Monday, January 30, 2006


On Writing Good Song Lyrics



This was an email I wrote to a friend of mine who produces music


We all want to be like the Beatles and Stevie Wonder, myself included, by using abstraction in song and poetry lyrics, where every human on earth can relate to our stoic themes like "Let it be..." "Until the ocean covers every mountain high---I'll love you always." but that's a slippery slope to climb, and I'm beginning to understand I can not pull it off - in the same way NOBODY but Ronald Reagan can stand up in front of the entire world and shout "Mr. Gorbachev Tear down this wall." If any other President had said those brave words at the height of the cold war to the entire Soviet Union, he would have been laughed off the stage. Artists, politicians and others who emulate those sages which preceed them; can't even come close. Examples include Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton and other black reverends whose rhetoric and passion, though practically identical, doesn't compare to the firey brimstone of Martin Luther Kings Jr's - who will make you cry if you just listen to him speak.

Artists like Stevie Wonder are revered because they were pioneers in their genre, and we may by some miracle receive that standing, but it will be by using different methods, different music, and different lyrics. I think we have so far. You say the melody I hummed was too close to Lenny Kravtiz "It ain't over 'til it's over", but this was a fact I disclosed and I realized after I was done conjuring it up. On the contrary, there are common progressions in music; many famous rock and roul / blue artists virtually copied the Bach Conciertos in the 1950s. The first ten notes of "Another old Lang Syn" are identical to the 1812 Overture. However, a vague similarity was not my intention. Neither is yours. Inspiration is a beautiful thing that can create entirely different things altogether.

Most of these lyrics in the video I sent you, like all initial melodic experiments, were improvd, but even if I sat down to think of them, I realize that my lyrical abilities need dramatic impovement. This is frustrating because I know in my writing my skill is in description and anology. But when you're describing a feeling of love, which is usually, in harmony, restricted by ryhme, the lyrics become redudant and sappy - and takes away from the power. I got to thinking about this more...

I think lyrics can be fixed with a little practice and discipline. First, I think songs; all our songs should tell a story. "Juliet" was half way there, but it fell into the same trap - my fault - since I took it away from where I originally thought it would go - it was originally a confrontation and it turned into a longing, bad move on my part. The story needs to be literal. And we are the best writers when we describe our exact surroundings because we instinctually are paranoid on describing them the way they appear to us in the best way possible - we speak in similies and use spatial and time references - which is great. But unless your shakespeare, poetry isn't intuitive nor immediate. We want to put words together and do what first comes to us, because we think that will sound the best - be the easiest and most natural. We value abstraction, because well, something vague can a) be applied to everyone and then they'll relate to it to themselves (Like that Dan Fogulberg song "Another Old Lang Syne" which touched everyone's heart because they also dream of reuinting with their high school sweetheart) and b) because "If it aint' broke don't fix it." But I'm beginning to understand that words do matter and can always be editing and fixed in music (Fogulberg's song, btw, was literally a story about a specific encounter at a grocery store) and the best composition is one that is edited and re-thought and restructured, and I think we can engineer great meaning into those resonant slots, and make them rhyme with time and patience the same way a manuscript is produced.

At this point, If I were to ryhme about that group of 3rd graders playing soccer over there it would sound more powerful that my song about love - because the words wouldn't be so abstract.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Con ███████

I visited ███████ in Siena last Sunday, the girl I was dating for 3 - 4ish years, and who I am still in love with. We started going out on Valentines Day, 2002. I rented a smartcar from Lugano and drove 6 hours south from the alps all the way into the heart of Tuscany. Through winding roads, into tunnels, in the pitch black dark, with crazy Italian drivers whizzing by my at 120 kmh. My smartcar was so small that when I passed or was passed the thing LITERALLY almost blew over. It was scary as hell. I trembled at the wheel, tightended my arms and bit my lip for 400 miles. My vision was not so much blurred as my emotions. It was surreal driving through a foreign country with signs and customs I wasn't aquaitned with, with a manic obession running through my mind to find the girl I love. Love can make you to desperate and crazy things; lift cars and swim across oceans. I believe there are angels watching over me, as I didn't make one wrong turn. Statistical probablity would almost gurantee I would have, since I guessed at about a dozen major intersections. Navigate your way half way through a country in the middle of the night without any currency or knowledge of its language. It took me an hour to figure out how to pump gas. I ran to the nearest ATM, asking italians at McDonalds "Parla Inglese?!" (that's the formal conjugation of "speak."). The sight of a lost and incredibly (rare) American half way inbetween piza and Siena wearing a blue "Italia" tourist shirt in the middle of Tuscany/Nowhere at a McDonalds was enough irony to make Jonathan Swift turn in his grave. I actually ordered a cheesburger from MacDonalds (a regular cheesburger for a 'whopping' 3 us dollars) in American English as I was asking for Directions, and the whole scene made the cashier swell up with pride. (it's kinda like us working at taco bell and geting to practice our spanish by understanding the mexican when he states "Quiero la salsa con mi Taco."

The rub is ███████, although willing to talk and see me, is "not in love" with me anymore. She "Does not find me physically attractive" and "feels uncomfortable" when I call her often or tell her I love her. She "is in love" with another guy who goes to the University of Mass, and who is originally from Ohio, named Jason S████████. When ███████ first got to Umass, the boy had his eye on her, and persisted and persited and persisted ad infinitum, Iming her and emailing her, and inviting her to parties. This was September of 2004, about a year and a half ago. Christmas came, ███████ started feeling different, less strong towards me, I was taking her for granted no doubt, and I assume ███████ was begining to ask some major questions about everything. She wanted to "take a break" in March. I was so busy with my work and the Centurion I really didn't care that much back then. The more distant she became the more attractive to me she became - (And I though she would always be mine). I had once dreamed that she would tease other guys. It turned me on. Then Two weeks later when I called her she admitted she had "slept over" Jason's. From that moment in late March, the jealousy and anguish and pain I have felt in my heart has persisted, weathering me in ways I am so sick of and tired of and teaching me the value of treating a girl right and never letting her go.

But this past summer in DC was fun. Although, we "broke up", I suppose, in May (neither of us had ever done it before so we didn't know what it entailed) we did everything we used to do over the summer, because we were together always. She even visited me down there and we had wine at an Italian restaurant; one of my favorite memories of our relationship. Now I would hope what I am about to say isn't as truley as significant as she made it out to be. She left for France this summer for a month and that is truely when the fulcrom tipped; half-way through france I sent her a poscard, somewhat playfully telling her about the girls I am meeting in DC. She sent me an email I responded to late and told my mother I was ignoring her. She then came to some epiphany in France and when she got back called me immediately. From that moment on things changed indefinitely. From that phone call. I responded "Hi" and acted disinterested, because it was just a moment and I wasn't thinking. She reacted to that and acted disinterested. I told her, because of my silly and stupid attraction to a cute girl at work, that it was OK, I'm kinda interested in someone else. From her end was an all-out bombshell: "I'm Dating someone and am visiting him in Ohio next week."

We had planned to spend a week in DC together, that turned into two days, which turned into a night, well, two hours. And the sexual tension of us being together as "Friends" eventually made her kiss me, yes, while she was "dating" Jason, who... she hadn't even seen yet. I later understood that when I acted disinterested and distant it would turn ███████ on, even while she was with Jason. I'm not so sure if I can pretend that hard or if it's even possible anymore.

When ███████ left for Umass, she kissed me on the lips, told me she loved me, and said she'd see me when we're married 5 years from now. How words so lovely could be so cruel. For I would not see ███████ for another 5 months. I could write a book about the pain and agony during those 5 months, it strangled me and prevented me from doing well academically, it brought me into a miniature depression.

Before I continue the story, let me explain that ███████ needs to be in a commited relationship at all times, with someone. She cannot be alone or looking around. This is part of her mentality and physchology. She used to give a lot, but being a cute girl (and a hot girl when she gets ready to go out to party) in College now, everybody is all over her, and she has started taking; compliments, gifts, "I <3 you!"s guys and girls and 500 friends all over her, wanting her for various reasons. She never had that before. All she had was me, an old fashioned guy with an old fashioned way of doing business and romance. A 21 year old soccer player swooper her off her feet, and seeing him and hooking up with him almost every day, she gave into the temptation, and slept with him, in ya know, that way.

From what I gathered, Jason was not going out with ███████. ███████ wanted to "be in a relationship" with him, but he kept saying no. ███████ didn't like this, because it wasn't the safety and security she needed so desperately. And in early November, after ███████ got done ahving sex with him, another girl called her up and told her that she was hooking up with Jason, as well were a few other girls. BOMBSHELL

███████ cried for days, weeks, ripped up his gifts, cursed him off and joined and online "Jason-HATING" club on facebook (no joke!) Jason wouldn't attempt to contact ███████ but she, so jealous, wouldn't give in. I, looking at her facebook everyday, would monitor her hatred of Jason and her friends reassuring her. 

On that I danced around my room listening to "innocent man" by billy joel, feeling a sense of redemption since I had went out on a "date" (maybe I'm a little hopeful calling tea a date, but I said I'm old-fashioned) with a girl who I thought was cute - meanwhile ███████ was getting "fucked over" by the jock cock she dumped me over. It wouldn't be long before ███████ contacted me with an apology. She did contact me very soon, but what she said I'll never forget

November 11th: "James, it's been a while since we've talked, I just want to tell you Goodbye since I'm goign to Italy" Are you Kidding me ███████?! Goodbye?! How could you??????? You're not leaving for another two months, and I'm going to Europe also!!! And that's after Christmas vacation... and you just got cheated on!!! I never cheated on you, ever! How could you say this.
I was so angry by what she said that I responded with the following statement:
So cruel... so so cruel. You IM me tonight to make you feel better about yourself, "I'm not a cold-hearted bitch?" you ask. You remove youself from my facebook wall, you tell me you won't talk to me because "you're going to Europe." You don't even talk to me now!! Do you realize how much you've hurt me? You can't say anything nice! You expect me to make you feel better about yourself and reasure you?! I just saw on on your profile you were fucked over by Jason S████████. He played you like a piano. YOu left me for a fucking scumbag who cheats on you and fucks other girls, and your poor little heart is broken. Your broke the heart of a caring, charismatic, sensitive loyal boyfriend for a fucking scumbag. Now your dirtied up. How does it feel ███████? I think I'm worth more than that, in fact I know I am, and I'm know other girls know I am as well. So no, I don't want to be friends with you, until you look into my eyes and give me the most sincere apology of your life. Until then, leave me alone.

Well the ███████ who can't be alone was alone at that point, I'm guessing more alone that she'd ever been. ███████ waited around for my phone call that week. And now I know she missed me that week. And I knew there was a good chance she would have taken me back that day if I had just drove up there to see her or told her I missed her. But a man's pride can not allow him take a girl back after she dumped him for another girl. God did I think about her all the time. Every single day I thought that ignoring her would get her back.
███████ could not stand to be alone, and there as persistent Jason sitting outside her door for days, waiting for her to open up. So alone and so confused, ███████ poured out to Jason who just listened and listened - just after I took the LSATS on Dec 3rd ███████ was "in a realtionship with Jason" on facebook, (that evil program).

I called her on christams, unable to take it anymore. She didn't call me back. I wrote her a song. She wrote me one sentence in the email, saying "it was nice." I wrote her a final email pouring out my heart. She said we shoudl meet.

We met the day before she left, and there was a lot of sexual tension. All the anger I felt for so long subsided because I truly still felt for her. I still wanted her, I did'nt care abouit that guy. We flirted alot. I acted disinterested like they tell you do. It drove her nuts. "Why aren't you going after me James? I'm a little surprised"

███████ in her car, told me to hug her, I went in and she kissed me. It felt like heaven but violated every cardinal rule. Sometimes I think it would have helped not to, but ███████ is the type of girl who needs to know the truth and not play games. What happend after felt good for the both of us, and she said, "We still have it." She vowed to see me in Europe. She drove away in her car, just like she had done to me back in August.

I wasn't going to let history repeat itself.

Then she left, I called her my first week here, and her mood changed. What happend was just a moment and she was is in love with Jason. I acted desperate and whiny and she became far more removed. We started emailing. I called her almost every day keeping in touch telling her my feelings, she would treat me like a friend, I guess, no emotion. Finally I just broke down and with trembling desperation told her I will leave her alone but I will always love her.

She called me back an hour later!, but alas, it was only about some message a girl sent her. Why do I still feel so strongly about ███████, when she continues to piss me off, react like a child to such powerful emotion. There is no reason to love, and that is why I drove down to see her


* * * * *

We had a good time in Siena, stayed up all night talking, walked around, took photos together. It was like what we always did. Like nothing had changed. There was no intimacy in our relationship in public anyways. And for those hours, nothing did. But now, I'm still hurt, and I still think about her and Jason. She told me alot about him and her that day, and it hurt alot. 
I'm surprised she wants to go to Amsterdam with me next weekend, and couldn't be anymore excited. Everynight I go to bed I pray that I will meet someone fast and soon but still believe we will end up together in the end.

███████ wants to get married in only a few years, right out of college. She told me she will show the true woman she is to that one special guy, a woman she is gradually now becoming. ███████ is not the sex object she makes her self out to be in party pictures on facebook. She is an innocent flower, who can now truly share truths with herself. She can only share that special part of her with one other person. She was too young to give her soul to anyone while we were together. Now she is coming of age, and when she is 25, she will be the most beautiful thing on this earth.

But She is in love with someone else. And there's no getting passed that. That's the way it is. If I knew the answers in my heart; what to do, how to feel, that would be one thing, but's its forcing yourself to do the right thing as well - its not right to rent a car and drive 7 hours in the middle of the night. It's also not right for us not to date other people. I still have hopes and I still have dreams. 

I just wish ███████ loved me.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.
A Complete Blizzard

It is snowing hard in Lugano. So hard, that they've canceled classes for the first time in 25 years. There is already 4 feet of snow on the ground and it's expected to reach 8 feet by tomorrow morning. That will be a record for this tropical, Italian portion of Switzerland. The locals are constantly emphasizing I am getting the wrong impression about their resort town.. Outside, Palm Trees are covered in puffy white, light precipitation and Audis buzz by with little chains covering their tires, which grip worse than those of an F1 race car.

Much has happened since I last posted. I visited Milan, Italy. Then went Skiing in Adermatt, a large snow covered mountain with hardly anyone on it. At the base was fog and snow, and at the top 10,000 feet above the clouds it was clear skies. Andermatt is one of the first Swiss-German towns you reach after getting through the Gotthard tunnel. Skiing in Switzerland was incredible, conditions were impeccable. Snow is light and dry. The air is always crisp. There is powder if you want it, and packed trails if you want that too. Avalanches only happen in the "bowls" between mountains after fresh snowfall with no previous tracks. I'm actually goign skiing tomorrow with the school, so I may actually enouncter such places. But powder skiing is challenging, espcially in 10 foot drifts. What is so pleasurable about skiing in Switzerland is how wide and long the trails are; no trees. The turns are gentle, there are rolling hills going down. There are few obstacles and few people. And there is an abundance of packed snow. At the end of the day you will still see the tracks from the packing machines, where skis have not yet wandered. Finally, there is the delightful view, something that always looks like a painting. Mountains are so massive and so far away, they just don't look real. The alps look like a background out of a 1980's ninendo game, where your race car curves around, and they're always the same size in the same location. 

With the fresh snowfall now, everything is so beautiful and so romantic. The regulars here rejoice in the beauty, as this is a first for them as well. Foreigners along with the locals, appreciating something new and wonderful. I will post more on this later... as I have something else occupying my mind.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.

Monday, January 16, 2006

Greetings from Switzerland!!!

When I stepped outside to get onto the plane to Lugano in Zurich it smelled like Evergreen Trees. We flew over the alps one hour south, and I saw the famous mountain of Matterhorn, the small plane swerved around a few small mountains, landed and slammed on the breaks. Outside the runway in Lugano Sorrengo, the weather was cold and dry, but very sunny - 45 degrees. Mountains dotted with villas surround you like Walls.
Lugano is the principal city in the southernmost "canton" or state, in the country of Switzerland. The border is literally 5 km away.The Country of Italy surrounds us on both sides. Swiss punctuality (punctuality is a virtue here as the trains are no more than 5 seconds late), efficiency (the Swiss like production but conservation – they charge 25 cents for each of those brown bags at the grocery store), and cleanliness (there is no litter anywhere anytime except for what appear to be bizarre forms of graffiti), are all "compromised" (as the few Germans in the north say) by Italian language, architecture and religion (Catholicism).
It is located in the Canton of Ticino, the only Italian Canton. There are dozens of cantons in Switzerland, each of them with their own governments and customs and laws. Only 8% of the country speaks Italian, but it is the official language here. Almost all the Catholics in the country are here; and it represents a substantial recruitment area for the Swiss Guard in Rome.
The people of Lugano, Switzerland are somewhat different from the typical horn-blowing, goat-herding Swiss-German Stereotypes. But they are still fairly homogenous; they are tall, thin, tan and have brown hair. They are clean and fashionable, most of them wear black. The Young people in the clubs wear soccer apparel, and sequen jeans. There are few students and very few tourists in Lugano and, although accessible, the city seems culturally remote from other multicultural cities like Zurich and Geneva. The college and the city have a "love-hate" relationship, although Franklin college is camouflaged and has only 300 students. Unlike those of other cities, no minorities or immigrants are in Lugano with the exception of maybe a few arabs on visas; tall swiss men do everything from waxing your floor to construction work (the sound of hammers and nails echo through the valley here) to serving you gas to checking your luggage. The Swiss government is very strict. It is against the law to NOT have health insurance; which is ungodly expensive; and you must even ensure your bicycle. The lack of tourists and young people make the place more traditional – The English language is rare and a last resort – the trilingual proprietors at such places as a cell phone stores only resort to speaking English before they verify you don't speak the other three Swiss languages. They frantically inquire "Parlate italiano?........... français..deutsch?!?" Then they laugh, hesitate, look down as if they are ashamed and proceed to speak to me in fragmented English with a strange lisp. Our transaction is successful but akward. Other times people will tell you they don't speak English, while striking a conversation to you in English. Other students attempt a lame "Gratzi" to the Italians after they buy something. I just say "Thank you and Goodbye," and the occasional woman at the cash register smiles at the sight of me, a rare English pale blond.
Little Smartcars, minis, and yes, triumph spitfires, dot the tiny roads here. There are many many Audis, Volkswagens and Fiats. The tiny cars buzz along with electric, turbocharged little engines to compensate for their 1 litre engines and 6 dollar per gallon gasoline costs.
I live downtown 15 minutes away from campus near the lake in what I can only describe as a neo art-deco style condominium called "Florida." The building is made of marble and glass. The room is beautiful with a patio and view of the mountains in the upper window, but I haven't spent much time in that room, and hope not to do so in the future. Due to severe jet lag, I forced myself to stay up 36 hours so I could go to bed at a normal hour. I woke up at 6 am and saw the sun rise to a fog - normal over the lake in warm mornings. The walk to class is 15 minutes up a steep hill to campus, up a residential road along side villas and cottages with shrubbery of that what looks like a rainforest - architecture reminiscent to me of Palo Alto, CA minus 30 degrees.
The temperature is 15 degrees warmer on the lake. Mediterranean air currents end the Lugano winter in late February, and allow for palm trees to grow on the campus ground, now covered in snow. Classes start on Monday.
The swiss love croissants and yogurt for Breakfast. Their spoons are WAY too big for your mouth and their teacup handles woudn't be close to fitting your pinky. You push all doors to get into buildings (even though there is the same damn handle the Americans have). This has led to dozens of frustrating incidents already of new students screaming "I'm locked out!" You strangely, pull doors out as you leave buildings. This has led to cramped wrists. Crosswalks are sacred here, there is much traffic, Alfa Romeo taxis go 80 mph approaching hairpin curves; and they will not swerve if you set foot in the road, let alone jaywalk. I've been told car owners have received damages done to their paint jobs from injured pedestrians. But the Audis will stop on a dime for you if you walk the mile down the tiny 15 foot wide road to that rare crosswalk – they'll even give you a smile as you do so. Similar are the Swiss flight attendants screaming "GET DOWN" like Arnold schwarnegger in the airplane if a passanger barely gets up to scratch their leg while the fasten seatbelt sign is on. He acquiesces, and everyone smiles as usual.
Such behavior represents another famous and universal custom here; Order.
Today we went bowling on the outskirts of Lugano. 13 year old girls were everywhere, dressed like they were 21. For some of them, the only way I knew there age was the guys they were with, who looked like they were 12.
Bowling alleys have bars and gas stations have bars. Everywhere serves alcohol and cigarettes. The pins were easier to knock down that American pins, and the balls had only three hand sizes per weight of ball. I liked that. The air inside is thick with smoke, and everyone young looks like metrosexual. This is my first encounter with many young Europeans. Although most of them were teenagers, I must say that these girls, especially around my age, are very attractive, mainly because of how well the women dress. But after 17, they disappear. The young guys look like greasers. Although the elderly are physically fit, women around 40 or 50 lose the sexy sense of fashion and are not as attractive to me; many of the grandmothers wear fur coats.
One of the Orientation leaders tells me that the relationship between the people at this college and the University of Lugano, which is exclusively local, is not good, because of the language barrier. That surprises me, since most of the students at this American School speak Italian fairly well. They have been living in an Italian City for four years. It’s not about language barriers. People don’t fall in love because of their vocabulary. It is about what is unspoken. It is about attitude. And the American students can’t drop theirs.
While I enjoy being here, I know this is not my home. But I am still fascinated with the Europe and European Women, all who are inaccessible to me by language at least, the language barrier only making me focus more on their look, their manners, and their alienation to me. I am so far absolutely disgusted with the American women at Franklin College, who I do understand, and who I can’t get away from – mostly because internet usage is restricted to the lobbies of the building. This college is the exact opposite of Rutgers – for obvious reasons. If you’ve spoken to me you know my complaints about at Rutgers. But now I’m seeing the opposite and the grass isn’t greener, in campus life respects. I would not want to go here for the campus life value, so far. About 300 people go to this school. There are 20 people that were accepted to the study abroad program. The 5 guys in that program are free-spirited, accomplished, intelligent, reserved and adventurous. Today the rest of the students in my building returned.
The other full-time people at this college so far, I find repulsive, inside and out. First, American girls here are not what I think of as attractive. The vast majority of them are overweight and have red hair. This student body, is at heart, purely American liberal arts. Being in the most abundant, beautiful, unique location doesn’t change their frame of mind one bit. So far, and my judgments may be premature, they blast their cheesy punk music in their dorm villas, gossip, gossip, gossip, about who and who inside of the college, and browse facebook all day long. This is what I want to get away from; and more reason for me to spend less time on campus itself. I am very quiet around them, these college kids are different from the ones in New Jersey at Rutgers. They are incredibly bored; they have a lot of money and a lot of time, and not too much to worry about – they have few responsibilities, not even to themselves.
The girls here are spoiled in a mature way, giving a similar impression one gets when you look at a 12 year old with a 300 dollars cellular phone. Many of them have traveled all over the world, and however spoiled, are culturally savvy, but unsatisfied with their discoveries. At 19, many of these girls, and I do emphasize girls because their desires and hopes are different from men; are bored with cultural abundance; numb to it – but they keep on shopping and traveling, looking to grow up. I think inside, students here miss the Unites States. Their sustenance is their parents, who are located in the US. We Americans are not swiss, and will not become swiss ever, even if by some insane chance they stay here the required 13 years or marry a Swiss. This is because, unlike America, this you must grow up in this country, read its literature you’re whole life, become part of a tradition that is greater than a fashion statement. Inside; they realize their future is the US. It is a sort of elitism for them here, in their paradise. The politics here are ridiculous, and I have purposely chosen not to speak a word to anyone mine, or tell them about my past. Although I mentioned joining the marines to one of them, and the room became very still and uneasy. Few of them are ex-patriots and communists, I suppose because it is fashionable, but it certainly isn’t honest, since they are not impressed with what is here, and are constantly making comparisons with what is implicitly American. University of Lugano and its “Barriers.” Again, my judgments may be premature, but it is cultural difference and its accompanying shock that gives the study abroad experience value; I almost feel bad for these students; their experience does not really deliver them from abstraction- the whole point. We should immerse ourselves in this different cutlure, and yes, for once, follow the doctrine of moral relativism and succumb to a culture and way of life we respect, but is not ours and never truly will be. This will teach us much about ourselves and all we have taken for granted. I think the fact that Rutgers beat the shit out of me made me a better man, a more patient, wise, understanding man. I fought hard and now I realize just how much progress I have made. I dreamed I could go to a tiny liberal arts college for the last four years, and now I am here in the last semester, realizing how far I’ve come. I’m a senior. I’m graduating; earned my experience at a place with little gossip and no coddling.
I intend to visit the University of Lugano and confront these “Barriers;” language and others, etc. face-to-face. I don’t speak a word of Italian yet, and know nothing about this place, and frankly, it’s better that way. All said and done, it’s very easy to stay away from what I don’t like here; we’ll see what happens.
I’m looking forward to going to Milan tomorrow – and mending my heart somehow– which is still broken after I spoke with ███████ yesterday – I’m still in love with her. I cried last night and earlier this afternoon I’m making this a diary as well as a travel guide as I need a place to just stream my consciousness and externalize, I don’t think my 4 readers or so will mind.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Debate on The Iraq War via Facebook

me: A nation is being born in Iraq, a dictator who gassed kurds and tortured innocents has been removed, and a democratic revolution is under way! The USA wasn't exactly Disneyland in 1779 either. Saying that we've failed because things are terrible on the ground now is terribly shortsighted, anti-historical , and utopian. Democracy is hard fucking work, and the people of Iraq will succeed or fail, but their inability to snap their finges and create, fully formed, the democratic institutions it took our nation two hundred years to establish is, in the words of the french, sourd-muet logic While we can't assure peace and justice for the Iraqis, we are giving them a chance for human dignity, which is unfortunately, more than most of you "neo-liberals" think they deserve. When we invade and topple genocidal dictatorships we are doing bad and when we allow genocidal dictatorships we do bad. Ah the moral irony!

him: I've always been against nation buildling You want to actually help ppl Enlist and thrust your conservative support towards ending the massacres in Darfur Saddam Hussein was not a threat to the United States Yes, he was a bad man, but when he was killing the Iranians, he was a good guy, as was the Shah :P The thrust from democracy must come from within I think we could have saved $500 billion by listening to Blix Since I don't control things, let me tell you what I'd do If I were made dictator, I'd raise taxes on everyone who voted for Bush to pay for this war I'd also give all of you the opportunity to go and fight for the freedom of these Iraqis Patience is a virtue Wouldn't it have been better James, to have listened to Blix, and to have let inspections continue, realize Saddam was bluffing, and saved $500 billion and embarassment The easiest case scenario in my mind, is even if you think Saddam has weapons, would be to buy him off It's as simple as that Yes, I am a neo-liberal in terms of foreign policy Take Causes of War and come back to me when you realize that there's no credible way in hell Condi Rice believes what she says Do some research on what it means to be a realist in terms of IR An example of why I hate Bush: As Congress moves to slash $40 billion in spending, no program will take a bigger hit than college loans, where almost $13 billion would be cut over five years. For students, the upshot is mixed. Excessive government payments to banks would be halted, freeing up some dollars for new grants, larger loan limits and reduced loan fees. But overall, the student loan program would endure the largest cut in its history, and most of the money would not be pumped back into education. Instead, under a plan the House approved Monday, the money would be counted only toward reducing the federal deficit James: We both know that a soaking the rich policy is one of the only ways to pay down the deficit In order to stop from raising taxes on the rich, they're going to cut student loans for deserving and needy students Not exactly the best way to build human capital :)...is it!?!! Especially with the US lagging so far behing in science, wouldn't it make sense James, to keep great science students such as myself, shouldn't the US invest money into our education so the US remains #1 in tech. know how? And, by the way James, the USA was fighting a war against another nation in 1779 The war in Iraq is a battle of factions of the nation, it's not the entire populace against the US or against Saddam Further, you seem to forget, speaking of treason, which type of political ideologues fought with the Confederacy and who were the Torries? I always have found it ironic how the American idols of conservatism were all unabashed liberals.

me: Oh Danny Boy, You justify our supposed malfeasence in Iraq with the argument that we shouldn't solve humanitarian crises because... there are humanitarian crises elsewhere. Hmmm. The US has already given 700 million dollars in aid to Darfur, which is infinitely more than other governments are doing. You suggest that US marine involvement in Africa would be a smashing success, but you're an anti-military interventionist, who must confess when you put christian yankees inbetween fighting Arab Sudanese Muslims and Black Sudanse muslims; it makes a mess - innocent people will die in a utilitarian calculus you'll claim is unjust. Bush'll be responsible and the same criticisms and factions and "polls" (if that's what you call them in tyrannical dictatorships) will ring true in Africa just as you say they do now in Iraq... So who ya gonna call? At heart your neoliberalism desires to work through the UN, but they'll just repeat another Srebrenica and Rwanda. Both of which, aw shucks, happened during the clinton administration. (But 'ol Clinton was careful not to use what is called “the G word” about Rwanda, as the U.N. has eschewed it regarding Sudan. There is a Genocide Convention,and uttering that word entails responsibilities.) Back to Iraq: To say that because Iraqis aren't Americans they deserve brutal dictators and genocide seems a little grotesque to me. And please remember, our "occupation" will have to increase its brutality and its duration and its so-called torture to come close to inflicting as much death as Hussein, or any of his factions did. The moral balance is still ours. But especially so because most American soldiers are dying right now following the moral imperative your international relations professor neglected to mention while bashing realism's peccesmistic view of humanity (as well as condi rice); our marines die determing if that Iraqi in that roadside car over there is an innocent woman or child or just an insurgent sick enough to be camouglaged as one. Their death is honor in restraint on their aggressive quest for others' freedom, and is more "virtuous" than your Keohanian, soft-power view of "patience" will ever be.

NJO: Originally posted on the blog Feathers of Steel at liberabit.blogspot.com.