives and friends as well.

However, America is supposed to be the wealthiest, most advanced country in the world and if George Bush and his evil crony bastards can source the millions/billions/trillions of dollars to invade any country it feels like on a whim, killing 2000+ American citizens and countless numbers of "liberated" Iraqis along the way, they sure as hell better be able to stump up the cash to look after the people of New Orleans and put their city back to together. Why should it be the responsibility of the American citizen to provide the cash out of his/her own pocket?

Having said that, I would be a fool to ignore the fact that Congress has indeed come up with many billions of $$$$$$$ for the relief effort. Is it enough? I have no idea. What does a city cost these days?

I'm not quite sure what the problem is. It may well come back to the historical American fear and mistrust of big, centralized rule (which itself, if my historical understanding is even close to accurate, stems from the dislike that they have of being governed by a powerful distant ruler and hence was partly why they kicked us Brits out in seventeen-seventy-something and can also be blamed for the Civil Way of eighteen-sixty-something), that don't have much faith in the Federal Government's ability to sort things out and believe that the funds will be lost/slowed down by the buraucratic process and the people that need it won't actually get it. Legitimate concern I spose. Giving to a recognized charitable organization I guess bypasses this.

Alternatively it could be that there is an inherent good spirit in the hearts of Americans and they have a need to feel like they're actually doing something tanglible and good themselves.

While this is very nice to see it still seems somewhat difficult to overcome the fact that it takes a big event like this to stimulate a one-off generosity in the people but when it comes to consistent backing of a social welfare system, the wealthy American elite are remarkably disinclined to support it. Higher taxes to fund social security, unemployment programs, healthcare? You've got to be kidding right? Why should they share their hard-earned wages with the useless, lazy, lower echelons of society?

I dunno, maybe I just resent being seen as an embodiment of evil but there are some things that just don't seem to fit. Poverty exists in America whether there's been a natural disaster or not. Giving to charity is not a long-term way of addressing the imbalance, even if it's a short-term way of addressing your guilt.

Kinda Funny

2005-09-23T12:08:00.000-04:00

Just received this one in two separate emails so thought it deserved pride of blog's place:

George Bush was asked at a press conference if
he had an opinion on Roe Vs Wade. He responded
that he didn't care either way how people
left New Orleans.

For those of you unfamiliar with Roe vs Wade.... Google it.

Latest article

2005-09-20T11:19:00.000-04:00

Once again I've gotten eloquent articulations into The Hoya's entertainment section. This week it's a review of an album that was released way back in June but they all count right. Click Redwalls Review for the review of the Redwalls.

The Pub

2005-09-19T20:12:00.000-04:00

I miss The Pub. In an abstract sense you understand, as opposed to any particular drinking hole.

I've been in America for a month as of tomorrow and I have yet to fully acclimatize to the social side of life at an American university. It's a Monday evening, early on in the term and I am at a complete loss as to how to fill my time. Ordinarily, back in good old Brighty the pub, with it's pool table, quiz machine, Guinness Extra Cold and delightfully moronic banter with the boys, would provide the perfect solution to such a problem. The library, its "quiet please" study room and Midnight-sodding-Mug coffee lounge, would not.

Before coming to Georgetown I did not envisage spending my nights in an IT lab watching downloaded episodes of last week's Neighbours but that, tragic as it sounds is what I'm doing. The alternative, which is to sit in my room and battle my way through Doris Graber's Mass Media and American Politics is even less appealing.

Weekend activities are, for the most part, equally as tedious. Largely involving treks around campus residences in the futile search for a house party worthy of note we occasionally step inside someone's house, accept a generously given red plastic cup (just like in the movies) of piss-weak lager and endure the drunken rantings (1/2 a shandy) of some preppy rich kid, embracing the novelty that we Brits provide.

I guess it's an age thing. In real terms I am typically only a year or so older than most of them but my drinking age is many times more than that. For me, drinking is a pleasurable activity in itself and not, as the majority of the kids here see it, as merely the vehicle to drunkenness. There is no room for the aforementioned drunken ramblings, inane wit and mutual ridicule; those things it seems, are left in the pub.

Published!

2005-09-14T19:18:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I haven't been as prolific at this blogging business as I had planned to be. Unfortunately my time seems to be taken up, far more than I would like, with matters of the academic variety.

I have, however, found time to begin writing for Georgetown's venerated publication The Hoya (which I previously slagged off on this very page) and last week a dream was realised (yeah right!) when my name appeared in lights (well, in print) in its entertainment section.

The cynical amongst you will doubtless take the position that my involvement is little more than a sneaky ploy to get my hands on free CDs and gig tickets.... I'm inclined to decline to comment o that one.

Anyway some kind sould has seen fit to publish my article online so click here to read my words of wisdom.

Work Hard, Play Hard, But Play By The Rules

2005-09-02T11:35:00.000-04:00

I am compelled to draw your attention to a recent feature in The Hoya - Georgetown's wannabe New York Times.

A 'How To' Guide For The Georgetown Social Scene.

These kids sure know how to have fun.....

Welcome to my blog...

2005-08-28T19:14:00.000-04:00

The first, I hope, of many posts detailing my year - or at least until I violate the conditions of my visa and get deported - at Georgetown University in Washington D.C. The sad truth is that the busier I am, and the more I do, the less I will write. If you catch me updating more than twice a week (even that seems a bit excessive) it means I will have been spending far too much time in front of this screen - you might wanna nudge me in the direction of some real human beings.

Hopefully it will be a vaguely amusing, irreverent take on all things Yank so if you think for a second that I'm becoming any less cynical and sarcastic, as you all know I am, I expect to be swiftly reprimanded via the reply function underneath.

Apparently a picture speaks a thousand words, and is a fuck of a lot quicker to write, so I will endeavour to take as many photos as possible and whack 'em on the blog. I have a nice one of some ducks in the reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial that I took yesterday...... *yawn*.