In need of a break from The Libertine, post-mining-ism, and minxy? Since in Orthodoxy we are in Great Lent, the 40 days of spiritual preparation for Holy Pascha, now would be an appropriate time for Philistines and faithful alike to pause and become re-invigorated by Divna and the Melodi Choir. Gospodi pomilui!
Playlist
Bless the Lord, O my Soul – Psalm 102: 1-22
Byzantine Chant (Liturgy of the Catechumens). Length: 5:23
Divna and the Melodi Choir – Bless the Lord, O my Soul, Psalm 102: 1-22, Byzantine Chant (Liturgy of the Catechumens):
Psalm 102:1-22
1. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and everything within me, bless his holy name.
2. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His rewards.
3. Who is merciful to all you transgressions, who heals all your diseases.
4. Who redeems your life from corruption, who crowns you with mercy and compassion.
5. Who satisfies your desire with good things, and your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
6. The Lord shows mercies and jugment to all who are wronged.
7. He made known His ways to Moses, the things He willed to the sons of Israel.
8. The Lord is compassionate and merciful; slow to anger, and abounding in mercy.
9. He will not become angry to the end, nor will he be wrathful forever.
10. He did not deal with us according to our transgressions.
11. For according to the height of heaven from earth, so the Lord reigns in mercy over those who fear him.
12. As far as the east is from the west, so He removes our transgressions from us.
13. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him.
14. For he knows how He formed us; He remembers we are dust.
15. As for man, his days are like grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourishes.
16. For the wind passes through it, and it shall not remain, and it shall no longer know its place.
17. But the mercy of the Lord is from age to age upon those who fear Him, and His righteousness upon children’s children.
18. To such as keep his covenant and remember his commandments, to do them.
19. The Lord prepared His throne in heaven, and His Kingdom rules over all.
20. Bless the Lord, all you His angels, mighty in strength, who do His word so as to hear the voice of His words.
21. Bless the Lord, all you His hosts, his ministers who do His will.
22. Bless the Lord, all his works; in all places of His dominion; Bless the Lord, O my soul.
The Creed
Divna and the Melodi Choir – The Creed:
The Creed
I believe in One God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible. And in One Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Only-begotten, begotten of the Father before all ages. Light of Light, true God of true God. Begotten, not created; of One Essence with the Father, by whom all things were made. Who for us and our salvation came down from heaven, and was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and became man. And He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered, and was buried. And on the third day He rose, according to the Scriptures, and ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father; and He shall come again with glory to judge the living and the dead. Whose kingdom shall have no end. And in the holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of Life, Who proceeds from the Father; Who with the Father and the Son together is worshiped and glorified; Who spoke by the prophets. In One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. I acknowledge on e baptism for the remission of sins. I look for the resurrection of the dead, and life of the world to come. Amen.
Where’s Christopher? See if you can find Christopher Hitchens among the libertines in the painting!
Christopher Hitchens is a lovable rogue. While he may claim that religion – especially Christianity – is the sink of iniquity and where all darkness lies, his spirited defense of it following the Muslim attacks against Christians in Malaysia for using the word “Allah” contradicts his self-parodying vituperations. Aside from his “mildly enjoyable relapses”, profligacy, rioting, and associations with society’s most disreputable elements – Gore Vidal, Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett and the ever annoying Sam Harris among others – Hitchens is nonetheless iconically, and maybe ironically, becoming one of journalism’s elder statesmen and representative of the establishment’s older virtues and gravitas. He has also been one of the Zeitgeist’s most consistent and prominent members to defend not just America, democracy, and the American military but even Christianity and Western Civilization itself from the liberals posing as barbarians at the gates. As Hitchens himself wrote about the increasingly vulgar, unstable, and waxingly rectangular – as opposed to Hitchens’s description of his waning “rotundity” – Gore Vidal:
For some years now, the old boy’s stock-in-trade has been that of the last Roman: the stoic eminence who with unclouded eyes foresees the coming end of the noble republic. Such an act doesn’t require a toga, but it does demand a bit of dignity.
While such sentiments and observations are devoted to the person of Gore Vidal, they could be just as applicable to the entire left in toto.It all makes you wonder that if it wasn’t for his obvious misanthropism, cynicism, misapprehension – or outright disbelief – of Christian forgiveness and redemption, the possibly no-little sense of shame for some – ok all – of the the actions he’s committed across the span of his 60 years of life, and his serial use of “pachydermatous”, if he may not have evolved into the right’s version of Gore Vidal – without the delusions – or the titanic literary, rhetorical, and intellectual bookend to the Great Steyn.
Or maybe he’s just condemned to having bikini waxes between shots of scotch and bouts of waterboarding in perpetuity as he devolves into a parodic Ancient Mariner himself.
As we all drain a glass of Glenlivet 21 to the Old Bean with a hearty cheer for his “effusions” and “relapses”, one thing is for certain, Mr. Hitchens has all the potential to become that dignified “last Roman” as he inevitably – in spite of himself – ages into dignity.
Below in the Charybdis and Scylla of The Tabs are a “pachydermatous” delight of all things Hitchens. Call it salubrious. Call it daring. Call if scandalous if you will. Or just simply call him for a shot of scotch, some cigarettes, and the chance to become a sexual footnote in his upcoming biography (purrrrrrrrrr tiger). A Better Hitchens details his humorous attempt to clean up and become a metrosexual. A Wetter Hitchens documents his waterboarding experience and if it qualifies as torture. Hitchens “In” is a copy of his outstanding Slate article supporting the Malaysian Christians’s right to use the word “Allah” while revealing some fascinating glimpses into his past – both secular and religious. Hitchens “Out” regurgitates the press of Hitchens’s self-outing in the inimitable style of Vox Populi. And finally Hitchens-spotting is a small collection of videos incorporating the great man in all of his “rotundity” (note: see if you agree with me that Hitchens seemed rather uncomfortable and out-of-place in the seminal Dawkins hatefest, The Four Horsemen). Enjoy!
There’s an entire micro-economy based on the pursuit of betterment. The author—58, full-figured, and ferocious in his consumption of cigarettes and scotch—agreed to test its limits, starting with the Executive De-Stress Treatment at a high-end spa.
by CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS
October 2007
Christopher Hitchens takes an unauthorized smoking break in a “Moor Mud Mask” at the Four Seasons Biltmore Resort, in Santa Barbara. Photographs by Art Streiber.
Insofar as we are able to be objective, here follows a brief physical review of the subject, Christopher Eric Hitchens, at the time of this writing enjoying his 59th summer. Obstacles to the continuance of such enjoyment may be listed in no especial order as follows…
The subject has good genes on both sides of his family and has been mercilessly exploiting this inherited advantage for some decades. An initial review of his facial features, as glimpsed in the shaving mirror, reveals relatively few lines or wrinkles and only a respectable minimum of secondary or tertiary chins. However, this may be because the skin is so tightly stretched by the generally porpoise-like condition of the body when considered—which with a shudder it must be—as a whole. Moreover, the fabled blue eyes and long, curled eyelashes (for some years the toast of both sexes on five continents) are now somewhat obscured by the ravages of rosacea and blepharitis, which on certain days lend a flaky aspect to the picture and at other times give the regrettable impression of a visage that is actually crumbling to powder like a dandruffed scalp. It may be for this reason that the subject prefers to undertake the morning shave through a cloud of blue cigarette smoke that wreathes the scene in the fumes of illusion. (N.B.: This would not altogether account for the subject’s habit of smoking in the shower.)
The fanglike teeth are what is sometimes called “British”: sturdy, if unevenly spaced, and have turned an alarming shade of yellow and brown, attributable perhaps to strong coffee as well as to nicotine, Pinot Noir, and other potations.
Proceeding south and passing over an almost vanished neck that cannot bear the strain of a fastened top button or the constriction of a tie, we come to a thickly furred chest that, together with a layer of flab, allows the subject to face winter conditions with an almost ursine insouciance. The upper part of this chest, however, has slid deplorably down to the mezzanine floor, and it is our opinion that without his extraordinary genital endowment the subject would have a hard time finding the damn thing, let alone glimpsing it from above.
Matters are hardly improved on the lower slopes, which feature a somewhat grotesque combination of plump thighs and skinny shins, the arduous descent culminating in feet which are at once much too short and a good deal too chunky. This combination, of ratlike claws and pachydermatous-size insteps, causes the subject to be very cautious about where, and indeed when, he takes off his shoes. There have been unconfirmed reports of popular protest whenever and wherever he does this. Nor do his hands, at the same time very small and very puffy, give any support to the view that the human species does not have a common ancestor with the less advanced species of ape. The nails on the hands are gnawed, and the nails on the feet are claw-like and beginning to curl in a Howard Hughes fashion (perhaps because the subject displays such a marked reluctance to involve himself in any activity that may involve bending).
Viewed from the front when clothed, the subject resembles a burst horsehair sofa cushion or (in the opinion of one of us) a condom hastily stuffed with an old sock. The side perspective is that of an avocado pear and, on certain mornings, an avocado pear that retains nothing of nutritious value but its tinge of alligator green. (N.B.: The bumps and scales of this famous delicacy are sometimes visible and palpable as well.) Of the rear view, all that need be said is that it conforms to the preceding, though with considerably less excuse as well as with mercifully less fur. Seen from directly above, the subject has a little more protective cover than some males of his age, but this threatens to become a pile of tobacco-colored strands clumsily coated onto an admittedly large skull. At all times, the subject gives off a scent that resembles that of an illegal assembly, either of people or of materials, in the hog wallows of Tennessee or in the more remote and primitive islands of Scotland. He becomes defensive, and sometimes aggressive, when asked about the source of this effluvium. It is considered by me, and by the rest of this committee, and by the subject’s few remaining friends and surviving family, a medical mystery that he can still perform what he persists in referring to as his “job.”
Initial Response of Subject
Well, I mean to say, I don’t consider myself especially vain, but it was something of a shocker and a facer to read all that at once. I’d noticed a touch of decline here and there, but one puts these things down to Anno Domini and the acquirement of seniority. A bit of a stomach gives a chap a position in society. A glass of refreshment, in my view, never hurt anybody. This walking business is overrated: I mastered the art of doing it when I was quite small, and in any case, what are taxis for? Smoking is a vice, I will admit, but one has to have a hobby. Nonetheless, when my friends at this magazine formed up and said they would pay good money to stop having to look at me in my current shape, I agreed to a course of rehabilitation. There now exists a whole micro-economy dedicated to the proposition that a makeover is feasible, or in other words to disprove Scott Fitzgerald’s dictum that there are no second acts in American lives. Objectives: to drop down from the current 185 pounds, to improve the “tone” of the skin and muscles, to wheeze less, to enhance the hunched and round-shouldered posture, to give some thought to the hair and fur questions (more emphasis perhaps in the right places and less in the wrong ones), to sharpen up the tailoring, to lessen the booze intake, and to make the smile, which currently looks like a handful of mixed nuts, a little less scary to children.
Step One was for me to be dispatched to a spa. We chose one of the very best: the Four Seasons Biltmore Resort, in Santa Barbara, California. Air like wine, gorgeous beaches, lush vegetation, and a legendary hotel with the nicest staff imaginable. The friendly people at the fitness clinic took one look at me and decided, first, on the “Executive Distress Treatment.” At least, that’s what my disordered senses told me they had recommended. However, it turned out to be the Executive De-Stress Treatment, during which I was massaged with hot stones all along my neck and back by a young lady who didn’t turn a hair when she got to Step Two, which was “reflexology” applied to my leprous and scaly upper and lower paws. I can’t give you a very comprehensive account of this, because it had the effect of making me fall into a refreshing sleep. I woke briefly from blissful repose to find a new female face taking the second shift, which was a Gentlemen’s Facial, involving hot towels enveloping the features, followed by a treatment with “non-perfumed and non-greasy lotions.” Off I went again to sleep, and came round to find myself alone, like a pink salmon on a slab, with “Greensleeves” playing softly on the stereo. I’m bound to say I don’t usually wake up feeling this good.
I should then, of course, have discovered that I was locked in and that my evening meal of oatmeal, prunes, and mineral water would shortly be served. But, no, I was free to go. Now, I don’t know about you, but with me a feeling of fitness and well-being always lends extra zest to the cocktail hour. And what’s a cocktail without a smoke? And what else gives you a better appetite for dinner? The Bella Vista restaurant at the Biltmore is justly renowned, and I thought that perhaps if I tried the tasting menu Chef Martin Frost had prepared for me, with just a little morsel for each course … And a meal without wine is like a day without sunshine, as they say in France. And so the long night wore on agreeably enough.
In the morning, none too early, I descended to the beach to begin my program of yoga stretching. It was not thought advisable that I do this by myself—muscles become like mussels at my stage of life, and if not stretched carefully will either lose their elasticity or else snap with a sudden “pop” that I have already once, and disconcertingly, heard as I made the mistake of running for the phone. (Why did I do that?) I thus had the exhausting experience of watching my yoga instructor, the divine Madeline McCuskey, as she showed me the moves. Even regarding her in this way was a workout of a kind. Not to be outdone by some tempestuous and tawny Californian, I attempted to balance and extend myself in the same way, only to find that I was seized by the sensation that I might die or go mad at any moment.
I attempted to balance and extend myself in the same way, only to find that I was seized by the sensation that I might die or go mad at any moment - Christopher Hitchens
I was soon back at the spa, this time for a more rigorous detoxifying experience. A different young lady painted me a more delicate shade of green than my usual coloring in the a.m. and then slowly wrapped me in foil and linen. This was less like being a salmon on a slab, more like being a steamed Chilean sea bass in the hands of a capable sous-chef. I was told, as the heat built up in the seaweed, that the natural green came from marine algae that were very rich in nutrients and that the coating would “draw toxins” out of my system, as well as revitalize my muscles and generally relieve tension. This time I stayed awake, felt my pores opening all right and even briefly heard them screaming, suppressed the feeling that I was about to be garnished, or served on a bed of arugula with a lemon wedge in my mouth, and realized that it had been quite a long time since I had had a smoke or a drink. This was surely progress in itself! A greatly daring session on the treadmill and with the weights was to follow, and by the time that was over I felt that I had really earned my lunch, into which I tucked with a gusto of browsing and sluicing that still had a vague feeling of conscience lurking behind it. I then punished myself by booking an 80-minute Fitness Scrub and Massage, this time to be administered by a grown man, where I was pitilessly raked with almond meal and subsequently endured a serious pummeling and probing that identified my sloped and hunched shoulders as the main source of my generally sorry posture.
The trouble with bad habits is that they are mutually reinforcing. And, just as a bank won’t lend you money unless you are too rich to need it, exercise is a pastime only for those who are already slender and physically fit. It just isn’t so much fun when you have a marked tendency to wheeze and throw up, and a cannonball of a belly sloshing around inside the baggy garments. In my case, most of my bad habits are connected with the only way I know to make a living. In order to keep reading and writing, I need the junky energy that scotch can provide, and the intense short-term concentration that nicotine can help supply. To be crouched over a book or a keyboard, with these conditions of mingled reverie and alertness, is my highest happiness. (Upon having visited the doctor, Jean-Paul Sartre was offered the following alternative: Give up cigarettes and carry on into a quiet old age and a normal death, or keep smoking and have his toes cut off. Then his feet. Then his legs. Assessing his prospects, Sartre told Simone de Beauvoir he “wanted to think it over.” He actually did retire his gaspers, but only briefly. Later that year, asked to name the most important thing in his life, he replied, “Everything. Living. Smoking.”)
Thus I soon evolved a routine at the Biltmore. A facial, followed by a cocktail and a well-chosen lunch, succeeded by a nap, followed by a brief workout, followed by a massage or wrap, some reading and writing, and then a thoughtfully selected dinner. The rooms and public areas didn’t permit smoking, but room service was able to reach my ashtray-furnished patio with creditable speed. I suppose one could easily enough add seaweed and algae and mud (and, on one occasion, another tincture of green in the shape of an Avocado-Citrus Body Wrap, which at least gave me a new and better way of looking like an overripe pear) to one’s list of regular addictions. It would be like going to confession in between an exhausting program of sins. You will be glad to hear, however, that I high-mindedly declined the Chardonnay-Clay Body Wrap: it savored too much of yet another method of taking in booze, through the pores. Instead, I opted for a punishing session on the Biltmore’s immaculate croquet lawn. As the dolphins and seals gamboled off the beach, and as Chef Frost wielded his skillet with never diminishing brilliance, I felt that I could be very content to go on leading this life, but that each detox only sharpened the appetite for further treats, and that, all things considered, I couldn’t afford the weight gain. I also had to admit what I have long secretly known, which is that I positively like stress, arrange to inflict it on myself, and sheer awkwardly away from anybody who tries to promise me a more soothed or relaxed existence. Bad habits have brought me this far: why change such a tried-and-true formula?
I also take the view that it’s a mistake to try to look younger than one is, and that the face in particular ought to be the register of a properly lived life. I don’t want to look as if I have been piloting the Concorde without a windshield, and I can’t imagine whom I would be fooling if I did. However, this did leave the kippered lungs and the grisly teeth, and the liver and various other viscera, leading a life of their own in a kind of balloon that annoyingly preceded me into the dining room. Who was to be boss here? Was it worth getting any new clothes until this question of mastery had been decided? If the war with my outer carapace was to be won, and I was to remain a decisive minister of the interior whose orders could expect to be obeyed, it was clear that the struggle would have to be carried to a new and higher level.
What more can be added to the debate over U.S. interrogation methods, and whether waterboarding is torture? Try firsthand experience. The author undergoes the controversial drowning technique, at the hands of men who once trained American soldiers to resist—not inflict—it.
by CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS
August 2008
Here is the most chilling way I can find of stating the matter. Until recently, “waterboarding” was something that Americans did to other Americans. It was inflicted, and endured, by those members of the Special Forces who underwent the advanced form of training known as sere (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape). In these harsh exercises, brave men and women were introduced to the sorts of barbarism that they might expect to meet at the hands of a lawless foe who disregarded the Geneva Conventions. But it was something that Americans were being trained to resist, not to inflict.
Exploring this narrow but deep distinction, on a gorgeous day last May I found myself deep in the hill country of western North Carolina, preparing to be surprised by a team of extremely hardened veterans who had confronted their country’s enemies in highly arduous terrain all over the world. They knew about everything from unarmed combat to enhanced interrogation and, in exchange for anonymity, were going to show me as nearly as possible what real waterboarding might be like.
It goes without saying that I knew I could stop the process at any time, and that when it was all over I would be released into happy daylight rather than returned to a darkened cell. But it’s been well said that cowards die many times before their deaths, and it was difficult for me to completely forget the clause in the contract of indemnification that I had signed. This document (written by one who knew) stated revealingly:
“Water boarding” is a potentially dangerous activity in which the participant can receive serious and permanent (physical, emotional and psychological) injuries and even death, including injuries and death due to the respiratory and neurological systems of the body.
As the agreement went on to say, there would be safeguards provided “during the ‘water boarding’ process, however, these measures may fail and even if they work properly they may not prevent Hitchens from experiencing serious injury or death.”
On the night before the encounter I got to sleep with what I thought was creditable ease, but woke early and knew at once that I wasn’t going back to any sort of doze or snooze. The first specialist I had approached with the scheme had asked my age on the telephone and when told what it was (I am 59) had laughed out loud and told me to forget it. Waterboarding is for Green Berets in training, or wiry young jihadists whose teeth can bite through the gristle of an old goat. It’s not for wheezing, paunchy scribblers. For my current “handlers” I had had to produce a doctor’s certificate assuring them that I did not have asthma, but I wondered whether I should tell them about the 15,000 cigarettes I had inhaled every year for the last several decades. I was feeling apprehensive, in other words, and beginning to wish I hadn’t given myself so long to think about it.
The author catches his breath after undergoing his first waterboarding session. Photographs by Gasper Tringale.
I have to be opaque about exactly where I was later that day, but there came a moment when, sitting on a porch outside a remote house at the end of a winding country road, I was very gently yet firmly grabbed from behind, pulled to my feet, pinioned by my wrists (which were then cuffed to a belt), and cut off from the sunlight by having a black hood pulled over my face. I was then turned around a few times, I presume to assist in disorienting me, and led over some crunchy gravel into a darkened room. Well, mainly darkened: there were some oddly spaced bright lights that came as pinpoints through my hood. And some weird music assaulted my ears. (I’m no judge of these things, but I wouldn’t have expected former Special Forces types to be so fond of New Age techno-disco.) The outside world seemed very suddenly very distant indeed.
Arms already lost to me, I wasn’t able to flail as I was pushed onto a sloping board and positioned with my head lower than my heart. (That’s the main point: the angle can be slight or steep.) Then my legs were lashed together so that the board and I were one single and trussed unit. Not to bore you with my phobias, but if I don’t have at least two pillows I wake up with acid reflux and mild sleep apnea, so even a merely supine position makes me uneasy. And, to tell you something I had been keeping from myself as well as from my new experimental friends, I do have a fear of drowning that comes from a bad childhood moment on the Isle of Wight, when I got out of my depth. As a boy reading the climactic torture scene of 1984, where what is in Room 101 is the worst thing in the world, I realize that somewhere in my version of that hideous chamber comes the moment when the wave washes over me. Not that that makes me special: I don’t know anyone who likes the idea of drowning. As mammals we may have originated in the ocean, but water has many ways of reminding us that when we are in it we are out of our element. In brief, when it comes to breathing, give me good old air every time.
You may have read by now the official lie about this treatment, which is that it “simulates” the feeling of drowning. This is not the case. You feel that you are drowning because you are drowning—or, rather, being drowned, albeit slowly and under controlled conditions and at the mercy (or otherwise) of those who are applying the pressure. The “board” is the instrument, not the method. You are not being boarded. You are being watered. This was very rapidly brought home to me when, on top of the hood, which still admitted a few flashes of random and worrying strobe light to my vision, three layers of enveloping towel were added. In this pregnant darkness, head downward, I waited for a while until I abruptly felt a slow cascade of water going up my nose. Determined to resist if only for the honor of my navy ancestors who had so often been in peril on the sea, I held my breath for a while and then had to exhale and—as you might expect—inhale in turn. The inhalation brought the damp cloths tight against my nostrils, as if a huge, wet paw had been suddenly and annihilatingly clamped over my face. Unable to determine whether I was breathing in or out, and flooded more with sheer panic than with mere water, I triggered the pre-arranged signal and felt the unbelievable relief of being pulled upright and having the soaking and stifling layers pulled off me. I find I don’t want to tell you how little time I lasted.
This is because I had read that Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, invariably referred to as the “mastermind” of the atrocities of September 11, 2001, had impressed his interrogators by holding out for upwards of two minutes before cracking. (By the way, this story is not confirmed. My North Carolina friends jeered at it. “Hell,” said one, “from what I heard they only washed his damn face before he babbled.”) But, hell, I thought in my turn, no Hitchens is going to do worse than that. Well, O.K., I admit I didn’t outdo him. And so then I said, with slightly more bravado than was justified, that I’d like to try it one more time. There was a paramedic present who checked my racing pulse and warned me about adrenaline rush. An interval was ordered, and then I felt the mask come down again. Steeling myself to remember what it had been like last time, and to learn from the previous panic attack, I fought down the first, and some of the second, wave of nausea and terror but soon found that I was an abject prisoner of my gag reflex. The interrogators would hardly have had time to ask me any questions, and I knew that I would quite readily have agreed to supply any answer. I still feel ashamed when I think about it. Also, in case it’s of interest, I have since woken up trying to push the bedcovers off my face, and if I do anything that makes me short of breath I find myself clawing at the air with a horrible sensation of smothering and claustrophobia. No doubt this will pass. As if detecting my misery and shame, one of my interrogators comfortingly said, “Any time is a long time when you’re breathing water.” I could have hugged him for saying so, and just then I was hit with a ghastly sense of the sadomasochistic dimension that underlies the relationship between the torturer and the tortured. I apply the Abraham Lincoln test for moral casuistry: “If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong.” Well, then, if waterboarding does not constitute torture, then there is no such thing as torture.
Hitchens is helped up after signaling for the waterboarding to stop.
I am somewhat proud of my ability to “keep my head,” as the saying goes, and to maintain presence of mind under trying circumstances. I was completely convinced that, when the water pressure had become intolerable, I had firmly uttered the pre-determined code word that would cause it to cease. But my interrogator told me that, rather to his surprise, I had not spoken a word. I had activated the “dead man’s handle” that signaled the onset of unconsciousness. So now I have to wonder about the role of false memory and delusion. What I do recall clearly, though, is a hard finger feeling for my solar plexus as the water was being poured. What was that for? “That’s to find out if you are trying to cheat, and timing your breathing to the doses. If you try that, we can outsmart you. We have all kinds of enhancements.” I was briefly embarrassed that I hadn’t earned or warranted these refinements, but it hit me yet again that this is certainly the language of torture.
Maybe I am being premature in phrasing it thus. Among the veterans there are at least two views on all this, which means in practice that there are two opinions on whether or not “waterboarding” constitutes torture. I have had some extremely serious conversations on the topic, with two groups of highly decent and serious men, and I think that both cases have to be stated at their strongest.
The team who agreed to give me a hard time in the woods of North Carolina belong to a highly honorable group. This group regards itself as out on the front line in defense of a society that is too spoiled and too ungrateful to appreciate those solid, underpaid volunteers who guard us while we sleep. These heroes stay on the ramparts at all hours and in all weather, and if they make a mistake they may be arraigned in order to scratch some domestic political itch. Faced with appalling enemies who make horror videos of torture and beheadings, they feel that they are the ones who confront denunciation in our press, and possible prosecution. As they have just tried to demonstrate to me, a man who has been waterboarded may well emerge from the experience a bit shaky, but he is in a mood to surrender the relevant information and is unmarked and undamaged and indeed ready for another bout in quite a short time. When contrasted to actual torture, waterboarding is more like foreplay. No thumbscrew, no pincers, no electrodes, no rack. Can one say this of those who have been captured by the tormentors and murderers of (say) Daniel Pearl? On this analysis, any call to indict the United States for torture is therefore a lame and diseased attempt to arrive at a moral equivalence between those who defend civilization and those who exploit its freedoms to hollow it out, and ultimately to bring it down. I myself do not trust anybody who does not clearly understand this viewpoint.
Against it, however, I call as my main witness Mr. Malcolm Nance. Mr. Nance is not what you call a bleeding heart. In fact, speaking of the coronary area, he has said that, in battlefield conditions, he “would personally cut bin Laden’s heart out with a plastic M.R.E. spoon.” He was to the fore on September 11, 2001, dealing with the burning nightmare in the debris of the Pentagon. He has been involved with the sere program since 1997. He speaks Arabic and has been on al-Qaeda’s tail since the early 1990s. His most recent book, The Terrorists of Iraq, is a highly potent analysis both of the jihadist threat in Mesopotamia and of the ways in which we have made its life easier. I passed one of the most dramatic evenings of my life listening to his cold but enraged denunciation of the adoption of waterboarding by the United States. The argument goes like this:
Waterboarding is a deliberate torture technique and has been prosecuted as such by our judicial arm when perpetrated by others.
If we allow it and justify it, we cannot complain if it is employed in the future by other regimes on captive U.S. citizens. It is a method of putting American prisoners in harm’s way.
It may be a means of extracting information, but it is also a means of extracting junk information. (Mr. Nance told me that he had heard of someone’s being compelled to confess that he was a hermaphrodite. I later had an awful twinge while wondering if I myself could have been “dunked” this far.) To put it briefly, even the C.I.A. sources for the Washington Post story on waterboarding conceded that the information they got out of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed was “not all of it reliable.” Just put a pencil line under that last phrase, or commit it to memory.
It opens a door that cannot be closed. Once you have posed the notorious “ticking bomb” question, and once you assume that you are in the right, what will you not do? Waterboarding not getting results fast enough? The terrorist’s clock still ticking? Well, then, bring on the thumbscrews and the pincers and the electrodes and the rack.
Masked by these arguments, there lurks another very penetrating point. Nance doubts very much that Khalid Sheikh Mohammed lasted that long under the water treatment (and I am pathetically pleased to hear it). It’s also quite thinkable, if he did, that he was trying to attain martyrdom at our hands. But even if he endured so long, and since the United States has in any case bragged that in fact he did, one of our worst enemies has now become one of the founders of something that will someday disturb your sleep as well as mine. To quote Nance:
Torture advocates hide behind the argument that an open discussion about specific American interrogation techniques will aid the enemy. Yet, convicted Al Qaeda members and innocent captives who were released to their host nations have already debriefed the world through hundreds of interviews, movies and documentaries on exactly what methods they were subjected to and how they endured. Our own missteps have created a cadre of highly experienced lecturers for Al Qaeda’s own virtual sere school for terrorists.
Which returns us to my starting point, about the distinction between training for something and training to resist it. One used to be told—and surely with truth—that the lethal fanatics of al-Qaeda were schooled to lie, and instructed to claim that they had been tortured and maltreated whether they had been tortured and maltreated or not. Did we notice what a frontier we had crossed when we admitted and even proclaimed that their stories might in fact be true? I had only a very slight encounter on that frontier, but I still wish that my experience were the only way in which the words “waterboard” and “American” could be mentioned in the same (gasping and sobbing) breath.
Now some Islamists want to prohibit non-Muslims from referring to God as Allah.
By Christopher Hitchens | 08 February 2010
Vandals in Malaysia splashed red paint on a statue of the Virgin Mary
In Malaysia last month, there was vicious rioting after high court judge Lau Bee Lan issued a ruling on the proper naming of God. A complaint had been lodged by Muslim groups that local Christians were using the word Allah in their services and publications. (In the Malay language, that happens to be the word for God, a term Christians find it hard to do without.) The high court finding was very narrowly drawn; it said that the Catholic Herald could say Allah in its Malay-language edition, provided that the paper was sold “only on church grounds and bearing the label FOR NON-MUSLIMS ONLY.” Even this restriction was too lenient for the Islamists. Several churches and convents have been firebombed and defaced, and the Malaysian government has publicly regretted the court’s decision. According to an Associated Press report, the authorities believe that “making Allah synonymous with god may confuse Muslims and ultimately mislead them into converting to Christianity.” The danger of this seems small—most of Malaysia’s 2.5 million Christians are ethnically Chinese or Indian, and indeed there is a slight but unmistakable racist tinge to the Malayan Muslim demand for an ethno-linguistic monopoly on the word for the deity.
This is interesting and alarming for several reasons. First, it is happening in one of the world’s most celebratedly “moderate” Muslim states. It seems very probable that the same sectarian intolerance will now spread to neighboring Indonesia, which has a language very similar to Malaysia’s in which the “G-word” is also Allah no matter which confession is employing it. This would add to the existing pressure being brought by Islamists in Indonesia to reduce the size and influence of the country’s Christian minority, as well as to make Islam an enforceable religion by means of sharia.
When speaking silkily to ignorant Western audiences, Muslim propagandists sometimes like to say reassuringly that we all—Christians, Jews, Muslims—worship the same God. We are all children of Abraham, blah blah blah. We are all “peoples of the book,” blah blah again. It is true that the Quran contains much material borrowed from the Pentateuch and the New Testament, but it is also true that it is widely considered to be authentic only when written or declaimed in Arabic. The Bahasa Malaysia and Bahasa Indonesia lingua franca contains many borrowings from Arabic, including the G-word, but this doesn’t stop its Christian speakers from being told that they can’t follow their own faith in their own tongue. This quite clearly negates the notion that Islam is universal, that it preaches brotherhood, that it is a “religion of peace,” blah blah blah. Instead, it shows a very calculated sectarianism, not entirely free of racial and national exclusivity at that, which proves that deep down the Islamists are not monotheists at all but believe that there are several gods, of whom theirs is naturally the best.
It won’t surprise you, I hope, to learn that I have been an expert on this for decades and took it in literally with my mother’s milk. My earliest years were spent in the island nation of Malta, that wonderful spot of earth between Libya and Sicily, with its capital, Valetta, perhaps the greatest Baroque and Renaissance city in Europe. Malta has a language of its own, which I used to speak in a boyish way. The Maltese tongue was once considered by some philologists to be descended from the speech of the Carthaginians, but by far its closest kinship is with the Arabic spoken in the Maghreb of Libya, Tunisia, and Morocco. It is the only Semitic language rendered in a Latin script, and, along with English, it is an official language of the country. Since Malta’s accession as the smallest member state, it is also an official language of the European Union. And in Maltese, the printed word for God is Alla, which means that when spoken by a priest, it sounds exactly the same.
This is made additionally interesting by the fact that Malta is probably the most Christian country in Europe, more observantly Catholic than Spain, Portugal, Ireland, or even Poland. It is studded with beautiful and ornate churches and was the site of one of the longest sieges ever mounted by the Ottoman Empire—a siege that eventually led to a Crusader victory. (They don’t call themselves the Knights of Malta for nothing.) When services are held in the vernacular, God is addressed as Alla.
It could well be that all this unsettling information has not yet reached the ears of the jihadists. But it now joins the long list of actual and potential confrontations, derived from the infinitely elastic list of matters about which Muslims award themselves the right to be aggrieved—and also the right to resort to violence. Who could have guessed that they wouldn’t notice until last year that there were non-Muslims speaking the same language as them? Who could have foreseen that within weeks of this startling discovery we would witness the usual dreary display of yelling crowds, snarling preachers, and smoldering buildings?
Arabic is a great language of literature and poetry, and derivations from it (such as algebra) are found in our own dictionaries as well as across the geography of Spain (Alhambra, Alcázar, etc.). You might think that Muslims would be flattered that Christians in Mediterranean Europe and Asia employ the Arabic word for the divine. (As presumably do the local atheists, maintaining stoutly that Allah is not great or does not exist.) But it seems that grim sectarianism now carries all before it. Perhaps our newsroom copy editors should begin to make the relevant adjustments so that mobs howling “Allahuh Akbar” are now translated as howling only that “Allah is great,” and people intoning “Insh’allah” are quoted as saying only “If Allah wills it,” rather than “If God wills it.” But if this change were ever adopted, you could make a sure bet that there would be rioting and burning and killing about that as well.
This self-outing isn’t exactly a jaw-dropping revelation. It may also explain an amount of Christopher Hitchens’s obsession with religious strictures on sexual behavior, to say nothing of his bizarre, quasi-Islamic vision of secular paradise provided in god is Not Great:
Which two ministers of Margaret Thatcher’s government had gay relations with the writer Christopher Hitchens while at Oxford? Since Hitchens’s extraordinary claim emerged this week, the louche figure, now 60, who has been married twice, has fended off all requests for further information…. For although he has always enjoyed a reputation as a womaniser, at Oxford Hitchens was known to be bisexual. According to one contemporary: ‘He had a reputation for being AC/DC and, although a Trot, he was fancied by quite a few gay Tories and moved in those circles.’
Let’s face it, it’s only a matter of time before Dawkins comes out too. All that incoherent rage against the Christian faith exhibited by the New Atheists doesn’t come from an intellectual or even a rational place. It wouldn’t surprise me if pictures of Hitchens dressed in Nazi regalia surfaced at some point in time either. Unlike Dawkins, Hitchens is a likable, if roguish, character, but sometimes he really appears to be more of a likable caricature.
Lady Caroline Lamb once described the rakish Lord Byron as “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.” She could have just as easily – and accurately – been describing Christopher Hitches. Ironically Lord Byron could have also been describing Hitchens when he wrote “She walks in beauty, like the night…”, thus perpetuating the Six Degrees of Christopher Hitchens that we are presently observing.
Until yesterday, Hitchens was most famous for his “principled” and “courageous” stand against the Dark Agers – i.e. Christians – who slavishly adhere to religious superstition and desire nothing more than to plunge Europe into another 500 years of witch hunts and stake burnings. While that would probably increase economic activity and lead Europe out of it’s current recession, it would do nothing to resurrect the enervated European psyche so shattered by its latest ennui: the dysfunctional Socialist leviathan. Maybe precisely because it belies its more virile 2oth Century doppelgangers of fascism and Communism – the former of which the continent’s elites perpetually and neurotically apologize for while obliquely referencing the United States as its most menacing reincarnation – European leftists have self-loathingly ossified into either misanthropic, post-European, cultural nihilists or unenthusiastic solons of post-modernism.
Somewhere in this milieu resides our Christopher. A Trotskyite in his university days before becoming a disaffected leftist in his adulthood, Mr. Hitchens is now a self-avowed secular humanist and vociferous anti-theist who claims the mantle of Defender of the Age of Enlightenment by arguing that the concept of God is a totalitarian belief that destroys individual liberty and that the idea of religion should be replaced by science and freedom of expression – provided that the latter is not expressly religious. One peculiarity of such sanctimonious caricatures – and moral hypocrites – as Hitchens is that their commitment to anti-theism is not so much a conscientious philosophical allegiance based on reason but rather an allegiance based on convenience and cynically – and stridently – evinced to defend their lifestyles.
But if Hitchens has been proven correct about the verisimilitude of science – global warming clearly establishes that science is beyond reproach as the progenitor of truth, ethics, and civilization – than Hitchens must be correct about God being bad. But while God is bad to Christopher; tasty young Tories from gay Oxford are “the greatest good”. Hearkening to the truism that no publicity is bad publicity, Hitchens “outs” himself by claiming – like those precocious, sexually ambiguous Pashtuns do – of “mixing green and black tea” with two male Tories while attending Oxford.
“Alpha minds” throughout England are reeling at both the significance – those dalliances concerned future cabinet ministers in Margaret Thatcher’s government – and the entertainment of identifying those voluptuaries who “studied” with Hitchens in ways that have the appeal of meat-flavored ice cream for the rest of us.
But what is more disturbing than Hitchen’s “AC/DC-ing” is that in the Daily Mail story below, he’s actually quite a loser. When his unrequited lust for novelist Martin Amis – who is straight – went unfulfilled, Hitchens scored Martin’s manic-depressive sister instead – draw your own freudian-based conclusions there – and while pathetic, it’s unfortunately typical of his behavior as narrated throughout the article. As Lord Waldegrave mused, “It boggles the mind.” Indeed.
So who WERE the two Tory ministers who had gay flings with Christopher Hitchens at Oxford?
By Geoffrey Levy | o6 March 2010
Alpha minds in and around Westminster that normally grapple with issues such as the forthcoming election, the sinking pound and the war in Afghanistan, were turned this week towards a ticklish and wholly unexpected political mystery.
Which two ministers of Margaret Thatcher’s government had gay relations with the writer Christopher Hitchens while at Oxford?
Since Hitchens’s extraordinary claim emerged this week, the louche figure, now 60, who has been married twice, has fended off all requests for further information.
After all - even for a clever polemicist who takes his work very seriously - such a tantalising, if frivolous kiss-and-tell is bound to sell extra copies of his memoir Hitch-22 when it is published in the summer.
Christopher Hitchens at a literary party with Martin Amis and Tina Brown
But those who knew ‘Hitch’ in his Balliol College years, between 1967 and 1970, when he read Politics, Philosophy and Economics while simultaneously running amok as a rabid Trotskyist (he got a third-class degree, incidentally), have little doubt his claims are true.
For although he has always enjoyed a reputation as a womaniser, at Oxford Hitchens was known to be bisexual.
According to one contemporary: ‘He had a reputation for being AC/DC and, although a Trot, he was fancied by quite a few gay Tories and moved in those circles.’
Sometimes even The Playa makes mistakes. I work alot (I’m a welder) and when I get home in the morning (I work 3rd shift), in my rush to publish a post I sometimes misfire and publish a post that isn’t ready. Such was the case with The Libertine. So I pulled it, made some grammatical and syntax corrections, experimented with some different formats, and – without further adieu – am releasing it to a hushed and expectant world.
I humbly apologize to my adoring and sycophantic fans…all two of you.
To finish my beatdown trifecta on David Brooks, I’ve included some youTube videos that many of you at home could emulate in order to jump onto the “nurturing”, “service economy” band-wagon. Maybe Brooks, who’s the biggest proponent of this new economic reality, will give you a personalized tour of his New York Times cubicle in appreciation. As Virgil wrote in the Aeneid, “such service earns such gifts.”
Heavy industrial manufacturing and construction is so, like, old. Work that involves getting dirty, any kind of physical effort, or worse both – unless its for something important like modeling or acting – should be placed in the trash bin of history alongside such immoral and socially abhorrent concepts as slavery, child labor, and Communism. Fortunately for our advanced, nuanced societies, our intellectual class will lead us – like usual – to HeavenOnEarth ™ and a future replete with leisure, financial security, and happiness. It will be kind of like the Nazi Kraft durch Freude (Strength through Joy) campaign – but without the Nazis, strength, or joy. The following pages document the transition of the Western economy from the exploitative and oppressive industrial base of its sordid past to the vibrant and -yes “nurturing” – “Creative Economy” of today.
German coalminers in the Ruhr Valley at the end of World War II. Click here to enlarge image.
About two weeks ago, I wrote a post critical of the view that the majority of our elite class (mostly “moderates” and liberals) have of the American economy. Whether ensconced in ivory towers or cloistered in socially and intellectually isolated monasteries like the Washington Post and The Guardian, the elites hold a distinctively non-industrial, non-manufacturing, abstract-based, collectivist economic model as sacrosanct. In my post, I eviscerated the New York Times’s David Brooks, their “conservative” maven, for his hopey-changey/touchy-feely solution to solving our burgeoning unemployment rate by suggesting that men – the group most affected by the Obama recession – embrace “nurturing” and the new “service economy”.
Apparently the European elite class – those savants who have successfully plunged their continent into demographic, economic, and multicultural hell – concurs with Brooks as Der Spiegel published a simultaneously poignant and absurdly piquant article today on the painful transformation of Germany’s Ruhr Valley into a “Creative Economy” of tours, balloons, and “the longest table in the world” to compensate for the collapse of the area’s once vital coal industry.
“But the Ruhr region, with its postwar architecture, discount stores, allotment gardens and large numbers of lakes and hospitals, is also home to 275,000 unemployed. Only four out of 200 coalmines are still in operation, and in two years the German parliament, the Bundestag, will decide whether those few mines should also be shut down. Carmaker Opel expects to lay off 1,800 workers at its plant in Bochum, and the region is plagued by high levels of child poverty.
There are 53 cities in the region, which comprises an area of 4,435 square kilometers (1,711 square miles) between the Hamm and Wesel Rivers, and almost all of them face, or are about to face, budget shortfalls. As a result, cities have been forced to introduce austerity measures, such as lowering the water temperature in public swimming pools in Bochum and Duisburg, or mowing lawns in public parks less frequently in Oberhausen. This winter, not all communities provided snow removal services. Streetlights are being shut off, school renovations have been put on hold and youth programs have been cancelled. The city of Dortmund has determined that it will have to cut €80 million ($108 million) in costs each year for the foreseeable future, while the city of Oberhausen will end the year €1.8 billion in the red.” - from Der Spiegel
Who needs industry, construction, and heavy manufacturing when you have tours, balloons, and “the longest table in the world”? One Ruhr resident who reminisced about the region’s golden era between the early 1900s and the late 1960s stated that there were five elements that coalesced to permanently shape the Ruhr region’s mentality:
That work meant triumphing over the natural world under the most difficult of conditions — with the hands, not with the mind
That a rapid rise was followed by a rapid decline
That a person’s efforts were considered dispensable
That solidarity was critical to survival
That survival also depended on government support
I think the last point is the most telling. What is inferred is not the encouraging, benevolent hand of a freedom-and-liberty loving government but rather an intrusive nanny-state that dictates how people should live their lives in artificially constructed societies. As Elmar Weiler, vice-chancellor of the Ruhr University in Bochum and a winner of the Leibniz Prize awarded to top German researchers, blissfully observed:
“We are a global village. In our region, people from 140 religious communities and more than 100 nations are demonstrating how to live together peacefully.”
But with so many people now wanting a free lunch at the world’s longest table, even the local government’s fully laden People’s Horn of Cornucopia is running out, provoking Elmar – so compliant to the shibboleth of Europe’s political correctness – to complain that the “entrepreneurial spirit is not as prevalent among students here as it is in other parts of Germany”:
“They have a stronger sense of security,” he says. They have grown up with the collective experience that companies offer jobs and the government helps out in times of crisis. “We have few students,” says Weiler, “who say: I’ll just go ahead and do my thing, and I’m sure something will come of it.”
Many are the first members of their families to attend a university. They learn quickly and pragmatically, but they often have little experience with intellectual curiosity and the creative and chaotic flow of ideas. At the Ruhr University, says Weiler, students see it as a positive character trait when someone is not intellectually aloof. In a sense, he adds, their attitudes are anti-intellectual. - from Der Spiegel
Alexis de Toqueville wrote that
“But one also finds in the human heart a depraved taste for equality, which impels the weak to want to bring the strong down to their level, and which reduces men to preferring equality in servitude to inequality in freedom”
If the Germans desire equality in servitude, at least they will have it with balloons.
An absolutely incredible and moving performance of Chesnokov’s Gabriel Appeared by soloist Chernegov-Nomerov Egor and ensemble from Moscow’s P.I. Tchaikovsky Music Conservatory. Enjoy!
President Barack Obama and his muse Rahm Emanuel discuss “whacking” Gov. David Patterson.
Capo di tutti capi Barack Obama and consigliere Rahm Emanuel went to the mattresses yesterday and knee-capped the dim-witted Governor of New York, David Paterson. Not only did Paterson insolently ignore the numerous “suggestions” from the Syndicate’s coterie of associates at The New York Times to drop his gubernatorial bid and deferentially step aside for White House favorite Andrew Cuomo, but he had the temerity – audacity even – to disrespect The Boss by aggressively continuing to pursue his campaign despite the increasingly dire warnings emanating from Washington.
Instead of competently fulfilling his role as Obama’s New York factotum and graciously accepting the consolation prize for such a humiliating, but politically important, position – being allowed to complete his term as Governor and then perhaps becoming a “made man” by working in the Obama Administration – the seditious and overly ambitious Paterson was instead given the political equivalent of an execution and subsequent burial in the end zone of Giants Stadium. Of course to the caporegime at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, this was the appropriate and long-deserved punishment for not only Paterson’s disloyalty, but for his incompetence as his fecklessness was beginning to harm The Boss’s reputation throughout the Northeast. So not only has Paterson’s current political career been justifiably “executed”, but so were any future political aspirations – or fantasies – he may have entertained.
Why anyone is surprised by Paterson’s fall is beyond me as – like they would say in Goodfellas – who the hell did Paterson think he was f#*@ing with? You would think that after the “working over” Blago received from the Organization for attempting to extort The Boss, Paterson would have “gotten the message” and been appropriately obeisant and acutely attentive to Obama’severy whim and instruction. But no. Which proves he’s an idiot and deserved to get “whacked” by Emanuel’s goons at The New York Times.
Frankly, I’m not surprised that the Democratic Party’s official party newspaper would turn on an Obama-esque Governor like Paterson, with or without The Boss’s orders. What is surprising is how meekly they’ve submitted to their new White House master as even the pretense of journalistic integrity and independence has now completely evaporated…much like Paterson’s political career.
Following the publication of this post, I entered the Witness Protection Program and am currently hiding in an undisclosed, secure location with Dick Cheney. He says, “hi”.
Read the entire devolution of the Democratic Party’s Icarus who flew too close to the sun and subsequently fell to earth in a tragedy of Grecian proportions. The following tabs contain the smear campaign leveled against Gov. Paterson by the Syndicate’s associates at The New York Times. The crisis they allude to was ostensibly initiated by the Governor’s interference into a criminal accusation against a serial woman-beater who is not only on Paterson’s staff but is also his Rasputin. Unfortunately this sudden demonstration of morality by the left and the state-controlled media is unbelievable as everyone knows Democratic Senators and Congressmen do much worse on a weekly basis…usually daily…almost hourly…every minute…well, you get the point. The video tab contains an interesting video from two of The New York Times’s “cleaners” and a fascinating documentary on the history of the Democratic party. Enjoy!
David Paterson: used, discarded, and alone like an abondoned toy.
In the end, what was most striking was his isolation.
“You can’t trust what he says from one moment to the next,” former State Senator Martin Connor said of Gov. David A. Paterson.
As Gov. David A. Paterson drew the curtain Friday on his campaign, this charming and witty if elusive veteran of two and a half decades in politics found himself utterly alone, bereft of legislative allies or seasoned advisers who might guide him through a political storm of his own making.
Just two years ago, Mr. Paterson took office to laughter and applause from fellow legislators, who saw in him an antithesis to the perpetually raging Eliot Spitzer, who resigned after being caught patronizing a high-priced prostitution ring. Mr. Paterson took his place naturally in the Albany political hierarchy, as his father, Basil A. Paterson, was a duke in Harlem’s powerful Democratic machine and had served as New York’s secretary of state.
In 21 years in the State Senate, all during a time of Republican domination of that body, Mr. Paterson rarely was described as punctilious or a legislative craftsman. Friends offered that a life spent in the political minority perhaps gave him permission not to take himself too seriously. But he had a disarming sense of humor, and could talk about his profession with an almost out-of-body sense of clarity.
As governor, Mr. Paterson found himself sitting for the first time in the executive chair, wielding real power, but the crown did not rest easy. He proved a confounding political leader, those who worked with him said. He could be inattentive to others, yet acutely sensitive to slights; he could speak eloquently of Albany’s dysfunctions even as he dipped his hands in these same waters. And he picked fights with Democratic and labor chieftains even as he spoke plaintively of his desire to be liked. (“I’m a human being. I’m sensitive,” he told The New York Times in August 2008. “My feelings can be hurt.”)
His political friends watched, wondered and sometimes cringed. His contradictions did not cohere.
“He’s at the worst moment in his career and he’s totally alone,” said State Senator Diane J. Savino, a Staten Island Democrat who was recruited to run by Mr. Paterson. “Instead of asking for advice and counsel, he’s turned to an inner circle that’s gotten smaller and smaller.”
State Senator Eric Adams of Brooklyn said he repeatedly urged the governor to impose order on his staff and assert himself as the state’s most powerful political executive. “No one enjoys seeing him go down this road,” he said, “but his problems are almost self-mutilating.”
Mr. Paterson’s strengths and weaknesses long have been in taut balance.
His tenure as minority leader of the State Senate was notably chaotic, a fact obscured by the Democrats’ success in winning Senate seats during that time. An internal report commissioned by Mr. Paterson himself found that staff workers often had little idea where their boss was, and that he shied from imposing his authority, ruling instead by an ill-defined consensus. “He thrived when staff were fighting, as it took the spotlight off him,” said a former senior aide, who did not want to be identified to protect clients.
Former State Senator Martin Connor of Brooklyn served as minority leader until Mr. Paterson, who was his top deputy, deposed him in 2002 in a political coup. Mr. Connor has kept the letter that Mr. Paterson faxed him the morning of the coup, in which Mr. Paterson denied interest in replacing Mr. Connor and assured him of his loyalty.
“He’s witty and smart and he can quote things from floor debates 15 years ago,” Mr. Connor said. “But you can’t trust what he says from one moment to the next.”
This might be dismissed as the sour recollection of a man far removed from power. But colleagues say it fits a pattern. Mr. Paterson, for instance, has a peculiar affinity for issuing multiple endorsements, even in races in which he has encouraged one candidate to run.
Ms. Savino recalls being invited to lunch in early 2004 with Mr. Paterson. He urged her to run for the State Senate, and pledged the support of the state Democrats. Weeks later she found herself in a four-way primary.
“He was afraid of upsetting the other candidates because they also had reached out to him,” recalled Ms. Savino, who won anyway. “He wants so desperately to be liked.”
Mr. Paterson’s political instincts are a curious business. One on one, with a staff member, a reporter, or a lawmaker, his antennae are finely tuned, his style intimate. He’s a history buff; he likes to talk about books and politics. More than one legislator has left him assuming they have cemented a deal of some sort. But Mr. Paterson can forget these conversations ever happened.
This style rarely hurt him in the Senate minority, where the political stakes are trifling. But, as governor, Mr. Paterson’s seeming inconsistency has maddened the powerful Democratic Assembly leader Sheldon Silver, who has several times delivered public rebukes to the governor.
Mr. Adams, the state senator, speaks of his bafflement at an experienced politician who seems not to grasp that politics is about delivering services and about the trappings of power. He said he advised the new governor: Next time you’re in my district, in Park Slope or Crown Heights, call me and I’ll stand alongside you. It’s good for me and good for you.
Mr. Paterson agreed. Weeks later, the senator picked up a newspaper and saw a photograph of Mr. Paterson delivering a stimulus check in his district. Mr. Adams was furious and called the governor.
“I said, ‘David, what the heck is going on?’ and he said ‘Eric, I’m going to correct that,’ and then it happens again,” Mr. Adams said. “Why? That’s the $64 million question and I assure you that we all ask the same question.”
Mr. Paterson, too, tends to rely heavily on a single gatekeeper, or two, which for a chief executive is a dangerously narrow keyhole through which to view the political process. This haunted Mr. Paterson in his first months in office, as he moved swiftly, and with some resolve, to tackle the state’s mountainous budget problems.
He began by taking on the labor unions and advocacy groups that formed the bedrock of his political base. Jabbing at one’s base is a time-tested political move for many governors, and as long as he kept a back channel open, he might have pulled it off. But Mr. Paterson did not do this, say labor and legislative leaders, and when the unions responded with commercials attacking him, Mr. Paterson spoke of feeling unnerved.
“Once he experienced outright anger, he seemed genuinely hurt,” Ms. Savino said.
Nor did Mr. Paterson reach out to natural counterweights in the business community. “He’s constitutionally not as comfortable as an executive,” said a New York City business leader, who asked not to be identified because his organization lobbies the governor.
Some wonder if, in years to come, Mr. Paterson will argue this point. In his speech Friday, he listed many accomplishments. But only two years earlier, as he was plucked from the shadows of a lieutenant governor’s existence, he spoke of his challenge in disarming fashion: “I kind of feel like the student who’s getting ready for the final exam but they didn’t attend any classes.”
Under Fire, Paterson Ends His Campaign for Governor
By DANNY HAKIM and JEREMY W. PETERS | 26 FEBRUARY 2010
Gov. David Paterson’s political career joins Jimmy Hoffa’s Teamster one beneath the endzone at Giants Stadium.
Gov. David A. Paterson ended his campaign for election on Friday amid crumbling support from his party and an uproar over his administration’s intervention in a domestic violence case involving a close aide.
The announcement came less than a week after Mr. Paterson formally announced his candidacy.
The governor acknowledged that the episode involving his longtime aide David W. Johnson had become a distraction, but he vowed to serve out the remaining 308 days of his term and remain focused on his work.
“There are times in politics when you have to know not to strive for service, but to step back, and that moment has come for me,” Mr. Paterson told a room full of reporters in an afternoon news conference.
In the most dramatic moment, the governor raised his right hand and offered what he called a “personal oath,” stressing that he had not abused his power in his response to the domestic violence case.
“I have never abused my office, not now, not ever,” said Mr. Paterson, his wife, Michelle Paige Paterson, by his side.
“I believe that when the facts are reviewed, the truth will prevail,” he added.
Even as the governor was speaking, however, new calls emerged for him to resign, amid a criminal investigation by the office of Attorney General Andrew M. Cuomo. Moments after the governor’s news conference ended, the New York City comptroller, John C. Liu, became the latest fellow Democrat to call for the governor to step down.
And some Democrats expressed skepticism that the politically wounded Mr. Paterson could effectively lead a state facing a deficit of more than $8 billion.
The White House, which had tried to nudge Mr. Paterson out of the race, said he was right to end his candidacy. The reports of his administration’s intervention in the domestic abuse case were “disturbing,” said Robert Gibbs, the White House press secretary.
“Anybody that read these articles believes at a minimum he made the right decision about his re-election,” Mr. Gibbs said.
State Democrats were moving to anoint Mr. Cuomo, who has been quietly preparing his own campaign for governor, as their candidate.
The governor’s withdrawal came less than two days after The New York Times reported that his administration had intervened in the episode involving Mr. Johnson, 37, who was accused by a longtime companion of assaulting her on Halloween.
The woman was twice granted a temporary order of protection against Mr. Johnson, but she complained in court that the State Police had been harassing her to drop the matter. In addition, the governor talked to the woman himself only a day before she was scheduled to appear in court to seek a final order of protection. She failed to show up for that appearance, and the case was dropped. The woman, saying she fears retaliation, has requested that her identity be withheld.
The governor initially seemed to believe that his campaign could survive the revelations and was seemingly undisturbed for most of Thursday, even as prominent Democrats publicly questioned his political prospects.
He attended two private lunches with donors in Manhattan, at the Four Seasons and the Bryant Park Grill.
But after he returned to his campaign office about 3:30 p.m., his political advisers gave him bad news: they had been canvassing Democrats about whether the campaign should continue, and they found that support for the governor was evaporating.
Some elected officials who had agreed to attend a big homecoming rally, planned for Saturday in Harlem, expressed wariness about appearing.
“It made no political sense to move forward with that kind of announcement in light of the allegations,” said Assemblyman Daniel J. O’Donnell, a Democrat who represents the Upper West Side.
“It really would be unfair to people who have been loyal to the governor to put them in a position like that,” he said, adding, “It was over.”
The governor and his advisers had also become unnerved because the Rev. Al Sharpton, who had been gradually moving away from his embrace of Mr. Paterson’s candidacy, was organizing a major meeting of black political leaders at Sylvia’s in Harlem on Saturday to discuss the governor’s situation.
On Thursday afternoon, the governor and his campaign manager, Richard Fife, began a conversation about his options. About 90 minutes later, they were joined by Jay Jacobs, the state party chairman and a key Paterson ally. Sitting around a conference table in the campaign office, which overlooks Park Avenue, as a snowstorm whirled outside, the governor listened to Mr. Jacobs explain why the race was unwinnable. Perhaps most significant, Mr. Jacobs said it would be extremely difficult for Mr. Paterson to win the 25 percent of delegates needed at the state party convention in May to secure a place on the primary ballot.
After Mr. Jacobs finished speaking, about 5:20, the governor agreed and said he would quit the race.
“It was becoming much bigger and more complicated than could be overcome,” Mr. Jacobs said later. “He said that he agreed. It didn’t require any great lift on my part. He didn’t seem resigned, dejected. He seemed resolute and confident.”
The governor thanked Mr. Jacobs and said he needed a day to call supporters and friends to let them know he would be ending his campaign.
Mr. Paterson then held a brief news conference, telling reporters that he was still a candidate.
He spent the evening and the next morning calling key personal and political supporters, including his father, Basil A. Paterson, former New York secretary of state; Representative Charles B. Rangel of Manhattan; andGeorge Gresham, the leader of the powerful union of hospital workers, 1199 S.E.I.U.
Some old friends told him that he should consider going further. Minutes after his announcement on Friday, the governor called Edward I. Koch, the former mayor of New York City.
“I said I think you should resign,” Mr. Koch recalled of the conversation.
“They’re going to play with you like a dog with a bone, and it won’t be any fun,” he told the governor. “There won’t be any satisfaction, you won’t have any clout and it’ll be agonizing.”
“He said thank you, and that was all,” Mr. Koch said.
Later in the day, the governor called Kathryn S. Wylde, president and chief executive of the Partnership for New York City, a nonprofit group of business executives.
“I asked him if he felt that he had been railroaded out or if he got tired of it, and he said, ‘I just got tired of it,’ “ she recalled. “Then he said, ‘It’s like I’m standing in front of the mirror thinking is there a reason for why I take all this abuse, and that it’s mostly coming from the Democrats.’ “
Mr. Paterson, who is 55, came to office in March 2008 after his predecessor,Eliot Spitzer, resigned amid a prostitution scandal. Before becoming lieutenant governor in January 2007, he served for two decades as a state senator from Harlem, rising to become the leader of the Democratic caucus when it was still the minority.
Mr. Paterson had about $3 million on hand for his campaign, according to a finance report filed last month. Mr. Fife, his campaign manager, said Friday that no decision had been made about whether the money would be returned to donors.
Some Democrats are urging Mr. Paterson to turn over many or all of his duties to Richard Ravitch, the lieutenant governor, a seasoned public servant who once led the Metropolitan Transportation Authority. Mr. Ravitch has been working for months on a multiyear fiscal plan that is likely to be released in the next couple of weeks.
“Obviously, I want to be as helpful as I possibly can,” said Mr. Ravitch, who was working on his fiscal plan on Friday afternoon as Mr. Paterson was preparing to announce his withdrawal from the governor’s race. “People have been waiting for me to come up with my ideas, and I’ve been trying to finish that. I’ll be working all weekend on that.”
Asked about the governor’s predicament, he said, “At some level you have to feel sad.” But, he added, the administration needed to focus on “problems with the government and the budget that have to be addressed.”
Mr. Paterson’s advisers, meanwhile, privately pressed legislative leaders to agree to a public meeting with him on Tuesday to send a message to New Yorkers that he was back at work, and serious about fixing the budget.
“There are 308 days left in my term,” he said. “I will serve every one of them fighting for the people of the State of New York.”
The White House manipulating the New York gubernatorial election. Andrew Cuomo is 2nd from left.
For months, Andrew M. Cuomo has silently inhabited a world of grand assumptions: that he was by far the strongest Democrat to run for governor of New York; that his poll numbers were not merely overwhelming but durable; that his fund-raising prowess would turn his inevitable campaign into a juggernaut.
Those assumptions excited a lot of people, if for no other reason than that they made him seem an infinitely more attractive candidate than the man who happened to be occupying the governor’s office.
Now that Gov. David A. Paterson has abandoned his campaign, however, all those assumptions about Mr. Cuomo — not to mention his record — will be scrutinized and challenged, if and when he does what everyone expects he will in a matter of weeks: quickly wrap up his investigation of Mr. Paterson and officially enter the race.
But Mr. Cuomo, 52, is more than just a poll choice, or the payee on the checks of campaign contributors.
In three decades of public life, including two prior statewide races, he has grappled with how to present himself, and how much to change: whether to be more humble, or less contentious; how to calibrate his legendary aggressiveness to suit a shifting political climate; when to leap to the attack and when to lay low.
On Friday, as Democrats began falling into line behind him, Mr. Cuomo’s supporters pointed to late March or early April as the likeliest moment for him to declare his candidacy. Mr. Cuomo signaled that he would not be hurried into the fray.
“It is in the best interests of all New Yorkers that the state government function through this difficult time and address the pressing budgetary problems we face,” he said in a statement. “This is an election year and I will announce my plans at the appropriate time. In the meantime, I will continue to focus on my job as attorney general and the many important issues we are pursuing.”
Until now, the focus on a potential primary with Mr. Paterson has allowed Mr. Cuomo to skirt questions about the race for governor by saying he was focusing on his job. Attorneys general, after all, do not draft budgets or seek givebacks from union leaders.
“Could you blame him for being coy, and not being available to the press on every issue, on things that aren’t in the purview of the A.G.?” asked the publicist Ken Sunshine, a close friend and longtime Democratic insider. “Obviously he’ll have to start talking about that, and he will. But he doesn’t need to go to school to learn how.”
Mr. Cuomo got his political education managing the campaigns of his father, former Gov.Mario M. Cuomo, while still in his 20s — a precocious age at which to earn the nickname “Prince of Darkness.” Later, he built housing for the homeless, then rose to Secretary of Housing and Urban Development in the Clinton administration, becoming a confidant of Vice President Al Gore’s.
After Mr. Gore’s 2000 presidential defeat, Mr. Cuomo returned to New York and mounted an ill-advised gubernatorial primary campaign against the widely favored H. Carl McCall, who would have been New York’s first black chief executive. The Democratic establishment united against Mr. Cuomo and he withdrew to avoid a crushing defeat. Mr. Cuomo also showed a capacity for doing damage to himself, as when he derided Gov.George E. Pataki as having merely held Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani’s coat after the Sept. 11 attacks.
In defeat, and after a messy and embarrassing divorce a year later from Kerry Kennedy, Mr. Cuomo showed a capacity not just for rehabilitation, his admirers say, but for evolution. As a candidate for attorney general in 2006, he seldom took the bait dangled before him by opponents who hoped to trigger an uncalculated Cuomo eruption.
Once elected, he reached out to Democrats and to New Yorkers statewide with self-deprecating jokes about his youthful hubris. And as the state’s top law enforcement officer, he managed the feat of grabbing daily headlines without making himself the story. He shunned expansive interviews, though he would speak off the record for hours. NY1 News, the cable-TV channel, taunted him with a “Cuomo clock” showing how long it had been since he appeared on its program “Inside City Hall.”
“He’s let his actions talk, and he’s really stayed in the background,” said Doug Muzzio, a professor at Baruch College’s School of Public Affairs.
Just how much Mr. Cuomo has matured as a candidate since 2006 remains to be seen, but Mr. Sunshine acknowledged that his war chest and poll numbers, and the degree to which he benefited from comparisons to Governor Paterson, had made for “enormously high expectations.” He added, “It’s a potential danger.”
Kenneth Sherrill, a political science professor at Hunter College, put it this way: “I’m not sure that God could live up to people’s expectations today.”
Whether he proves a Democratic deus ex machina or not, Mr. Cuomo will be unable to keep quiet for much longer. The presumed Republican nominee for governor, Rick A. Lazio, a former representative, has been trying unsuccessfully to draw him into a debate about issues, demanding to know Mr. Cuomo’s positions on budget deficits, taxes and Medicaid.
The prospect of a Democratic primary made Mr. Lazio seem to be getting slightly ahead of himself. But Mr. Paterson’s withdrawal creates a two-man race.
“He can ignore me all he wants. He just can’t ignore the people of New York,” Mr. Lazio said in an interview on Friday. “It’s very clever to not show your cards, not take positions on issues so you don’t alienate anybody. But the public is at a point where they want a candidate who will treat them with respect, by explaining where you are on the issues regardless of whether it does some political damage.
“Cuomo’s gotten bucketloads of money from some of the most powerful special interests that control Albany,” he said. “How are you going to take them on?”
Of course, Mr. Cuomo’s supporters say that even now, keeping his head down remains the most effective rebuttal to such attacks. While Mr. Lazio assails Mr. Cuomo’s tactics, Mr. Cuomo can continue to press his claims against bailed-out bank executives, gouging retailers, polluters and insider traders.
Behind the scenes, Mr. Cuomo’s advisers say he is likely to alter his message to donors and Democratic allies, who have grown exceedingly anxious in the wake of Republican gains and Mr. Paterson’s problems. Now, they say, he and his advisers can at least begin assuring jittery Democrats that the day they have been waiting for is nearing.
“You sort of see some running room now,” said one adviser, who insisted on anonymity in keeping with Mr. Cuomo’s below-the-radar posture. “There’ll be a not-so-subtle change in the discussion, from this whole ‘Stay cool’ approach to ‘O.K., guys and gals, let’s get ready for a campaign and hopefully we’ll have a candidate in the next month or so.’ ”
For Gov. David Patterson, the answer was “Andrew Cuomo”.
It’s not like David Paterson had a choice. His decision to give up on a bid for election to governor in his own right was a decision to scrap a campaign that had no real support and absolutely no chance of succeeding. The bottom had completely fallen out of his election bid, and the question now is whether the same is true about his governorship.
When you are the first black governor of New York and black elected officials and members of the clergy are gathering to light the path to your exit, you are in deep, deep trouble.
There are two immediate questions for voters: Why did the governor select David Johnson, a man with a troubled background and no demonstrated command of state government policies or practices (at one time he was the governor’s driver) to be his most powerful, most trusted adviser? And why, in the name of heaven, did people close to the governor, and perhaps even the governor himself, intervene to protect Mr. Johnson from an ugly domestic violence allegation?
These questions go to the heart of whether Mr. Paterson is suited to serve out the remaining 10 months of his term as governor. He is responsible for staffing his administration with the best people and for seeing that the great power of state government is used on behalf of the interests of ordinary New Yorkers, not as a club to protect his cronies.
Domestic violence was supposed to be an issue that Mr. Paterson knew something about. He was an advocate of tougher laws to protect victims and has not been shy about criticizing Hiram Monserrate, who was expelled from the State Senate after being convicted of misdemeanor assault for dragging his companion down an apartment building hallway.
The governor described the victim in that episode as “a classic case of a woman who was intimidated.”
But when Mr. Johnson was accused of attacking his longtime companion — stripping off most of her clothes, choking her, slamming her against a dresser, preventing her from calling for help — state officials raised a protective cordon around Mr. Johnson, not the alleged victim. Even as the frightened woman was seeking an order of protection from the courts, she was being urged by powerful state forces to drop the whole thing.
When she failed to show up in court just one day after a conversation with the governor himself, the charges against Mr. Johnson were thrown out.
There is something terribly wrong with this picture. For one thing, the case was a local police matter, but the woman complained to the court that the State Police had been harassing her, trying to get her to change her mind about seeking an order of protection and pursuing her case against Mr. Johnson.
The State Police? It turns out, according to sources cited by The Times on Friday, that Maj. Charles Day, the head of the governor’s own State Police security detail, personally contacted the woman. This is an outlandish abuse of State Police power. The police are supposed to be in the business of protecting crime victims — or alleged crime victims — not intimidating them.
The governor’s top criminal justice adviser, Denise O’Donnell, was not at all hazy about this. She quit the administration on Thursday, saying:
“The fact that the governor and members of the State Police have acknowledged direct contact with a woman who had filed for an order of protection against a senior member of the governor’s staff is a very serious matter. These actions are unacceptable regardless of their intent.”
Mr. Johnson was not arrested as a result of the woman’s complaint, which is not unusual. She alleged that he choked her, but choking is not a crime in New York unless there is evidence that the victim was injured. The charge raised against Mr. Johnson — and later dropped — was second degree harassment. That’s not even a misdemeanor. It’s a violation, the equivalent of a disorderly conduct charge.
But it was quite enough to get the big guns in state government rallying to Mr. Johnson’s side, and that should cause us to take a much closer look at people like Major Day, and the State Police superintendent, Harry Corbitt, who learned of the encounter between the woman and Mr. Johnson within 24 hours. He doesn’t seem to get that the State Police intervention was improper. Nor has he mastered the concept that cops are supposed to protect victims, not perps.
Mr. Paterson’s job now is to reassure the public that his overall judgment is sound and that he understands what was wrong about his behavior, Mr. Johnson’s behavior and the State Police’s behavior in the domestic violence case.
If he can’t do that, then he should hand the keys to the governor’s residence to the next in the line of succession, Lt. Gov. Richard Ravitch.
The Three Stooges: Toyota, the government, and the state-controlled media.
There are four things that get under The Playa’s skin, and that’s the Left, Islam, Big Business, and the State-controlled Media. Unfortunately, three of the four are involved in the Toyota fiasco. As a conservative, I have to admit that too many fellow conservatives have an instinctive tendency to support “Big Business” regardless of if its criticism is both valid and deserved. This tendency is only natural because the alternative – supporting (even obliquely) the Left’s economic collectivism or statism – is both naturally and philosophically repugnant to any constitutionalist and Hayekian sympathizer. A case in point is the Toyota recall scandal. Toyota was no doubt the victim of an “activist” and “anti-business” Obama Administration, but unlike the defense afforded it by the majority of conservatives, Toyota has no one else to blame for the opportunity they have given the Left to not only vigorously assault them; but the independent, non-State-owned automotive industry and – by allusion and association – capitalism as well.
Toyota recall timeline and the results of “Lean Manufacturing”. Graphic sourced from Reuters.
Currently, Toyota stands accused of “putting profits ahead of customer safety”, “pushing regulators to narrow the recalls’ scope”, and of engaging in a “cover up”. They did all of that and probably more. That’s the beautiful simplicity, elegant design, and audacious purpose of what is termed “Lean Manufacturing”, a manufacturing and marketing process invented and perfected by Toyota that is now all-the-rage among American manufacturers. If you study the various “efficiency systems” that have been invented over the last thirty years, one glaring fact is that they were never created by the people who are actually involved in manufacturing or building the “product” – whether automobiles, turbines, iPhones, etc. – rather they are, like most government endeavors, created and developed by intellectuals. So the industrial versions of Marx and Lenin actually created another impractical and utopian theoretical concept and – instead of calling it Socialism – called it “Lean Manufacturing”.
Factbox: The Official Definition of Lean Manufacturing
Lean manufacturing or lean production, which is often known simply as “Lean”, is a production practice that considers the expenditure of resources for any goal other than the creation of value for the end customer to be wasteful, and thus a target for elimination. Working from the perspective of the customer who consumes a product or service, “value” is defined as any action or process that a customer would be willing to pay for. Basically, lean is centered around creating more value with less work. Lean manufacturing is a generic process management philosophy derived mostly from the Toyota Production System (TPS) (hence the term Toyotism is also prevalent) and identified as “Lean” only in the 1990s. It is renowned for its focus on reduction of the original Toyota seven wastes to improve overall customer value, but there are varying perspectives on how this is best achieved. The steady growth of Toyota, from a small company to the world’s largest automaker, has focused attention on how it has achieved this.
I’m a welder for a large, multi-national corporation. I’m not an intellectual. I’m not a whiz-bang “Big Business” type with a wall full of degrees from prestigious business schools. I’m not even in management. I’m just a welder. And so my personal experiences with “Lean Manufacturing” are derived from the floor, having to utilize its key concepts on a daily basis, and seeing its endless litany of failures. Lean Manufacturing is obsessed with “continuous improvement” in regards to its processes and the elimination of all work deemed to be “non-value added”. The latter, in particular, is especially subjective as the manufacturer can – and does – assign that appellation to any particular labor and/or cost intensive processes that it desires to eliminate while never passing the savings of such “streamlining” on to the customer. Instead, any realized cost-savings are lost in the maintenance and further expansion of the Lean Manufacturing bureaucracy while labor – and consequently the product – suffer. So reduced to its essentials – minus the marketing gloss – Lean Manufacturing is a system predicated on charging the customer the maximum price while cutting services/quality/etc. to the barest minimum a customer will unknowingly accept. Since the client doesn’t see the manufacturing process, the client is consequently never made aware of the disconcerting levels of poor workmanship, quality, planning, managing, and lack of consideration for their “wants and needs”. This is particularly ironic as the entire stated purpose of lean production was to make the customer “Number One”.
Factbox: The Goals of Lean Manufacturing
The four goals of Lean manufacturing systems are to:
Improve quality: To stay competitive in today’s marketplace, a company must understand its customers’ wants and needs and design processes to meet their expectations and requirements.
Eliminate waste: Waste is any activity that consumes time, resources, or space but does not add any value to the product or service. There are seven types of waste:
Overproduction (occurs when production should have stopped)
Waiting (periods of inactivity)
Transport (unnecessary movement of materials)
Extra Processing (rework and reprocessing)
Inventory (excess inventory not directly required for current orders)
Motion (extra steps taken by employees because of inefficient layout)
Defects (do not conform to specifications or expectations)
Reduce time: Reducing the time it takes to finish an activity from start to finish is one of the most effective ways to eliminate waste and lower costs.
Reduce total costs: To minimize cost, a company must produce only to customer demand. Overproduction increases a company’s inventory costs because of storage needs.
And so it goes: the “continuous improvement”, “the Kaizen Bursts“, the 5-S, the “Idea Committees”, and the insipid stupidity that never resolves itself except through the smug technocratic fondness for process – not to mention the corporation’s fondness for profit – rather than people. Mr. Toyota stated in today’s Wall Street Journal that because of these disappointing lapses in quality and safety he will be “taking the company back to basics,” as “across Toyota, we are putting our customers, and the values on which our company was founded, front and center.” Unfortunately, until Toyota changes those very “basics”, it will never change the results and in several years he and the other Toyota execs will be back “front and center” before a familiar group of pontificating media-whores in Congress.
The more I see of Tiger Woods, the more I’m reminded of Barack Obama. The aloofness, the insincerity, the arrogance, the hypocrisy, the stiff and dissembling corporate mien that pervades everything he says. He’s no more trustworthy than Baghdad Bob was during the 2nd Gulf War or the old Soviet-era apparatchiks at Pravda were as they issued “unbiased” news dispatches from Moscow during Communism’s golden age (1945-1979). In fact, I don’t think Woods is so much a person as he is a corporate entity:
The Golfer Formerly Known as Tiger
And in that he’s no more amoral – or immoral – than AIG, General Motors, Goldman Sachs, CitiGroup, American Express, Enron, WorldCom, or the rest of American business – or government – for that matter.
Tiger Woods met President Barack Obama at the White House in April of 2009.
It would be easy to dismiss Wood’s foibles, as others have, as simply the excesses of another pampered, self-indulgent athlete. That would be mistaken. My issue with Woods isn’t his golf or his personal life, his golf is great and his marriage isn’t. Big deal. Rather Woods is symptomatic of an entire edifice that is corrupt and morally vacuous to its core. Beginning with his “false advertising”, Woods pretended to be something he wasn’t in order to secure the munificence of corporate sponsors who in turn marketed their companies on a non-existent wholesome image while knowing all along that Woods was a tool. The irony culminated in the burlesque of fundamentally unethical corporations attempting to camouflage their rapacious business cultures behind a celebrity whose own rapaciousness would uncomfortably come to symbolize their own. Fortunately for their own credibility, two companies – Nike and EA Sports – have stuck by their man, claiming that athletes are pseudo-divine beings who transcend morality, natural law, and the laws of physics.
It’s also ironic that almost every company who has utilized Woods as a spokesman has endured significant economic hardships during the recession, primarily because – like EA Sports and General Motors – of their exceptionally poor management. Those who are doing relatively well are companies like Nike, who pay their serfs next to nothing in overseas sweat shops and yet pay Woods millions of dollars per year to wear clothing manufactured by people he would be loathe to share a golf tip with because they are too poor to join his country club.
From the “scandal” of his slow-motion crash outside his Isleworth home, to the subsequent accusations of “coverup”, sordid revelations of infidelity, and the innuendo that his own darling little Valkyrie instigating the crash as he fled from her Viking fury and undisciplined golf swings; the enigma and incongruity of Woods’ annus horribilis 2009 continues into 2010. While his polished management company professionally prepared and crafted his speech, they apparently couldn’t convince Elin to appear beside her man in public; it doesn’t matter as his corporate suitors are more than willing to take her place.
Some Advice for Elin from Humiliated Spouses of Politicians:
Yet her absence – while striking – fittingly conformed to the surreal and artificial atmosphere pervading the entire event. As Tiger appeared from the ether in his tie-less ensemble – evoking a sophisticated demeanor while yet remaining “accessible” for the “average guy” we were told – the hand-picked audience looked doleful and mournful on cue, the carefully selected congregation of sympathetic journalists gasped and nodded as prompted, and the American public tuned in as expected. But where was the woman who was scorned? Where was the woman who was wronged? Where was the woman who was expected to stand by her man? Why she was here with her lawyer:
Meanwhile Elin, (also known as “The Other Woman”) has “taken Tiger back” as apparently living with only some of his millions wasn’t as good as living with all of his millions. Frankly, this entire sordid melodrama has proven several things:
That the elite really are different
That Elin really does deserve Tiger
That Corporate America really does deserve Tiger
That Tiger really does deserve Elin and Corporate America
That there really is such a thing as a “born-again Buddhist”:
And maybe, most importantly, that America deserves Tiger Woods.
The following tabs contain kernels of edification, and if not that at least morsels of entertainment. Enjoy reading the transcript of Tiger Woods’ apology, an editorial from The Orlando Sentinel’s Mike Bianchi that unfortunately captures the truth of the matter, and an interesting reaction to Woods’ scripted mea culpa by ESPN’s Bill Simmons. Enjoy!
Tiger Woods: “I was unfaithful. I had affairs. I cheated.”
Woods: “For all that I have done, I am so sorry.”
Woods: “The same boundaries that apply to everyone apply to me.”
Woods: “I do plan to return to golf one day. I just don’t know when that day will be.”
(CNN) — Good morning. And thank you for joining me.
Many of you in the room are my friends. Many of you in this room know me. Many of you have cheered for me, or worked with me, or supported me, and now, every one of you has good reason to be critical of me.
I want to say to each of you, simply, and directly, I am deeply sorry for my irresponsible and selfish behavior I engaged in.
I know people want to find out how I could be so selfish and so foolish. People want to know how I could have done these things to my wife, Elin, and to my children. And while I have always tried to be a private person, there are some things I want to say.
Elin and I have started the process of discussing the damage caused by my behavior. As she pointed out to me, my real apology to her will not come in the form of words. It will come from my behavior over time. We have a lot to discuss. However, what we say to each other will remain between the two of us.
I am also aware of the pain my behavior has caused to those of you in this room. I have let you down. I have let down my fans. For many of you, especially my friends, my behavior has been a personal disappointment. To those of you who work for me, I have let you down, personally and professionally. My behavior has caused considerable worry to my business partners.
To everyone involved in my foundation, including my staff, board of directors, sponsors, and most importantly, the young students we reach, our work is more important than ever. Thirteen years ago, my dad and I envisioned helping young people achieve their dreams through education. This work remains unchanged and will continue to grow. From the Learning Center students in Southern California, to the Earl Woods Scholars in Washington, D.C., millions of kids have changed their lives, and I am dedicated to making sure that continues.
But, still, I know I have severely disappointed all of you. I have made you question who I am and how I have done the things I did. I am embarrassed that I have put you in this position. For all that I have done, I am so sorry. I have a lot to atone for.
But there is one issue I really want to discuss. Some people have speculated that Elin somehow hurt or attacked me on Thanksgiving night. It angers me that people would fabricate a story like that. She never hit me that night or any other night. There has never been an episode of domestic violence in our marriage. Ever.
Elin has shown enormous grace and poise throughout this ordeal. Elin deserves praise, not blame. The issue involved here was my repeated irresponsible behavior. I was unfaithful. I had affairs. I cheated. What I did is not acceptable. And I am the only person to blame. I stopped living by the core values that I was taught to believe in.
I knew my actions were wrong. But I convinced myself that normal rules didn’t apply. I never thought about who I was hurting. Instead, I thought only about myself. I ran straight through the boundaries that a married couple should live by. I thought I could get away with whatever I wanted to. I felt that I had worked hard my entire life and deserved to enjoy all the temptations around me. I felt I was entitled. Thanks to money and fame, I didn’t have far — didn’t have to go far to find them.
I was wrong. I was foolish. I don’t get to play by different rules. The same boundaries that apply to everyone apply to me. I brought this shame on myself. I hurt my wife, my kids, my mother, my wife’s family, my friends, my foundation, and kids all around the world who admired me.
I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I have done. My failures have made me look at myself in a way I never wanted to before. It is now up to me to make amends. And that starts by never repeating the mistakes I have made. It is up to me to start living a life of integrity.
I once heard — and I believe it is true — it’s not what you achieve in life that matters, it is what you overcome. Achievements on the golf course are only part of setting an example. Character and decency are what really count. Parents used to point to me as a role model for their kids. I owe all of those families a special apology. I want to say to them that I am truly sorry.
It is hard to admit that I need help. But I do. For 45 days, from the end of December to early February, I was in inpatient therapy, receiving guidance for the issues I’m facing. I have a long way to go. But I’ve taken my first steps in the right direction.
As I proceed, I understand people have questions. I understand the press wants me to — to ask me for the details of the times I was unfaithful. I understand people want to know whether Elin and I will remain together. Please know that as far as I’m concerned, every one of these questions and answers is a matter between Elin and me. These are issues between a husband and a wife.
Some people have made up things that never happened. They said I used performance-enhancing drugs. This is completely and utterly false.
Some have written things about my family. Despite the damage I have done, I still believe it is right to shield my family from the public spotlight. They did not do these things. I did. I have always tried to maintain a private space for my wife and children. They have been kept separate from my sponsors, my commercial endorsements, when my children were born, we only released photographs so they … so that the paparazzi could not chase them.
However, my behavior doesn’t make it right for the media to follow my 2½-year-old daughter to school and report the school’s location. They staked out my wife and pursued my mom. Whatever my wrongdoings, for the sake of my family, please leave my wife and kids alone.
I recognize I have brought this on myself. And I know above all I am the one who needs to change. I owe it to my family to become a better person. I owe it to those closest to me to become a better man. That is where my focus will be. I have a lot of work to do. And I intend to dedicate myself to doing it.
Part of following this path for me is Buddhism, which my mother taught me at a young age. People probably don’t realize it, but I was raised a Buddhist, and I actively practiced my faith from childhood until I drifted away from it in recent years. Buddhism teaches that a craving for things outside ourselves causes an unhappy and pointless search for security. It teaches me to stop following every impulse and to learn restraint. Obviously, I lost track of what I was taught.
As I move forward, I will continue to receive help because I have learned that is how people really do change. Starting tomorrow, I will leave for more treatment and more therapy.
I would like to thank my friends at Accenture and the players in the field this week for understanding why I am making this — these remarks today. In therapy, I have learned that looking at — the importance of looking at my spiritual life and keeping in balance with my professional life. I need to regain my balance and be centered so I can save the things that are most important to me: my marriage and my children.
That also means relying on others for help. I have learned to seek support from my peers in therapy, and I hope someday to return that support to others who are seeking help.
I do plan to return to golf one day. I just don’t know when that day will be. I don’t rule out that it will be this year. When I do return, I need to make my behavior more respectful of the game.
In recent weeks, I have received many thousands of e-mails, letters and phone calls from people expressing good wishes. To everyone who has reached out to me and my family, thank you. Your encouragement means the world to Elin and me. I want to thank thePGA Tour, Commissioner [Tim] Finchem and the players for their patience and understanding while I work on my private life. I look forward to seeing my fellow players on the course.
Finally, there are many people in this room and there are many people at home who believed in me. Today, I want to ask for your help. I ask you to find room in your hearts to one day believe in me again. Thank you.
Bianchi
You want forgiveness? Go win the Masters
Mike Bianchi | 18 February 2010
Here are the only words I truly care to hear coming from Tiger Woods‘ mouth today during his first public statement since his life turned into a sordid sex scandal nearly three months ago:
“I’ll be playing The Masters in April and I plan on winning the darn thing. Hope to see everybody there. Have a nice day now.”
Nothing else matters to me, and it shouldn’t matter to you either.
I can’t wait to watch Tiger play golf again.
Everything else he says today is just a bunch of noise in the system.
My feelings were summed up perfectly Thursday morning by one of my favorite radio personalities — ESPN’s Mike Greenberg, who said (and I’m paraphrasing): “I don’t want to hear Tiger Woods say I’m sorry; I just want to hear him say I’m back.”
Amen, Greenie.
I want to hear Tiger Woods talking about his birdies and bogeys; not about his babes and bimbos. If you want to see him fall on a bloody sword, fine. I’d rather see him lift up a Claret Jug.
Many of my journalistic brothers and sisters are foaming at the laptop because Tiger is not having a full-fledged press conference today and won’t be taking any questions from the media. I’m not. I’d handle it just like Tiger is handling it.
He’ll have a press conference in good time. He’ll have to. But his return into the public domain should not come with reporters from TMZ and National Enquirer shouting questions at him about whether he impregnated a porn star.
Just because a voyeuristic American public may want to know the name of every porn queen and Perkins waitress and crave every dirty detail of Tiger’s private life, it doesn’t mean we have a right to know. Let’s face it, this is a no-win situation. It doesn’t matter how Tiger handles it — with a press conference or with an emotional public apology — he is going to get barbecued either way.
We wouldn’t believe him if he were dodging questions just as we are not going to believe him when reads today from a carefully crafted, precisely prepared public statement in front of handpicked crowd of supporters and reporters. Come on, everybody knows some six-figure suit who specializes in celebrity apologies likely wrote Tiger’s mea culpa for him.
The fact is, there is only one thing that will rehabilitate Tiger’s image: Returning to the golf course and winning tournaments. And from this point forward that’s all any sports fans should care about.
With all due respect, I don’t care how good of a husband or father Tiger Woods is. That’s his business; not mine. I like him because he can hit the golf ball really close to the hole from really far away. I like him because he entertains me. If you want him to be a role model, that’s your choice. I’ll just enjoy watching him destroy Phil Mickelson, if you don’t mind.
Don’t kid yourself. If Tiger plays golf in the future like he’s played golf in the past, he will become beloved again. He may have committed many moral transgressions, but don’t ever forget that losing is the biggest sin of all.
If Tiger starts winning, you’ll be shocked at how quickly fans forget. And as for the media, let me tell you how he will be covered if he wins another string of majors:
Cue the sappy music, please, and then insert the dramatic voiceover from ESPN’s Jeremy Schaap:
“This is a story of Eldrick ‘Tiger’ Woods — a courageous athlete who has risen from the ashes and overcome his own personal demons and haunting addictions; an athlete who has rebuilt and rehabilitated himself, not so much as a golfer but as a man, as a husband and as a father.” (Insert video of Tiger frolicking at the beach with his kids.)
Winning is the great American disinfectant. Just ask Kobe Bryant, who has gone from a rape charge seven years ago to the most popular player in the NBA today. Just ask Ray Lewis, who went from a murder charge a decade ago to winning a Super Bowl and having his face put on the package of a popular kid’s video game.
In other words, the public apology given by Tiger’s speechwriter today is completely and utterly meaningless.
America is not going to fall for any more white lies or red herrings.
Say this much about Tiger: People give a crap. I don’t know anyone who didn’t watch this morning’s speech. There isn’t another athlete — not one — who could have made the world stop from 11 to 11:15 like Tiger Woods did.
And with that, we’re done with the positives. I thought it was a borderline train wreck. It amazes me that Tiger learned little to nothing from the past two months. The control freak whose life slipped out of control dipped right back into control-freak mode, reading a prepared speech in front of a hand-selected audience of people, taking no questions, talking in clichés and only occasionally seeming human. Everything about it seemed staged. Everything. When the main camera broke down at the nine-minute mark and Tiger had to be shown from the side, I half-expected to see that he was plugged in to the wall.
Whatever. I was going to leave it alone. After all, that had to have been a humiliating experience for the guy. But listening to talking heads praise that ludicrous speech pushed me over the edge. Someone actually said, “It came from the heart.” It did? Was it C3PO’s heart? I thought it seemed like an automated response from Microsoft’s new “Cheater’s Confession” program.
Let’s look at the facts. Tiger cheats on his wife relentlessly and brazenly. She finds out somehow. This leads to him crashing his car in the wee hours of Thanksgiving night. Scandal. Cover-up. More women come out. And more. And more. Tiger disappears like Jimmy Hoffa. Elin stops wearing her ring. Tiger stays hidden. Rumors swirl. By hiding, by not saying anything, Tiger enables every rumor and negative story to gain steam. When he sneaks away to a sex rehab clinic for 45 days, neither Tiger or his representatives acknowledge rumors that he’s there. He emerges with a staged jogging photo op; one day later, three other photos of Tiger hitting golf balls, even seeming jovial in one of them, hit the wires. And then, today’s prepared remarks. That came from the heart. Just as long as you didn’t ask a follow-up question.
When we first saw the room in Ponte Vedra Beach, Fla., it looked like the set of a “Saturday Night Live” episode: small podium, blue curtain, some heads. The camera panned the crowd, revealing that there apparently had been an emergency casting call for somber white people in blazers. (Why didn’t I get an invite? I own a blazer! I could have looked somber!) At 11:01 a.m. ET, Tiger emerged from the back, and I remember thinking that it would have been awesome if he were naked from the waist down.
He spoke for the next 13 and a half minutes. He spoke … like this. There was … no emotion … in his words. His face … was blank … and empty. Part of me … felt bad … for him. There were … a couple of moments … when it seemed … like … he was trying … to shed a tear … or have his voice catch … just for effect. You get … the idea.
People wondered why Tiger opted for a prepared speech instead of the traditional move for disgraced celebrities: sitting down for an interview with “20/20″ or “Primetime.” You saw why as he was reading his statement. Tiger isn’t capable of discussing this stuff with depth or emotion. He can’t ad-lib about his feelings and never could. It would have been awful. Like so many other mega-celebrities who became famous too early, it’s as though they never properly develop the part of their brain that controls this question: “How can I win over the person I’m talking to right now?” When you become famous too early, you don’t have to win over anyone. You just have to exist. You become constantly wary. You start watching what you say around people you don’t know. You measure any potential friend or business partner by one question: “What do they want from me?”
That’s one reason he ended up in this mess. The other was simpler: Normal rules don’t apply to celebrities. This is what bothered me so much about Tiger entering sex rehab. Look, if he really does have a problem, fine. But if Tiger needs rehab, then so does half of the professional sports world. In Miami for the Super Bowl two weekends ago, I saw one famous athlete creeping on more girls than Ronnie, Pauly D and The Situation combined. In the era of cell phones and texts, post-Tiger scandal, you would have thought he’d be more careful. It became the running joke of the weekend. Uh-oh, there he is again! Still creeping!But that’s what these guys do. If we learned anything from the Tiger scandal, it’s that the celebrity debauchery circuit was much more complex than we ever imagined.
In “A Few Good Men,” one of my favorite scenes is when Kevin Bacon is cross-examining the guy from “ER” and asks him why “Code Red” isn’t in the rulebook, then Tom Cruise redirects and points out that the mess hall isn’t in there, either. Remember that? So how do you know how to get to the mess hall? You just follow the crowd. That’s the answer. And that’s what Tiger did this decade. He followed the crowd. He just got caught.
Should he have been contrite? Of course. But just be honest about it. My least favorite part of the speech: “But still, I know I have bitterly disappointed all of you. I have made you question who I am and how I could have done the things I did. I’m embarrassed that I have put you in this position. For all that I have done, I am so sorry. I have a lot to atone for.”
Big mistake. And plastic. I would have played the “I became a celebrity too soon, I had too many people kissing my butt too soon, I had everything handed to me, I began to think I was invincible and that my behavior had no consequences” card right here. Hell, I even would have compared myself to a child actor or a musician who becomes too famous too young. If the goal of the speech was to make people realize why he did what he did and seem contrite, why not try to connect with us instead of impersonating the little girl from “Small Wonder”? Arrrrrgh.
Tiger was properly hard on himself at times. He said “I’m deeply sorry” and “I’m sorry.” He called his behavior “irresponsible and selfish.” He called himself “selfish” and “foolish.” There was a weird moment when he said that “Elin and I have started the process of discussing the damage caused by my behavior. As Elin pointed out to me, my real apology to her will not come in the form of words. It will come from my behavior over time.” Then he said, “However, what we say to each other will remain between the two of us.” Well, except for that part about behavior over time.
The best part of the speech: “My behavior has caused considerable worry to my business partners, to everyone involved in my foundation, including my staff, board of directors, sponsors and, most importantly, the young students we reach. Our work is more important than ever. Thirteen years ago, my dad and I envisioned helping young people achieve their dreams through education. This work remains unchanged and will continue to grow. From the Learning Center students in Southern California to the Earl Woods scholars in Washington, D.C., millions of kids have changed their lives and I am dedicated to making sure that continues.”
Had I written the speech for him, I would have started there, and actually, I would have started with an anecdote about Tiger’s father and the man’s expectations for his son. We found out about Tiger through Earl. We grew attached to Tiger through Earl. They had one of the best father/son relationships in sports. Earl was the one person who made Tiger seem like anything other than a golf-ball-cracking cyborg. Like so many others, I wondered if Tiger lost his way after Earl’s death, no different than Jordan riding a Double-A bus in 1994. If the goal of this news conference was to get people to feel sorry for him and give him another chance, then Tiger should have gone there. It wouldn’t have been disingenuous. It would have been true. And it would have made him seem more human.
Letting down a foundation that he started with his late father … wasn’t that a bigger deal than letting down Nike or Notah Begay III? Wasn’t that the underrated collateral damage here? Only a few athletes have a chance to make a real difference in the community; Tiger has the chance, but his behavior made it more difficult. Anyone can get married, anyone can have kids, anyone can be good at their job. Not everyone can change the lives of tens of thousands of people.
That wasn’t the only tactical mistake Tiger made. He went on attack about Thanksgiving night, saying, “Some people have speculated that Elin somehow hurt or attacked me on Thanksgiving night. It angers me that people would fabricate a story like that.”
To be fair, Tiger, you crashed your car while leaving your house at 2:30 a.m., you weren’t wearing shoes, your neighbors found you asleep on the sidewalk and your wife holding a golf club, the back windows of your cars were smashed in, the accident wasn’t reported for 12 hours and then you disappeared for 10 weeks. You never told us what happened. You got terrible advice from your advisors and opened the door for people to imagine crazy scenarios for what happened that night. Don’t blame us.
He followed with this: “Elin never hit me that night or any other night. There has never been an episode of domestic violence in our marriage, ever. Elin has shown enormous grace and poise throughout this ordeal. Elin deserves praise, not blame.” Let’s hope this is true, because if it’s not, then nobody will ever be able to trust anything Tiger Woods says again.
The worst part of the speech: “I was unfaithful. I had affairs, I cheated. What I did is not acceptable. And I am the only person to blame. I stopped living by the core values that I was taught to believe in. I knew my actions were wrong, but I convinced myself that normal rules didn’t apply. I never thought about who I was hurting. Instead, I thought only about myself. I ran straight through the boundaries that a married couple should live by. I thought I could get away with whatever I wanted to. I felt that I had worked hard my entire life and deserved to enjoy all the temptations around me. I felt I was entitled. Thanks to money and fame, I didn’t have far — I didn’t have to go far to find them. I was wrong, I was foolish. I don’t get to play by different rules.”
It’s hard to explain how insufferable this was live, because on paper, it doesn’t seem so bad. But I had a number of problems with it, including …
• He came off like Schwarzenegger in “Terminator 2.”
• His premise was false. Really famous people DO get to play by different rules. Sorry. We enable them.
• I felt that I had worked hard my entire life and deserved to enjoy all the temptations around me has to rank among the worst excuses in the history of mankind. Christ, Tiger, you’re pretending that you put real thought into this? You thought you DESERVED to enjoy all the temptations around you? That’s your explanation? Trust me, you should have gone with “I got married too soon, I should have sowed my oats first, I didn’t, I’m an ass.” Much better. We could relate to that. Instead, you came off like a horny robot. Again, I think you should fire everyone at IMG and start over. They are doing you damage.
Back to the speech. I really liked this part: “It’s not what you achieve in life that matters, it’s what you overcome. Achievements on the golf course are only part of setting an example. Character and decency are what really count. Parents used to point at me as a role model for their kids. I owe all those families a special apology. I want to say to them that I am truly sorry.”
Fantastic. That should have been the second point in his speech, right after he talked about how he felt bad about ruining his charity foundation and letting down his late father, and just before he talked about the damage to his wife and kids. I thought it was fascinating that he apologized to his business partners well before he apologized to those families. Whatever.
Another part I liked: When he begged the paparazzi to leave his wife and kids alone. Sorry, they’re always going to bug your wife, Tiger. She married a public figure. But the kids … yes. Agreed. Kids should always be off-limits. You could have gone further here. Anyone with kids would have felt bad for you.
Things tailed off near the end when he mentioned being “raised a Buddhist” and “actively practiced my faith from childhood until I drifted away from it in recent years.” I would say so. As Tiger said, “Buddhism teaches that a creation of things outside ourselves causes an unhappy and pointless search for security. It teaches me to stop following every impulse and to learn restraint. Obviously, I lost track of what I was taught.” That’s an understatement. If this is true, he’s one of the worst Buddhists of all time.
He talked about needing more treatment, and about “the importance of looking at my spiritual life and keeping in balance with my professional life.” (This sounded like it was written through one of those Russian-to-English translators.) He thought he needed “to regain my balance and be centered, so I can save the things that are most important to me: My marriage and my children.” (Better late than never.) He said he planned to return to golf one day, but “I just don’t know when that day will be.” (That groan you heard came from everyone who couldn’t have been more excited about the 2010 Masters, including me.)
By this point, I was making the same face that an airplane passenger makes in the first few seconds after an unclaimed fart. Tiger mercifully ended the proceedings by saying, “Finally … there are many people in this room … and there are many people at home … who believed in me. Today … I want to ask for your help. I ask you … to find room in your heart … to one day … believe in me again. Thank you.”
He seemed to get choked up, but we couldn’t tell because the main camera broke and he had been shot from the left side for about four minutes. The conspiracy theorist in me wondered if the broken camera was part of the plan. Either way, I left the speech angry — not at the speech itself, but by the fact that someone who said, “I was wrong, I was foolish. I don’t get to play by different rules” continued to think he could play by different rules.
I want to come clean. Just under my terms. And you can’t ask me anything.
In a few weeks, or a few months, Tiger will start hitting golf balls and everything will be fine again. I just want to get there. For now, we apparently have to put up with a few more weeks (and possibly months) of the Tiger Woods Rehabilitation Tour. There will be more rehab, more staged photos, more secrecy and eventually a carefully planned interview with the right person who won’t be a threat to ask him anything interesting. Wake me up when he plays a tournament. And if you want to watch a clip of the speech, just watch the first 10 seconds that started with the curtain. It’s still there.
A remarkable video interpretation of an interview conducted by the BBC with Iraq’s former oil minister and nuclear scientist Hussain Al-Shahristani, who spent ten years [...]
Is the sun setting on peace between Israel and Iran?
Here’s an outstanding discussion by Victor Davis Hanson and Robert Baer on how Obama should deal with Israel and Iran. Israel now lives in the shadow of Iran’s nuclear pretensions and in a state of actual, if by proxy, war with the region’s most volatile and [...]
The Iconic photo of Afghanistan.
Afghanistan is probably one of the world’s most beautiful countries…and one of its most hopeless. The name itself, belying its fragmented reality, is derived from an alternative sobriquet for the country’s majority Pashtun population, and simply means “place of the Pashtuns” or, more wittily, “Pashtun Place”. Truth be told, the [...]
The misery of Afghanistan is etched into this Afghan woman’s face.
On September 1, 2009, George Will wrote an op-ed piece for the Washington Post entitled “Time to Get Out of Afghanistan” (see article below). As one of America’s foremost conservative pundits, Will’s article sent shudders throughout a Conservative establishment that, even after eight years of [...]
Christ Pantocrator.
Christopher Hitchens takes an unauthorized smoking break in a “Moor Mud Mask” at the Four Seasons Biltmore Resort, in Santa Barbara. Photographs by Art Streiber.
The author catches his breath after undergoing his first waterboarding session. Photographs by Gasper Tringale.
Hitchens is helped up after signaling for the waterboarding to stop.
The Libertine sans two gay Tories and soap.
The Playa.
Christ Pantocrator
The Three Stooges: Toyota, the government, and the state-controlled media.
Toyota recall timeline and the results of “Lean Manufacturing”. Graphic sourced from Reuters.
The Golfer Formerly Known as Tiger
Tiger Woods met President Barack Obama at the White House in April of 2009.
Is the sun setting on peace between Israel and Iran?
Here’s an outstanding discussion by Victor Davis Hanson and Robert Baer on how Obama should deal with Israel and Iran. Israel now lives in the shadow of Iran’s nuclear pretensions and in a state of actual, if by proxy, war with the region’s most volatile and [...]
The Iconic photo of Afghanistan.
Afghanistan is probably one of the world’s most beautiful countries…and one of its most hopeless. The name itself, belying its fragmented reality, is derived from an alternative sobriquet for the country’s majority Pashtun population, and simply means “place of the Pashtuns” or, more wittily, “Pashtun Place”. Truth be told, the [...]
The misery of Afghanistan is etched into this Afghan woman’s face.
On September 1, 2009, George Will wrote an op-ed piece for the Washington Post entitled “Time to Get Out of Afghanistan” (see article below). As one of America’s foremost conservative pundits, Will’s article sent shudders throughout a Conservative establishment that, even after eight years of [...]
Postmodernism becomes post-mining-ism…
By the dialectical playa on March 6, 2010
About two weeks ago, I wrote a post critical of the view that the majority of our elite class (mostly “moderates” and liberals) have of the American economy. Whether ensconced in ivory towers or cloistered in socially and intellectually isolated monasteries like the Washington Post and The Guardian, the elites hold a distinctively non-industrial, non-manufacturing, abstract-based, collectivist economic model as sacrosanct. In my post, I eviscerated the New York Times’s David Brooks, their “conservative” maven, for his hopey-changey/touchy-feely solution to solving our burgeoning unemployment rate by suggesting that men – the group most affected by the Obama recession – embrace “nurturing” and the new “service economy”.
Apparently the European elite class – those savants who have successfully plunged their continent into demographic, economic, and multicultural hell – concurs with Brooks as Der Spiegel published a simultaneously poignant and absurdly piquant article today on the painful transformation of Germany’s Ruhr Valley into a “Creative Economy” of tours, balloons, and “the longest table in the world” to compensate for the collapse of the area’s once vital coal industry.
There are 53 cities in the region, which comprises an area of 4,435 square kilometers (1,711 square miles) between the Hamm and Wesel Rivers, and almost all of them face, or are about to face, budget shortfalls. As a result, cities have been forced to introduce austerity measures, such as lowering the water temperature in public swimming pools in Bochum and Duisburg, or mowing lawns in public parks less frequently in Oberhausen. This winter, not all communities provided snow removal services. Streetlights are being shut off, school renovations have been put on hold and youth programs have been cancelled. The city of Dortmund has determined that it will have to cut €80 million ($108 million) in costs each year for the foreseeable future, while the city of Oberhausen will end the year €1.8 billion in the red.”
- from Der Spiegel
Who needs industry, construction, and heavy manufacturing when you have tours, balloons, and “the longest table in the world”? One Ruhr resident who reminisced about the region’s golden era between the early 1900s and the late 1960s stated that there were five elements that coalesced to permanently shape the Ruhr region’s mentality:
I think the last point is the most telling. What is inferred is not the encouraging, benevolent hand of a freedom-and-liberty loving government but rather an intrusive nanny-state that dictates how people should live their lives in artificially constructed societies. As Elmar Weiler, vice-chancellor of the Ruhr University in Bochum and a winner of the Leibniz Prize awarded to top German researchers, blissfully observed:
But with so many people now wanting a free lunch at the world’s longest table, even the local government’s fully laden People’s Horn of Cornucopia is running out, provoking Elmar – so compliant to the shibboleth of Europe’s political correctness – to complain that the “entrepreneurial spirit is not as prevalent among students here as it is in other parts of Germany”:
Many are the first members of their families to attend a university. They learn quickly and pragmatically, but they often have little experience with intellectual curiosity and the creative and chaotic flow of ideas. At the Ruhr University, says Weiler, students see it as a positive character trait when someone is not intellectually aloof. In a sense, he adds, their attitudes are anti-intellectual.
- from Der Spiegel
Alexis de Toqueville wrote that
If the Germans desire equality in servitude, at least they will have it with balloons.
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In preparation for the big year, the Folkwang Museum in Essen was newly renovated according to a design by star architect David Chipperfield.
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