Well, I Certainly Feel Better. . .
For those of you who have been feeling just a tad too secure lately, here's a dire warning, compliments of our level-headed political leaders, of the terror situation we've been living in for, oh, just over a year now.
WASHINGTON, Oct. 18 — Terrorists could try to strike again soon in the United States, FBI Director Robert Mueller says, while offering little assurance the agency can thwart the next attack. CIA Director George Tenet says the current situation is comparable to the summer before Sept. 11.
Well, duhhhh! <-- Insert total surfer dude inflection here. Why, I ask you, why does the government feel compelled to keep pounding this obvious crap into our skulls on a daily basis? Oh, right, it's an election year, and our economy is in the pot. Best to focus attention on something that feeds voter fears, I suppose.
"I have a hard time telling the country that you should be comfortable, that we've covered all the bases, in the wake of what we saw they were able to accomplish on Sept. 11," Mueller told the House and Senate Intelligence committees Thursday.
They? Who are they? Oh, right, al Queda, or al Quaida, or al Quaeda, or al Quesadilla. Would somebody please come up with a damn concensus on how that organization spells its name? Argh!
Tenet testified: "You must make the analytical judgment that the possibility exists that people are planning to attack you inside the United States - multiple simultaneous attacks. We are the enemy, we're the people they want to hurt inside this country."
We're the people they want to hurt inside this country? Who else are they going to attack inside this country? Swedes? How bored is the House and Senate that they have to organize committees to hear such obvious testimony? Is there a Committee on Deciding Whether Bile Tastes Better Than Mountain Dew? Actually, that's probably a toss-up, er, no pun intended.
At a hearing called to look back at what intelligence agencies did right and wrong before Sept. 11, many lawmakers focused on the future: How likely is another attack and how prepared are U.S. officials to respond to it? The answers Mueller and Tenet gave were sobering.
Gotta love the journalistic interjection of a little bias. Sobering? Am I to assume the reporter showed up drunk and was magically sobered up by the news that additional attacks are imminent? Why is this entry so littered with questions? Why is "fart" such a funny word?
‘EXECUTION PHASE' (Ooh, now that's an edge-of-your-seat sub-head if ever there was one)
"You must make the assumption that al-Qaida is in an execution phase and intends to strike us both here and overseas," Tenet said, noting recent attacks in Kuwait and Indonesia and off Yemen. "That's unambiguous as far as I'm concerned."
Oh, you want ambiguity? Why didn't you say so? Ladies and gentlemen, we give you the King of Ambiguity (a little nation of no consequence), the honorable George Tenet and his equally ambiguous cohort Gordon Johndroe (not to be confused with John Doe):
Tenet said Homeland Security Director Tom Ridge has already taken defensive measures "in specific areas where the intelligence was most credible and in sectors where we're most worried about." He didn't identify them. The nationwide alert level remains code yellow, or "significant risk of terrorist attacks," because officials do not have specific details on where and when an attack may occur, Homeland Security spokesman Gordon Johndroe said. Yellow is the third-highest of five threat levels.
Now that's ambiguity!
Last week, the FBI and several federal agencies overseeing certain high-risk sectors such as transportation, energy and agriculture sent warnings urging extra precautions. The chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, Sen. Bob Graham, D-Fla., noted intelligence warnings that Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein could order terrorist attacks against Americans if the United States invades his country.
Wait a minute. The last I heard, Iraqi ties to terrorism were tenuous at best. Suddenly Saddam is capable of ordering terrorist attacks? Wouldn't Suddenly Saddam be a most excellent NBC sitcom to follow Friends? The premise for the show would be a displaced Iraqi dictator (we'll call him Saddam) trying to eke out a living in a major U.S. metropolitan area (I'm thinking Baltimore).
‘NOT PREPARED'
"I'm concerned that we are not prepared for that, particularly not prepared here inside the United States," Graham said in an interview.
Not prepared for my brilliant Suddenly Saddam sitcom? Who says? Oh, wait, he's talking about terrorism. My bad.
Mueller said the FBI is focusing on the threat of terrorists who would use military action against Iraq as a pretext to strike. But he said an attack as meticulously planned and executed as the Sept. 11 hijackings would be hard to stop. At Thursday's hearing, Tenet offered his most detailed public accounting to date of what the CIA did to stop Osama bin Laden's terrorist network before Sept. 11. He said his agency has saved thousands of lives by successfully stopping terrorist attacks, but admitted some mistakes were made.
Cutscene to images of airliners crashing into World Trade center, smoldering Pentagon wall, large crater in Pennsylvania, and anthrax mail augmenting the assertion that "some mistakes were made."
Tenet said the CIA was convinced months before the Sept. 11 hijackings that bin Laden was plotting to kill large numbers of Americans, but the intelligence available was "maddeningly short" of details. "The most ominous reporting hinting at something large was also the most vague," he said.
Note to al Queda operatives: Be more specific next time.
The session was the last of five weeks of public hearings, part of the committees' inquiry into intelligence failures leading up to the attacks. A final report will be issued in coming months.
Oh, goody. Can I order my copy now? I need something to help me doze off after a long day of feeling terrified.
Tenet, Mueller and National Security Agency Director Lt. Gen. Michael Hayden rejected criticism by inquiry staff that U.S. counterterrorism efforts were hampered by a failure to share information and that they hadn't made fighting terrorism a high enough priority before the attacks. Tenet highlighted agency successes, many of them long secret, including the thwarting of planned attacks in Yemen, Jordan and elsewhere in the Middle East.
They kinda dropped the ball when it came to that whole assault on American soil that happened about a year ago, but at least they thwarted that attack in Yemen.
Tenet also said the CIA lost 18 percent of its budget and 16 percent of its personnel in post-Cold War cutbacks.
Whine alert! Whine alert!
But even before he spoke, Rep. Nancy Pelosi, the Democratic Whip from California, said: "It's not enough to say we didn't have enough money or enough people. No one does. That's always the case. It's about establishing priorities."
*grrowwwlllll* I don't know about you, but I'm exceedingly turned on by the thought of Nancy Pelosi as a dominatrix, brandishing her Democratic Whip. Spank me, baby!
CLASH OVER MISTAKES
Tenet also clashed with the committees in an area in which he admitted mistakes: the CIA's failure to put two future Sept. 11 hijackers on watch lists preventing their entry into the United States after they were first associated with al-Qaida, in early 2000. They weren't placed on the lists until a few weeks before the attacks. Tenet said the CIA had alerted the FBI in January 2000 that one of the hijackers, Khalid al-Mihdhar, had a U.S. visa; the inquiry staff director said no evidence has been found showing the FBI was told about the visa.
Bitch, bitch, bitch. I propose that all future clashes between the FBI and CIA be conducted with actual swords. It would be far more entertaining.
After Tenet said that apparently no one at CIA headquarters had read a cable that said al-Mihdhar had flown to Los Angeles, Sen. Carl Levin, D-Mich., asked if that was a mistake. "Yes. Of course. In hindsight," Tenet responded.
And that's how the article ended, with Tenet spouting a whipped-dog statement of obeisance. I was hungering for so much more, but I guess I was sufficiently scared by the incompetence of our nation's security as it was.
Why is Face Hugging So Much Better Than Life?
Last night, following two hours of hapkido during which my forearms became two giant continuous bruises due to blocking, I settled in with a nice mixed drink consisting of Absolut Vodka, 7-Up, and Minute Maid lemonade. I fired up my latest video game, Alien vs. Predator 2 (thanks Layne), and set about trying to figure out the maddening purchase.
I learned a lot; namely, I learned you can pick off humans from a long ways off using the initial weapon they provide the predator. I mean a long ways off. I'm pretty sure a predator could be sipping a tropical drink in Mauii and pick off a marine in Vermont. Well, anyway, I eventually tired of the predator activity and ventured into the realm of the Aliens, and I finally was able to navigate the face hugger into the room of a sleeping marine, and I just sort of sat there, on my arachnid-like legs, looking at my soon-to-be victim. My mouse button finger was twitching madly, eager to pounce on the face of the snoring marine who had foolishly left his door ajar. Yet I hesitated.
At that moment, a moment that should have been ripe with victory, I started thinking, "why the hell am I playing this game?" I mean, seriously, I have the world literally at my fingertips via the Internet. I could, and should, be writing just for the sake of writing. I could, and should, be surfing for more enjoyable employment. I could, and should, be adding to my cache of Internet porn. I could, and should, be doing a lot of other things that could enrich my existence.
But, I opted to pounce on the marine's face and advance to the next level. And it was fucking cool.
Getting Caught With Your Pants Down, Exposing a Little Bush
So, yesterday, there we sat, an American nation tumbling headlong into a war with Iraq, with a loose cannon of a president at the controls determined to settle an old score and maybe "open the spigot" to the world's second largest oil reserves. Forget our sputtering economy, we had Iraq in our sights, a country that sort of, maybe, possibly, perhaps had some ties with al Queda, and most certainly, almost positively, virtually without a doubt, has been developing weapons of mass destruction, including biological, chemical and nuclear toys. Yes, Saddam was the world's most obvious evil, and we were just a few executive orders away from Gulf War 2: This One's For Daddy. But that was yesterday.
Enter North Korea, a country that enjoyed 15 minutes of fame earlier last year when it was named one of the co-founders of the "Axis of Evil." No, not little North Korea. They're so cute, except for the fact they were covertly working to enrich uranium for a nuclear weapons program. I don't know about you, but I could have sworn, around 4 p.m. yesterday, I heard a muffled scream being carried on the wind from the direction of Washington D.C. It sounded like a familiar Texas drawl yelling "Wall Holy Sheeee-yat!!" Didn't see this one coming, did ya Mr. Bush? Now whatcha gonna do? Huh? Huh? Well, let's examine the facts.
Iraq may be trying to develop nuclear weapons, although we have no firsthand proof. North Korea, on the other hand, is trying to develop nuclear weapons, and they even said so, in a political admission requiring testicles the size of soccer balls or a brain the size of a peanut. Gotta give Kim Jong Il credit for upstaging Saddam. "Oh yeah, Mr. Scourge of the Middle East, look what we can do!"
Seriously, in a world where national pride is measured in technological achievements, how do you keep struggling nations from working to develop the Bomb? It's like the #1 requirement on the national acceptance sheet. "Let's see, we can't feed our people, and our military is pretty much a hodgepodge of pitchfork-weilding farmers, but hey, we have the Bomb, so we have some level of respectability."
Sometimes I wonder if we wouldn't be better off if every country had nukes. Mutually assured destruction for everyone! Let's see who exercises the most restraint.
A Whole Bunch of Randomness
Just for the record, Compound W is the most amazing wart removal concoction ever developed, er, short of liquid nitrogen I mean. The once massive wart adorning my thumb has been sizzled away to a mere bump of its former self. Granted, a large portion of surrounding skin has also been cooked down into a dermal crater, but that's to be expected. The removal of the wart is of paramount importance, and I think three more days of aggresive treatment will teach that sucker who is da' man! For those of you who are slow on the uptake, I should point out that I, Ryan Rhodes, am the man referred to in the preceeding sentence. Ah, to be wart free. It won't be long now, my pretties.
The girl and I carved pumpkins last night, an activity I haven't engaged in since I was 13 or 14. I'd forgotten how much I disliked the smell and texture of pumpkin guts. They're so slimy and slippery and, just plain "yech." We were up until 2 a.m. carving our gourds, and it was actually quite fun.
A note to Plain Layne. Layne, I went and purchased Alien vs. Predator 2, primarily due to your testosterone-inducing critique. I have to say, I've never had so much trouble trying to learn how to play a freaking video game. My short-lived career as a fledgling face hugger ended ungloriously in the rotating blades of an air-duct fan. Walking on walls and ceilings is among the most disorienting things I can imagine. I hope I'm never reincarnated as a spider. My career as a marine didn't fare much better. I flinched and fired my damn weapon every time I thought I sort of kind of heard a noise. And then something killed me from behind. All those hours of boot camp to be torn apart on a faraway world. What a shame. I haven't tried the predator yet. I figure, if I can't even get a face hugger to hug a face, what chance will I have controlling a predator? I also have to get a new computer. My 450 Mhz processor just can't cut it any more. It's great for Red Alert 2, but AvP is so jerky it reminds me of my first and only attempt at driving a manual transmission automobile.
How come you can sit in your office all day in perfect solitude, but as soon as you let your guard down and let fly with a little flatulence, someone comes in to ask you a question? Every time. Without fail. It's enough to make a man never want to fart again. Okay, even I don't believe that one.
I Want to Stuff a Boot Up Jerry Falwell's Ass
For those not familiar with Jerry Falwell, let me quickly highlight some of his latest gems. Ol' Jerry had the audacity to ascend the pulpit after 9/11 and insist that the attacks, although clearly carried out by terrorists, which he denounced, God may have allowed the tragedy to happen because America had lapsed into moral decay. For Ol' Jerry, moral decay was a direct result of the actions carried out by the ACLU, abortionists, feminists, homosexuals, and the People For the American way. So, there you have it, God was so mad at America's civil liberties, the nation's tolerance of alternative lifestyles, and women who have the gall to actually want equality with men, he allowed the terrorists to strike on 9/11. Excuse me while I roll my eyes and yell "Up yours, Jerry Falwell!" at the top of my lungs.
Not surprisingly, Falwell's remarks were not well-received by the vast majority of Americans, and he quickly backed down, offering an apology and slinking away in true whipped-dog fashion, in order to buy time and come up with a different enemy at which to point fingers. The ever-resourceful Jerry found Islam, and the Islamic world has been railing against Falwell ever since, adding fodder to an already unpopular Islamic view of America as a nation intent on the annihilation of the Muslim faith.
Yes, Jerry found Islam, and he has been sharpening his attacks against the 1.3 billion adherent religion in the hopes of, well, I don't know what his hopes are (*cough, cough* *MONEY!* *cough, cough*). Jerry provides a wealth of ammunition to support his position that Islam is evil, and then he offers up a little piece of commentary of his own. I don't know about you, but I wanted to rake my eyes out as I read what he had to say. But, since I need my eyes, I decided instead to rake over Jerry's words.
Behind The Scenes at The Southern Baptist Convention,
St. Louis, Missouri
By Jerry Falwell
This week's annual meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention was met with some unexpected fireworks after my friend Dr. Jerry Vines, pastor of the First Baptist Church of Jacksonville, Fla., declared that Muhammad was a "demon-possessed pedophile" and that Islam teaches the destruction of all non-Muslims.
Let's see, you attack a world religion, calling it a faith conjured by a "demon-possessed pedophile" and you don't expect fireworks? That's like having unprotected sex with 800 Thai prostitutes and not expecting HIV. Give me a break. He knew exactly what he was saying and he knew exactly what the media fallout would be. It was a test balloon to see how well-received the Falwell anti-Islam stance would be.
If you want to raise the ire of the mainstream press and the swarm of politically-correct organizations in this nation, just criticize Islam (as Dr. Vines learned).
Didn't I just say that?
Dr. Vines' statements were made in reference to the new book, "Unveiling Islam: An Insider's Look at Muslim Life and Beliefs" (Kregel Publications). It is written by scholars Ergun and Emir Caner, brothers raised as Muslims who are today dynamic and outspoken Christians. Ergun is assistant professor of theology and church history at Criswell College in Dallas, while Emir is assistant professor of church history and Anabaptist studies at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, N.C.
Always preface an unpopular and narrow-minded view by trotting out so-called experts with glowing credentials. Everyone knows that professors are authoritative sources for everything, particularly when they hail from such honored and well-known universities as Criswell College (it's homeschooler friendly!) and the Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. By the way, Criswell College had a Web hit counter that had 681 visitors, including me. What does that say about their enrollment? Anyone can have glowing credentials if they have a little imagination and a gift for bullshitting. For example, I could be "Ryan Rhodes, a journalist of four years and an award winning columnist, honored by the Minnesota Better newspaper Contest for two years." All of that is true, but all of that doesn't mean a lick of shit.
Dr. Vines also quoted from the Hadith, a respected source for Islamic teaching among Muslim clerics and followers worldwide. Upon examination, the Hadith verifies that Muhammad did marry the nine-year-old daughter of a friend. The girl, named Aisha, became known as the "mother of believers."
"It's simply a matter of quoting [Islamic] sources," said Emir Caner. "If we are wrong in our understanding of the Islamic scriptures, we would be happy to be corrected."
The specific Hadith citation concerning Muhammad's relationship with the young girl is in volume 7, book 6, number 64 and 65, said Ergun Caner. (Both Emir and Ergun Caner were Sunni Muslims who became Christians in 1982.)
Oh, well, as long as we're quoting sources, let's consult our own Bible, you know, the one where Abraham had sex with Hagar, his wife's slave, the one with Solomon and his many wives and his fling with the Queen of Sheba, and the one that hints that masturbation may make you blind (then how come I can still see? Huh? Huh?).
"The comments in question cannot be considered bigotry when they come from Islamic writings," Ergun said during a press conference hosted by Baptist Press in St. Louis.
Yes, yes, I get it. You're quoting Islamic writings. Lousy Hadith-thumpers.
A lengthy passage from the Hadith, volume 1, book 1, chapter 1, shows that Muhammad himself believed he was under demonic influence, but it notes that Muhammad's wife is the one who deemed his experience as "divine," said Ergun.
Concerning terrorism and Islamic jihad, Emir noted differential interpretations by Muslims themselves. Some, he said, see jihad as a "spiritual war," while others see it as meaning "physical," he said.
Well, it took awhile, but we're finally here. We've finally bit into the meat of the issue: jihad. Just saying it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, like licking the back of your hand after working in a garden. Therefore, it's the perfect word from which to sew the seeds of hate for an entire religion. So, let's get to it. Jerry, back to you.
"Some Muslims want to allegorize their own scriptures because they don't want to defend jihad," Emir said. "But if you take the Koran at its word, or Muhammad at his word, then you'll find physical jihad." In fact, he noted, the highest level of Muslim heaven — which has 70 perpetual virgins on couches — is reserved for Muslims who "shed their blood" (Hadith 135). Islam's inclination toward violence, he added, also is reflected in the Koran: "Slay the enemy where you find him (Surah 9.92).
Christianity has a similar word. It's called crusade, although we haven't invoked the term for quite awhile. And again with the virgins. Gotta mention the virgins. All 70 of them. The Christian crusaders were also promised a life in Heaven (absent the virgins) should they fall on the battlefield, so we're not all that different after all. And do I have to mention the now-defunct selling of indulgences?
Dr. Vines was simply pointing out these distinctions. Since the media so often treats the Muslim religion with utter reverence — something we Baptists are unfamiliar with — he felt it was important that SBC members understand these distinctions. If those in the media were doing their jobs, Dr. Vines would have never felt it necessary to point out these disquieting elements of an enigmatic religion.
Just for the record, the media does not treat the Muslim religion with utter reverence. The media, as far as I can tell, has been trying to draw distinctions between Islam and militant Islamic fundamentalists, not unlike the distinction between Christians and the Ku Klux Klan. They're not one and the same, no matter how much Jerry wants America to believe all Muslims are bloodthirsty Christian-haters willing to blow themselves up in front of nightclubs at a moment's notice.
Ergun Caner observed an element of hypocrisy in the quest to portray Islam as a peaceful religion: "A so-called Christian who bombs an abortion clinic or shoots an abortionist and says God told him to do it does that act against the Bible," he said. "But the Muslim who commits acts of violence in jihad does so with the approval of Muhammad. … When September 11 happened, we were all shocked. But where was the international outrage when jihad killed three million people (Christian people, I might add) in Sudan?"
No level-headed dissertation via Falwell would be complete without an abortion reference, so there you go. As for the Sudanese mention, I have to agree that the situation there is grim, but that's a civil war, not terrorism.
A major element in the SBC — under the leadership of newly-elected president, Dr. Jack Graham — will be that of "Empowering Kingdom Growth." This major ministry initiative encourages SBC members to humbly seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. This means we will accelerate our efforts to take the Gospel to all people — including Muslims. We do not do this as a form of "hate," as some charge. We do this because we want others to know the peace that comes solely through a relationship with Jesus Christ — "For He Himself is our peace…" (Ephesians 2:14).
What the hell is this all about? Weren't we discussing how evil Islam is? Talk about changing the subject. If this were a movie, this would be where the actor haphazardly interjects a product placement.
Among other actions, SBC messengers also called for churches and civil authorities to hold accountable clergy members guilty of sexual abuse. Another resolution calls for President Bush to place a "high priority" on enacting a ban on partial-birth abortion. And the SBC's North American Mission Board challenged members to consider their personal role in the "Go" part of the Great Commission by personally participating in mission trips during 2003.
Cruising right along, we're treated to a passing reference to holding clergy members accountable for sexual abuse. You'd think he would have made a bit of a bigger deal out of this, what with all the ink he dedicated to "Muhammed marrying Aisha, the nine-year-old daughter of a friend." Apparently, the irony is lost on Jerry.
The Southern Baptist Convention is a denomination of 16 million people who are serious about their calling to be representatives of Jesus Christ. While we do not receive the kind and gentle treatment that most other socially-acceptable denominations enjoy, we are committed to boldly speaking Truth in love to the peoples of this world.
Awwwww, you don't receive the kind and gentle treatment of other denominations. Awwwww. That's just too fucking bad. Do you want some cheese and crackers with your whine? Welcome to the church of Tiffani Amber-Thiessen.
And I am gratified to have a part in this great effort.
*Whoosh! Whump! Squish!* I have virtually, through the magic of the Internet, inserted a dirty old boot in the cyber-ass of Jerry Falwell. And I feel much, much better.
"Forrest Gump VS Einstein" c. Ryan Rhodes, Oct. 9, 2002
There comes a time in every relationship when you have to ask, "who is smarter." Actually, if you know what's good for you, this question should never come up.
Instead, men should simply say that the woman is always smarter, and then slink away and mutter under his breath that he's actually smarter. From a safe distance of course. Like Siberia.
So it was, when my girlfriend visited recently, armed with a self-scoring I.Q. test for the two of us to take together, I had my reservations. If she should emerge with a higher IQ, I'd be left licking my egotistical wounds for just shy of eternity. If I should emerge with a higher IQ, however, I would run the risk of losing 30 IQ points when she hurls a candle at my noggin.
To protect my girlfriend's identity, and to save her the embarrassment of having to tell people she actually dates me, I shall refer to her simply as Galadriel Gonoril Goodbody, or just Gal for short.
Now, Gal was genuinely excited about taking an IQ test with me, and I guess I can't blame her. After all, right there on the cover, the test said it was "Fun To Take. . .Easy To Score." In retrospect, I think I read a bit too deeply into the "Easy To Score" aspect.
There were early indications that our approach to IQ test taking was probably not ideal. For example, we completed our first two IQ test segments while drinking margaritas at Applebees. This was in direct conflict with the test's suggestion that we "try to work in a comfortable, undisturbed atmosphere."
Eventually, the stress of the tests started to take its toll on me. During the word comprehension test, an exam I should have waltzed through, I found myself arguing with the questions. The test required that I pick out the word that is least like the others in a grouping. For example, in the grouping STAMP, LETTER, ENVELOPE, MAILMAN, mailman was least like the others because it is the only person in the group.
"Well, yes," I thought. "But really, the stamp, letter and envelope aren't going anywhere without the mailman. In fact, the mailman might be so upset about being so cruelly singled out as being ‘different,' he may just choose to lose the stamp, letter and envelope all together."
By the time I had finished arguing with myself over the mailman's rightful place in the grouping, I had precious little time to decide what didn't belong within CLOUDY, SUNNY, HUMID, OVERCAST. In Minnesota, don't they all apply?
One of the more difficult exams had to do with logic, perhaps because I'm such an illogical guy. Whatever the reason, I again found myself asking probing questions about the questions themselves.
For example, one question read, "June lives 3 miles north of Lois. Ann lives 3 miles south of Stacey. Stacey lives 3 miles east of June. Lois lives 3 miles west of Ann. In relationship to June, where does Ann live?"
Now, really, if they have such detailed information about these four women, couldn't they figure it out for themselves? Come to think of it, why are the whereabouts of these four women so well known? What kind of privacy-invading satellite technology is keeping such strict tabs on Lois, Ann, Stacey and June? And how come I don't know more about so many apparently single women living in such close proximity to each other?
By far, the most difficult test was the creativity exam, a devilish brainteaser that required me to think of a word that went with the three words presented on the test page. For the words MINE, DUST, and COIN, for example, the word that would go with all three is GOLD. But, alas, that was an easy one. When confronted by the grouping LEAVES, BAG, PARTY, I was left with no answers save for the mental image of some poor guy leaving a party consisting of people wearing bags.
After the final exam, I tallied up the scores for Gal and myself. I won't say who won, because I want to keep dating Gal, but I will say that I was somewhere between Forrest Gump and Albert Einstein.
I'll leave it up to you to decide where I fit best.
Meeting Prejudice Face-to-Face, and Getting the Hell Out of There
I should preface this entry by saying the Japanese are, by and large, among the most polite people I've ever encountered. As one good friend I met while living in Japan said, "You could meet a Japanese person that absolutely hates your guts, but he'll do everything in his power to help you out."
It's hard to believe it's been almost 10 full years since I lived in Japan, and it's even harder to believe how strong some of my memories still are. As a 17-year-old in a foreign land, I did a lot of mental growing up in a very short time, and I learned a lot about how the world actually works, although I didn't really know it at the time. Overall, I viewed Japan as a condensed version of America, except the population was shorter, spoke a different language, and liked foods that sent my "steak and potatoes" taste buds into a tailspin. "They eat what? Why? Where's their ketchup? Why does everything have a subtle taste of fish? I want to die!"
The first lesson I learned, abruptly, was that I was part of the minority. I was often the sole tall white person amidst a sea of Japanese train-goers. Most people would simple go about their daily routine, sleeping while standing up, or reading those ubiquitous Japanese comic books. Others, though, would stare at me, almost through me, with unwavering eyes that seemed at once to be curious, cautious, concerned, suspicious, entertained and sometimes ominous. Nothing ever came of those uncomfortable train staring incidents, beyond the uncomfortable awareness of my own glaring differences in a country that was already totally alien to me.
I quickly was able to shrug off the feeling of being different, and I made friends with many classmates hailing from a plethora of countries like Singapore, Sweden, Germany, China, Korea, Japan, Cananda (okay, that doesn't count) and even a couple of Americans. By mid-year, I was feeling pretty acclimated to Japan and my new surroundings, and I had a wanderlust that took me all around Tokyo, sometimes by myself, sometimes with others.
My wanderlust took me on many adventures, but a handful stick with me as the most memorable (including the woman who slapped me around and accused me of fathering her child), and the time I almost got the living hell kicked out of me for being white is top among them.
I had gotten off the train at a station a couple stops down from Shibuya. I can't remember why I chose that station, or even its name, although I seem to recall a heavenly smell of pastry wafting onto the train when the doors opened that just kind of beckoned me off the train. I ambled around the unfamiliar streets for about 45 minutes, poking my head into assorted shops, not really interested in anything. Eventually, I noticed a narrow alley that sported a conglomeration of tiny shops that I always found irresistable. I explored a couple and was about to go back to the station when I noticed a tiny noodle restaurant that looked interesting. I was hungry, and I thought a bowl of noodles would realy hit the spot.
I entered the dingy shop, and I immediately sensed that I had stepped into the one restaurant in Tokyo that did not want me there. All eyes, about 25 pairs in all, set on me with a vigilance not unlike lions awaiting the fall of a wounded impala. Being 17, stupid, and just a tad too trusting of human nature, I sauntered up to the counter and waited to be served. And I waited. And I waited. And then I waited some more. And then I raised my hand to signal the woman behind the counter, and that was all the invitation the gentleman sitting next to me needed to forcefully elbow me in the ribs and send me sprawling from my stool.
Despite the screaming pain in my ribs, I scrambled to me feet and quickly assessed the situation. The situation, it turned out, did not look good. Five men, including the brute with the bony elbow, were moving in on me spewing forth harsh staccato Japanese phrases of which I was unfamiliar. The one word I did understand, gaijin (foreigner), made my blood run cold, and I quickly started staggaring backwards to the exit. Just as I reached the door, I saw a fist coming at me from the corner of my left eye and I managed to duck just in time so the solid blow landed squarely on my shoulder. The force of the blow carried me the rest of the way to the door, which swung open quickly as my back slammed against it.
By that time, I was within an arm's reach of lead guy coming at me, and the last thing I saw as I turned and started running down the alley was his hand making a quick swipe to try and catch my shirt. He missed, and I was not about to let him or his friends get another chance to grab me and pummel me to their heart's content.
I ran, and I ran, and I just kept on running until my lungs insisted I give them a respite, a flight that brought me to a busy intersection where a throng of Japanese curiously regarded the arrival of the strange, haggard white newcomer clutching his bruised side and gasping for air. One concerned individual who spoke limited English approached and asked me if everything was okay. I assured him I was fine and he gave me a toothy, friendly smile. I followed the throng for about a block, replenishing my courage and my faith in human tolerance.
Although I never stopped at that station again, the memory of that narrow, dark alley and the shop full of narrow-minded and dark-hearted people stays with me to this day.
My Mind is a Monday Mush
Last night, as I tossed and turned, my mind swirled with a heap of weekend experiences that had to be filed away in that peculiar method unique to the human brain, i.e. dreams. Top among my nocturnal musings was a last ditch attempt by the sports area of my brain (called the athletica oblongata) to try and salvage the Twins' vanquished season. I awoke at 4 a.m. following a dream that replayed last night's ninth inning, an inning when, in my dream, the Twins rallied to win 25 to 13. "Nay," said my waking mind as I wiped away a fresh collection of eye boogers. "The Twins lost last night. They did not rally. Go back to bed and dream of scantily clad women, or the Comedy Central movie Porn N Chicken. By the way, I laughed heartily during Porn N Chicken, but only because I'm a guy a short attention span and a soft spot for low grade porn jokes.
And even as I contemplated such mundane things as the Twins and Porn N Chicken, the rest of the world was still digesting the latest round of terrorist activity, namely, an al Queda attack on a nightclub on the Indonesian island of Bali and a second round of shots fired at U.S. troops in Kuwait. These are both incredible victories for al Queda because, well, um, er, because. . . because. . . give me a second, it will come to me. . . because al Queda really gets off on coordinating meaningless attacks that result in death.
I guess I wasn't too surprised to hear of an attack in Indonesia. After all, that area has been vehemently denying terrorist activity, despite strong evidence to the contrary, since the U.S. started pointing fingers after 9/11. In addition to being a hotbed of terrorist activity, Indonesia is also a paradise that attracts Western interests. And everyone knows that Western interests and terrorist activity go together like Sonny and Cher or Dick Cheney and a Culver's Butter Burger. Suddenly, Indonesia is re-evaluating its stance that it not a haven for terrorists. The deaths of nearly 200 people and the threat of losing a lucrative tourism lifeline will do that to a country.
It's the shooting attacks in Kuwait that I find more ominous. Here's a country that was steamrolled by Iraq 11 years ago, its population raped, tortured and killed, its national wealth spirited away to Iraq, its oil wells torched. It should have nothing but gratitude to the U.N. and the U.S. for pulling its ass out of the fire. And yet, American forces are being shot at in Kuwait.
How do you reason with people who are totally incapable of reasonable thinking? How do you even begin to understand a cause that believes blowing up revelers streaming from a nightclub somehow constitutes a victory? For me, these people aren't terrifying because of their wanton acts of destruction. I'm more terrified that people can actually be conditioned to believe what they believe, and to reconcile those beliefs despite a world of common sense fluttering right before their eyes.
I don't know. Maybe I'm just upset that I'm at work on a Monday morning. Perhaps something more humorous will come creeping its way into my mind later today.
