Authors in Focus: Simon Lelic

Okay, so I slipped up there for a few days, and ended the strong writing streak that I had going. But I managed to write something halfway decent yesterday regarding a recent trip to see a Nets game with my son, and it felt good at least to get back on track. This has hardly been what I would consider a "normal" week for me, yet I do want to maintain some semblance of discipline with things like this. That Nets entry was meant to be for two days prior, but since I never got around to it on that day….well, let's just say I'd like to start a new streak now. So, here goes….

I figured that I would do another "Author in Focus" installment, although these cannot come too quickly. There are, obviously, a lot of authors out there, but since I am only one man, and do not even read particularly fast or anything, I do not want to use up all that I have got in this area with quick synopses of various authors, just to produce some filler space. These should be authors who's works influenced and/or impressed me, at least, and preferably, who wrote more than one book that I had actually read. Not that it would be particularly bad if I wrote a review of an author that either produced only one book, or whom I only read one book from. Just that, all in all, it is a further mark of how much of an impact they had on me, if I have read more than one of their books. Reading a book takes time, usually, and thus, choosing to spend that much time with an author means that I was impressed with their writing style, their message, both, or some other aspect, perhaps, of their writing. Maybe a fascinating subject, or maybe some other thing that drew me to them.

Whichever way, it is something that I would like to continue, and so here I am, once again. Today, I will focus on an author who has an amazing writing style, writes about some stimulating subject matter, and seems to have a message that I can appreciate. That is a rare author, and his name is Simon Lelic.

I read what was perhaps his most famous work, the one that he is usually associated with, which was called "A Thousand Cuts" here in it's American release, but is evidently known as "Rupture", to my understanding, in his native Britain. My mom, who usually makes strong reading recommendations for me, opened my eyes to this one, saying that she felt I would really like it.

She was right.

In fact, this was an amazing book! It was so very well written, with incredible insight and intelligent commentary throughout. He is effective in taking a "real" perspective from many different angles, if you will, capably taking on different narratives from very different characters, including a reclusive and tortured young teacher who does not fit in, his frustrated girlfriend and fellow teacher, a rival gym teacher who is your big, typical dumb jock type, a female police officer investigating a school shooting while dealing with sexual harassment in her own life, a rather stiff and unbending school Principal, and some immature and out of control teenagers. Lelic does an amazing hob of leading you in one direction initially, then eventually swaying you in the other direction, showing an entirely different side based upon who is speaking and has a very different perspective. All of the people talking are, essentially, discussing or interviewing with the female police officer, who is able eventually to piece together what has happened and find the real party responsible for how the situation grew so out of hand. In the meantime, she manages to discover something of her own situation with the harassment at her job, and is able to confront her tormentor towards the end of the book.

It is truly an amazing read.

The second work that he wrote was called "The Facility". It is not yet available in the United States (at least not to my knowledge, anyway). I had gotten it as a Mother's Day gift, I believe, for my mom, but when she finished reading it, she allowed me to read it.

You could definitely see the strengths of the author in it, and his style was similar enough to the first book to know it was him. That said, the subject matter almost could not have been more different than the first book.

It focuses on modern politics, essentially. Britain has built for itself a concentration camp on it's own soil, and it is at the ready in the event that it is ever needed. Of course, the occasion arises, as an outbreak of a strange and highly communicable disease makes the British government take quick action in detaining a number of their citizens.

One of the men taken, much to his surprise, does not know what is going on. He has been worried about being perceived as homosexual, although he is not. He feels he might be forgotten in here, that nobody knows, or worse, perhaps nobody cares, that he is here, with no way of getting in touch with the outside world.

When his ex-wife notices that something is definitely off, she approaches Tom, an investigative journalist, who then proceeds to uncover more and more about this mysterious British concentration camp.

Not surprisingly, this becomes a dangerous game, the closer he gets to finding out what he needs to find out. All the while, he finds himself strongly drawn to this ex-wife, and wants to get closer. The feelings are reciprocated, and just as they begin to get closer, the game grows considerably more dangerous.

            It is a novel of government secrecy, of insecurities, self-preservation, of power and ideology, and of people that, although not real themselves, are real enough.  It is a story about silence, and what often goes unreported or, perhaps even, unnoticed. Different from his first novel, to be sure, but still very strong.

            He has come out with another novel, for that matter, and I just found out about it while doing a bit of research for this piece. It is called "The Child Who", and so I will look to find out more, and perhaps even get my hands on a copy, if at all possible. Lelic is definitely an author worth exploring more!

Jersey Strong, Brooklyn Ready

I had kind of forgotten about the impending move of the Nets from New Jersey to Brooklyn. In part, I believe that this was because of the delays in actually bringing the arena and everything about, since it was mired in controversy, and had it's fair share of opposition, to say the least. It seemed it was being put on the backburner, and so mentally, I guess I did, as well.

Had not heard any developments or anything for quite a while, and more or less forgot about it, I suppose.

Then suddenly, in this, the strangest of all basketball seasons, I heard that this would be the last season for the Nets in New Jersey. They would finally be moving to Brooklyn, as promised now for the greater part of the decade. I heard about it, if memory serves correctly, just before this strike shortened season was about to begin, and it was a sports writer who was making fun of the new logo and sentiment. It is, obviously, a difficult and unique situation, with the Nets knowing for years that they were making the move, and then, finally, knowing this in particular would be the last season in Jersey before they finally go off to the big city. What the sports writer made fun of was the official logo for the Nets in this departure year:

Jersey Strong

Brooklyn Ready

Yeah, not exactly the most inspiring words, right? Where is Shakespeare when you need him?

So, with the final season impending, and apparently a lull in enthusiasm among Jersey fans, understandably, I figured this might be the opportune time to catch a few games, while the Nets were still available. For someone from New Jersey, like me, hardly anything beats the convenience of actually seeing an official, professional sports team, with seats readily available and relatively cheap. I have taken good advantage of it over the years, as well.

I saw probably dozens of games over the years, starting with the first Nets game I ever saw back in the spring of 1994, when the mediocre Washington Bullets (they were still known as the Bullets, and not the Wizards, back then), took on the crappy team from New Jersey, the Nets.

There were a few years between that and the next time around, but I was able to see them over the course of many years, against some incredible opponents, including the historical 1995-1996 Chicago Bulls with Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman and Phil Jackson, the only team in basketball history to have reached that amazing 70 win plateau in a season (they finished the season at 72-10, and 87-13 overall, including their championship playoff run). I saw the Houston Rockets during their glory days of Hakeem Olijuwon and Clyde Drexler, and even eventually Charles Barkley. The San Antonio Spurs during the days of David Robinson "The Admiral" and Tim Duncan, and eventually Ginobli and Tony Parker (a fellow Frenchman!). The Lakers of Kobi Bryant and Shaquille O'Neal (as well as Phil Jackson), and more recently, the Lakers with Kobi and Gasol. There were many other stars and teams that I saw.

The greatest single game that I saw was a playoff game against the Indiana Pacers in 2002. It was Game 5, the final, deciding game in an intense series. The Pacers, perennial contenders, two years removed from an NBA Finals, with Reggie Miller, one of my favorite players, and perhaps arguably the most explosive and the most exciting player during that era, outside of Michael Jordan. I even think he might have been more exciting to watch than Jordan during the playoffs, when he caught fire.

On that fateful day, he caught fire.

It was a back and forth game. The Pacers, with superior experience, had hung in there against a rising Nets team throughout the series, and they were doing the same in the deciding Game 5.

The Nets had enjoyed their best season in decades, and were among the first rated teams in the league. They were the top seed in the East, but had not won a playoff series in 18 years, and had long seemed a cursed franchise. Enter Jason Kidd, and their fortunes changed dramatically. Long seen as a young and potentially strong team for the future, the future was suddenly now. They were the top seed, and with the top seed, it seemed the opportunity to finally make their mark.

Most top teams usually easily dispatch easily with their first round opponent, but the Indiana Pacers were hardly a typical first round opponent.

Although the Nets seemed to be the better team throughout he season and most of the series, as well as the game, the Pacers hung in tough, forcing a deciding Game 5, and then holding on, just barely, into late into the fourth quarter. Still, they were down by three points with seconds left and time rapidly expiring in regulation. Reggie Miller was surely getting old and would not be able to save the day, right? After all, by now, everyone knew about the past, especially against the cross river Knicks, and so they knew not to give him a look from beyond the three point arc, right? Right?

Wrong. Miller sank an awkward looking three just before the time expired, forcing the game into overtime.

Okay, so the Nets would have to regroup, remain calm, and beat the Pacers in overtime.

But the Pacers still hung tough. Despite everything the Nets threw at them, the Pacers were, once again, down with one shot remaining with seconds left to try and preserve their season. Surely, this would be it, and history (even very recent history) would not repeated itself, right? Right!?

Wrong again. The ball found Miller once again, and he put up another shot that looked awkward, and surely would not go in. Of course, if you're reading this, you know better, right? The ball went through the basket, no problem, and the game went into a second overtime! An elimination game living up to it's billing! Reggie Miller at his best, and for such incredibly high stakes!

Finally, in the second overtime, the Nets did calm down, and played up to their potential, which finally, finally was more than enough to rather overwhelm the Pacers, who by then were exhausted with the uphill fight and had little left in the tank. This time, the Nets made sure that they did not leave enough room for Miller to pull off last second heroics yet again. The got the victory, in the game and thus, in the series, and won their first playoff series in almost two full decades!

My favorite Nets memory, and one of my favorite sports memories of all, period!

In any case, I had largely forgotten that this was going to be the Nets last season in Jersey until just recently. Once I remembered (for whatever the reason, I can't think of what triggered this memory at the moment), I checked, and found tickets generally readily available. So then, it was mostly a matter of just checking the availability of tickets, and finding the best seats for the best price, or the best deal possible. It seemed relatively easy, actually.

Later that day, naturally, I got in a car accident. That's not all that funny, and suddenly, spending money on tickets seemed like a bad idea, in retrospect. But I had already purchased them, and you can't go back in time, right?

The first game was for this past Wednesday, a the Nets hosted the Los Angeles Clippers. The Nets had been among the worst teams in the NBA for many decades, prior to their brief flirtation with greatness in the early 2000's, when they made two consecutive NBA Finals, losing both, unfortunately, first to the Lakers, then to the San Antonio Spurs.

The Clippers, on the other hand, have traditionally been one of the rare teams that were even worse than the Nets overall.  Of memory serves correctly, they were voted the worst sports franchise in history by Sports Illustrated. Their ineptitude has been legendary, in fact. Year after year, they struggled, and their owner was this weird, evidently closet racist guy. Almost everything about the franchise seemed to spell disaster.

So perhaps it should come as no surprise that their fortunes would eventually change. After all, of all the major sports, basketball relies most heavily on having just a few really good guys on your team. Get 2 or 3 stars in hockey, put them in your first line, and you still have three other lines to worry about, plus the distinct possibility of injury, since hockey is such a violent sport. Get 2 or 3 stars in football, and injury also remains a distinct possibility, more probably than basketball, although not necessarily hockey. But with 53 players on the roster, and specifically 11 starters on offense, and then 11 on defense (and that does not include special teams!), 2 or 3 stars will not necessarily yield a winner. In baseball, 2 or 3 superstars might get you more results. But again, if the rest of the lineup is not that strong, it will not be enough to necessarily field a contender.

In basketball, however, 2 or 3 stars will probably make you an instant contender. Look at the 2008 Boston Celtics, or last season's Miami Heat. Or this year's Los Angeles Clippers. Acquiring 2 or 3 stars will likely change your fortunes, perhaps even dramatically. At the very least, it will help you draw attention and sell some jerseys and tickets.

The Los Angeles Clippers acquired Blake Griffen through the draft, and then, just before this season started, managed to snag Chris Paul. They were already an improving team, but the addition of Chris Paul suddenly had people talking about them being a potential NBA Finals team, and at least being a serious candidate for the best basketball team in Los Angeles, which is hardly an easy title to acquire. So, just like that, this team seemed red hot, with a flashy dunker and a proven winner. People expected great things.

As the early March game in Jersey approached, the Clippers had a very strong record, and looked to be fulfilling many people's high expectations of them. While the Lakers were reeling and seemingly aging in a hurry, going in the wrong direction, the other Los Angeles team was doing magnificently well.

 I was eager to see them.

The thing is, they were a very flashy team. I mean, extremely flashy. I could see why people like them – and a lot of people seemed to be pulling for them at the Rock on Wednesday, despite how traditionally horrendous the franchise has been for a very long time. Indeed, their very flashiness has changed their image, altered the perception of them from losers to up and coming winners. That said, they were a little too flashy for my tastes, at least bordering on style over substance, seemingly. They could be fun, but I do not think that style is built to last. At least not through the playoffs. Could be wrong, but it would be a bit surprising.

Anyway, the Nets, donning their throwback blue "New York" jerseys from decades ago (could it be considered a sign of disrespect towards New Jersey that they were already comfortable wearing "New York" jerseys?), played a solid game. Considerably less flashy than the Clippers, and not getting nearly as many ooooh's and aaaahh's from the sellout crowd, perhaps, but far more effective. They built up a solid lead, and at one point, even led by eighteen points.

Jordan Farmar was having an especially good game. It seemed that, at least on that day, everything he touched turn to gold, and he was a large part of the reason the Nets found themselves in control of this game for so long.

To their credit, however, the Clippers showed that they were more than a flash in the pan, and clawed their way back into the game. They kept on closing the margin, until suddenly, late in the fourth quarter, they managed to even things up. Then, very late and with little time remaining, the Clippers took a lead in the game, for the first time since early in the first quarter.

Closing time, right? After all, this is the Nets, and if they have traditionally been better than the Clippers, it was by default. New Jersey has not had a winner in some time now, and this team surely would choke and lose the game, squandering the big lead, right?

Down 100-98 with less than ten seconds remaining on the clock, Deron Williams had the ball and was trying to approach the paint, make something happen, either generating a double team and then feed the ball to someone wide open, or perhaps find some magic on his own. A Clipper managed to seemingly take the ball away, but it was kicked away accidentally, thus providing the Nets with a scare, but with still one more opportunity to either tie it or win it.

The ball went again to Williams, who got double teamed indeed, and managed not only to find a wide open Jordan Farmar, but to feed it to him brilliantly, under immense pressure. Farmar, who had been on fire all night, got a wide open look, and from behind the ark, managed to sink the winning three-pointer, with 0.2 seconds left. The Clippers technically had a chance, but with so little time, it would have taken a miracle, and there were no miracles left in this game. Nets win, 101-100.

It was especially fun to go with my son to see such a game as this! He enjoyed it, although he was impatient and thirsty and driving daddy crazy by asking for a drink every ten seconds, even though we had just eaten (and drank) on the way there prior to the game. Still, it was a good memory to share with him, even though we left too early to actually see the end in person. It was, after all, a school night, and no matter how thrilling a sports team might be, school comes first, n'est ce pas?

Nice to see the Nets win, even if they are only playing for pride, and even if they are hardly sending New Jersey off with the top quality basketball, or a run to, let alone in, the playoffs. Still, a win is a win, and this might have rivaled the Pacers playoff game back in 2002 (just about a decade ago now!) for favorite Nets game memory, under different circumstances. A great game, and very enjoyable!

Authors in Focus: Mark Mathabane

I am going to add a new segment to these writings, and will call it "Authors in Focus", and go a little deeper into the works and styles of particular authors. First one up is not as famous as some of the other authors that I regularly read: Mark Mathabane.

Mark Mathabane is an author who was best known for his work, "Kaffir Boy", a 1980's book which was an autobiographical piece that focused on the author's upbringing as a black youth during the days of apartheid in South Africa. The book came out in the middle of a decade when the officially racist policies practiced in that nation, as well as in illegally occupied Namibia (then called South West Africa), became more or less the focal point for activists around the world, in a decade when activism seemed almost a dead thing otherwise. The anti-apartheid movement became a cause célèbre, and names like Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela were immortalized. There were concerts and movies, albums and much music, protests and organized boycotts, even economic divestments, all in favor of bringing down the apartheid state.

Yet, despite all of this well-intentioned activism, it was also greatly misunderstood. Many people on the outside viewed it simply as good and bad, black and white. In reality, South Africa was, and always has been, far more complex. Even then system that came to be known by the name of apartheid itself had a more complex history than met the eye. In truth, there were layers to the system, and it's history. For anyone who wanted, or still perhaps wants, to understand it more, it was important, if not crucial. To understand these layers, and the complexities and specifics that really allowed apartheid to survive for as long as it did. After all, there is an interesting question as to how a relatively small group of whites managed to dominate everything in a large country in which they were a small minority, on a continent where they were even a smaller minority overall.

It took a lot of reading to understand the situation better, and a lot of reading on the subject of South Africa I have done. It all started back in the 1980's, when apartheid still was an active issue, and when this book, "Kaffir Boy", and it's sequel, "Kaffir Boy in America", were the first books that I really read on the subject, and served, on many levels, as my introduction to South Africa and apartheid. The term "kaffir" is of Arabic origins, meaning "infidel", and is the equivalent in South Africa of the American derogatory word "nigger". Mathabane's title of his book, "Kaffir Boy", is meant to call into mind Richard Wright's "BlackBoy".

In truth, I read the second book first, because that was the one my mom owned at the time. I eventually got my hands on a copy of "Kaffir Boy" itself, yet both books fascinated me at the time. A few years ago, I decided to reread the books, and it was truly amazing how different books can be when you read them decades apart. There were some parts that I remembered, but even these seemed entirely different, almost. I would remember certain parts, yet seemingly out of context.  Still, these works were very informative, and fascinating. At a time when I was a struggling student in junior high school and high school, learning about certain things completely unrelated to school (like apartheid in South Africa) were the only signs of a greater intellectual ability and overall world curiosity that I was to show, and at the time, I probably lacked the creativity and bravery to tie these into my academic life. I kept such personal studies almost completely separate from school (with one exception that I can remember), although it could have been put to good use, and likely, I would have benefitted strongly. Alas, you live and you learn, right?

Mathabane's childhood was in a black township called "Alexandra", on the outskirts of Johannesburg, and entirely surrounded by white suburbs. It was a town that was severely overcrowded, and if memory serves correctly, a one square mile ghetto with around 100,000 people living in it. Many of the homes were hastily built shacks, which the police would often ear down as illegal (a common practice throughout South Africa in the days of apartheid), and which the people living in them would often just as quickly rebuild.  It was a world of dire poverty, with menial jobs and meager salaries, of substance abuse, violence (from both blacks inside of the townships, and the white establishment outside of it), poor education and even poorer prospects. When reading this book, it becomes clearer just how difficult, if not virtually impossible, life had become for the black majority inside of the country, and just how hopeless young blacks in the country felt. For that matter, it provides insight into just why it was very much a youth movement in the country, with such an enormous amount of youth disaffection throughout.

But you also catch a glimpse of a different world, and begin to understand how whites in the country were so cut off from the blacks. In a country where the white minority government controlled almost everything, including the media, there was hardly any real news of blacks at all, and thus, even less understanding (and thus, sympathy) towards the plight of blacks. Many whites remained completely oblivious of the protest movements and the funerals (which became de facto protests once gathering of large groups of Africans became outlawed), even when they only lived a few miles away. Keep in mind, the world of white and black remained strictly separate on many levels, and did not go beyond the relation of master and servant on any real level. Blacks were given only an education that was adequate enough to prepare them for labor at the service of whites, while whites were given an obviously superior level of education, and were groomed for lives of luxury and indulgences. There was a point when South African whites surpassed even wealthy southern California for the highest standard of living on Earth, while blacks as a whole remained relegated to the background, mired in poverty and only glimpsed this better life enjoyed by the whites while working for them, cleaning their homes or sculpting their garden or cleaning their streets or mining their gold and precious resources. Blacks might assist white police officers. But there was nothing resembling equality or a sharing of the wealth.

That much was understood by most people. However, there were layers to apartheid that were far more complex, because what I just explained in that last paragraph, though true, was also only half of the story, if that. It does not explain everything, and it certainly does not explain how a small minority of whites that was shrinking in terms of percentage of the population could control a growing black majority, on a black continent. Having read quite a bit on South Africa over the course of the decades (the subject has continued to fascinate me even to the present, almost two decades since the official dismantling of apartheid), I think I can save the room for more specifics for some later entries.

While "Kaffir Boy" focused on his upbringing in South Africa and gave the reader a glimpse of the loud and violent, as well as often the more subtle and mental, oppression of the racist system, and trying to persevere through it all, the follow up book, "Kaffir Boy in America", is about the author's escape, if you will, into the United States, on a tennis scholarship, sponsored by former tennis superstar Stan Smith, an American who met Mark Mathabane during a tournament in South Africa.

Mathabane leaves South Africa, and goes into some of the racist aspects of the society that he is hoping to leave behind him, such as the unpaved roads of the black townships suddenly yielding to the paved roads of the white communities, and then being seated next to a privileged white South African, who pretends to be sympathetic and interested, and almost slips by referring to some of the blacks that he knows (who work for him as servants, naturally) as "boys".

Mathabane has realized his dream and come to America, where he knows about the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and that there is no legal segregation. Yet, it pains him to find that racism is quite evident here, as well, and he also finds that the United States, far from being an idyllic utopia, had its' share of problems, as well. He learns about the Jim Crow segregationist system that is similar to that of South Africa, and that had existed in the recent past, but has since been outlawed. It comes as a shock to him that many Americans are not as well educated or enlightened as he had imagined, yet he remains happy for the opportunity to be here throughout and remains hopeful.

On a personal level, Mathabane soon has to admit that he will not be a tennis superstar, as many people had come to believe, and he struggled to find a new identity, and justification, for his life in this land, so far away from the one he knew in South Africa. But he manages to find his niche in writing, and eventually even manages to successfully get his family to visit the United States, and to get younger siblings to come to school here, and to obtain greater opportunities, nonetheless, than would have been available to them in their native country, where they would officially be relegated to second class citizenship, at best (more on this specifically, in some later entry).

Again, I read both of these books when I was still only a teen, and then reread them more recently, as a full fledged adult (I also wrote "Miriam's Song" more recently), and enjoyed it each time, although the author does seem a bit on the preachy side in "Kaffir Boy in America". Still, they are good reads, and I would like to obtain copies of his other books, sooner or later, in order to read these, as well. He has a strong writing style, and has the power to make his world come alive through words, and was my first real introduction to understanding the realities of South Africa on a deeper level. 

"I know, I know!" Do you know anyone like this?

This past weekend, which was a rough one admittedly, there was a guy at my job that was to come in for training.

Although I did not really train him in any direct manner, as the weekend supervisor, it was my duty to meet the guy, and to provide him not only with a welcome to the site, and to my shift, but also to give him some brief rundowns and reviews of the site, particularly as it is on the weekends.

Not a big deal, right?

The thing is, the supervisor on before me, who I relived from duty, warned me about him, saying that he was "a bit weird". Since he is hardly the type of guy to talk smack about anyone, it kind of raised my eyebrows a bit. I wanted to meet this "weird" guy, who I would soon enough be working with regularly.

Well, I met him, and indeed, "weird" is the best word to describe him, I think. He just strikes you as odd in almost every way, once you meet him. He seems to be the type of guy that will both impress you and unimpress you in the same sentence, if you know what I mean. He was an "expert" on everything, it seemed. Maybe a jack of all trades, and a master of none, if you will. Not just with the job, but with everything. It seemed that he expected you to listen to what he had to say, and not question him, no matter what it was that he was talking about.

Allow me to explain.

When I first started on the job, I was receiving training as a supervisor along with this other guy, who was going to be more of a floater, on a part-time basis. I, in the meantime, was going to be working full-time, and would be a weekend supervisor on Sundays, specifically.

In any case, this guy I was training with was a real braggart. I mean, to the extreme. Some of the stories about his bragging were legendary, and you might be hard pressed to believe them if you heard them. Yeah, that out there. He was loud and boisterous, to say the least. And one of these ludicrous traits, if you will, was to pass off any information received during his training by mentioning that this was all redundant to him, that he was well aware of all of this stuff already, and that you were preaching to the choir, in essence. This he did even with crucial things, and in particular, with the fire panel.

Now, we all know that fires and fire alarms are among the most serious things that a building might find itself under at any given moment, right? So, you might think that someone who will be accountable for answering might be attentive, because if ever put to the test, you had better show results. Apparently, not everyone agrees, because me fellow trainee interrupted the guy that was training us on this, the most important of all of our training, and claiming that he knew "exactly" what to do with this system, because his previous job site had the exact same system, and he was completely comfortable and familiar with it. The guy training us looking at him, shrugged, and moved on to the next thing. I requested more training on it later, but held my tongue at the time.

Fast forward a few months, or maybe even just a few weeks. This guy I trained with and I were on shift, and an alarm goes off. We manage, but he at one point looked at me, shrugged himself then, and said "I don't remember them training us on this thing", and just left it at that. I thought to myself, "What an idiot!"

Well, by now, you probably understand what was weird about this guy on the weekends. No matter what you might say or do, this guy, let's call him Andrew, knew it already. He was the type of guy that wanted to impress you, and moreover, wanted to impress upon you that he was at least as qualified not just to do his job, but to do yours, as well. He literally would cut people off as they were providing some of the basics about the site, and claim he was more than familiar enough with these things, based on some of his past job experiences. In short, he seemed more focused on impressing than on learning and, much like the guy I trained with so many years ago, he would surely point the finger of blame on the one(s) he received training from if he encountered a situation where he was unsure of what to do. Obviously, it was not much fun to train him, and I just hope that I am wrong about my gut feelings here. 

Maintaining Walls of Separation To Break Down Walls of Separation

Thomas Jefferson once wrote that "religion is a matter which lies solely between man and his God, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship."

I am inclined to agree. Presently, in much of the world, there has been a tendency towards quite the opposite, with a loud, aggressive, and militantly righteous religion is being imposed upon people. We see the rise of Islamic Republics in the Islamic world. Iran was the first, but certainly not the last, and not even the most extreme. Afghanistan was the most extreme example, with the Taliban's reign of terror and tragedy. Now, it looks like Egypt is ready to take the plunge and hand itself over to the religious extremists.

But we do not have to go so far away from home o see inappropriate levels of mixing government and religion, which has traditionally been kept separate throughout American history. We are seeing challenges from prominent, and potentially dangerous, political and religious voices alike right here at home.

The most notable example as of late has been Republican Presidential candidate Rick Santorum, who has been giving Republican frontrunner Mitt Romney a serious challenge for supremacy in the Republican Presidential race. He claims that he wanted to vomit after hearing a speech by John F. Kennedy essentially praising the strict wall of separation between church and state, and vowing his own efforts to maintain and respect the divide.

By contrast, Santorum has been maintaining that there has never really been a separation between church and state in America, and is doing everything that he can to blur the lines between the two.

Santorum is very vocal about other things, as well. He has shown himself to be quite the homophobe. He has mentioned that Satan seems to be playing a prominent role in the United States that he sees. He has proven to be staunchly pro-life, or anti-choice, and is willing to proceed with attempts to curtail a woman's right to an abortion. He even seems to oppose contraceptive to avoid pregnancies. Naturally, he is not so vocal about government programs to assist such children once they are brought into the world – unless they are raised to believe what he believes in. Unless they belong to his social network, to his church. This is the guy that is giving Mitt Romney the most serious challenge for the Republican nomination?

It is a sign of direction that this country has been going for many, many years, frankly. I will admit to not being surprised.

More extreme times yield more extreme results. So is it really surprising that hard-line religion is making such a strong comeback? It is a throwback to an earlier era, and as such, none of the ideas that are being presented within this framework are new or even fresh.

It is generally understood that religion not only comes into conflict with government, but also with science and progress. Those who are prominent authorities in any given religion fight hard against scientific evidence that increasingly pushes religion into the territory of mythology in the process of revolutionizing the world, and perhaps we are simply witnessing a counterrevolution, so to speak. Clearly, many religions feel threatened by science, to the point of refuting what is right in front of their eyes. That is a major problem with religion, of course: that what is advocated is "faith", and that this can come at the expense of facts.

Yet, I believe that it is a bit more complicated than that, even. Too much belief in any institution or system or set of beliefs or " faith", if you will, can be a dangerous thing – and I am talking about things outside of religion. It is a recipe for disaster. Here, I am specifically referring to excessive beating of the drums for a nation (such as the United States, presently), or for an ideology (capitalism and the "free market" system). When we get too mired in one set of beliefs, in one way of doing things, then we begin to come dangerously close to matching the traditional religious viewpoint of being infallible, the way Catholics believe that the Pope is infallible – eve when history has proven otherwise. Even when some popes have contradicted one another. Again, what is right before your eyes does not matter.

In the United States, people have gotten overly self-righteous about a set of beliefs. Among these are that the United States is the greatest country in the world, as many American exceptionalists suggest. Also among these, is that capitalism and the free-market advocates and those who favor increased deregulation (usually, these are one and the same) are entirely correct on every level, and that government "intervention" is a bad thing, because government is the problem, that government is almost automatically evil and to be approached with a high measure of skepticism, as Reagan stated and every conservative since has repeated like a puppet.

There is another separation between different styles of institutions that is being breached, and perhaps it is time to maintain this strict separation, to reinforce it. I am talking about the separation between corporation and state, because that is getting very dangerous.

There are laws in the books about the conflict of interest when a government official has too close ties with some corporations, and there are other laws in the books regulating the power of corporation. But in the United States, as indeed in much of the industrialized world, deregulation has been the flavor of the moment, and everyone's favorite word. It has become such a popular term, that it is almost like a political football of sorts.

People are only now truly waking up to the dangers of allowing corporate culture too much power and influence. It may just be every bit as dangerous as too much influence by religions.

Institutions in general are dangerous. Give a group of people power, and it will not be long before they are accused, often quite legitimately, of being abusive and overstepping their authorities and of not knowing, or recognizing, or acknowledging, their boundaries.

If we are ever going to be able to truly overcome the divisions that stand between us as groups of people – divisions between race, between sex, between sexual orientation, between nationalities, between religious beliefs, between rich and poor, between really any manner of differences that exist between groups of people, really, than we need to stop thinking in terms of groups that we belong to. It may be comfortable to belong to a certain group, and then to believe what many in that group believe.

Yet, if we yield to this instinct, we are also yielding our individual identities, and our ability to think for ourselves. We are also cutting ourselves off from the rest of the world, and risking our own world view being too small and narrow, and too highly impacted by that group, or perhaps even groups, that we belong to.

I am not saying we should not recognize our differences, or that we should not take pride in what nation or religion or even sex we belong to. Of course we can, and perhaps even should. But like all things, we should not go too far with it, and should keep a good head on our shoulders. In other words, we cannot get so wrapped up in these things that we no longer see anything outside of them. That includes our nationality, our sex, our sexual orientation, our race, our religion, and our beliefs.

We should not abandon our individual identities and the ability to think independently so easily as we have. Especially given that these are not "normal" times. Some things are just too important to allow them to fall away into the background. It is more critical than ever to maintain a strong and sound mind, to exercise it, and to examine this world with a critical eye. It helps to do this if we do not have our view obstructed with beliefs or institutions that obstruct our view when we are too close to them.

A Note of Thanks

Yes, I am aware that it is early March, and not late November. Yes, I am also aware that I have written in that past that I will try and steer clear of writing about specifically personal stuff in my life.

That said, something happened to me over the weekend that kind of can throw that off a little bit, and it has honestly been hard not to think about it since it happened. I was in a car accident, which was deemed, perhaps correctly, my fault.

As I was turning into my job's parking garage, I noticed the shape of a car approaching fast. It was 1:30 at night, and simply put, I did not see the headlights. Either they seemed dim (if not off), or maybe I am just getting old. One or the other, I guess.

In any case, whoever's fault it was, it does not change the fact that it happened, that I knew once I finally saw her that it was going to end badly. It is a moment that none of us wants to have, and once you go through something like that (as I have on more than one occasion now), it is hard to get it out of your mind. That last moment, when you know something bad is about to happen, that collision is inevitable, and yet you are still praying against hope that it can somehow, somehow be avoided. Then the moment of impact, that sickening first thud. Being thrust forward with a violent jerk (so violent, that some of the stuff in the back flew to the front seats! That instant regret (amazingly, I did not really feel shock when it happened, only disappointment, and fear of what I was going to do now).Only later, did I kind of go through the motions, like a deer caught in the headlights. On some level, I guess I am still there, still thinking about all of those unanswered questions yet. Still worrying. Still cursing my own stupidity. Still wondering why I stopped at the Pathmark by work when I did, or why I did not stop and get the coffee that I had wanted to get elsewhere. Why, in other words, ws I precisely at that spot at precisely at that time, where an accident was waiting, a date with destiny, so to speak? Why, why why?

But I have done some thinking, and as much as I say it to myself, but often lose sight of it in my more normal life,  it is also a time to be thankful, as well. Thankful, because although bad things (like the accident) inevitably happen every now and then, it could nonetheless have been far worse. I still have my health. I still have people close to me in my life, who have helped me out through this already, as well. I still have my two jobs, and thus, a steady income. Although it is difficult to juggle so much stuff, there are still options for me, possible solutions, and I have faith that I will find something that works. I am thankful for my resourcefulness, as well, come to think of it. I am thankful to be writing this piece right now, instead of in some hospital bed, had the accident been more serious. I am thankful that the other driver, and her passenger, were not evidently seriously hurt themselves. I am thankful that my son was not in the car with me at the time. I am thankful that my car, although probably too far gone to be salvageable, nonetheless lasted for over 320,000 miles, many of them driven by me over the last three or so years.

We get wrapped up in life all too often, and lose sight of some of these more simple blessings that seem more often than not to be taken for granted. When something happens that rocks us out of our comfortable existence (like what happened this weekend), it could be a real eye opener, as well. So, although I am not happy about the accident, I guess I am thankful to have the wherewithal not to simply give up, and to have what I would like to believe is a healthy perspective following such inevitable nasty surprises that life will throw in our direction every now and then.

Book Review: Cell 8

Cell 8 was a very good read.
Recommended to me by my mom, who had read it before, it is more than a simple thriller, or some work of fiction. It also delves into many important topics, and explores the different attitudes between Sweden, and perhaps the European Union nations overall, versus the United States on jails, punishment, and particularly capital punishment. That is to say, of course, the death penalty. But it also asks important and piercing, critical questions about the overall attitudes and different approaches towards crime and punishment in the United States and Sweden.
We all know that prisons are growing in the United States, that there are more and more prisons, and that means, of course, more and more prisoners. Also, of course, the death sentence, which used to be illegal in the United States, and which still is illegal in European Union countries, such as Sweden, was reinstated some decades ago, and remains a soar and divisive topic for many. Like much else, people hold strong opinions about these things, and the different approaches are argued equally vehemently on both sides of the debate.
It was noted, and judged harshly by many on this side of the Atlantic, that in another Scandinavian country, Norway, the police took a long time to respond to a massive shooting on an island some distance from Oslo, which took place on the same day as a bombing in the capital, in what was a two-part attack by a native Norwegian hoping to make a political statement. Indeed, the response time raised eyebrows, but in defense of Norway, it is a quiet country, and not at all used to that kind of thing. In fact, many Norwegians seemed to suggest that that kind of incident you expect in the United States, but not in quiet Norway. Which, perhaps, is more than a veiled criticism of the United States, and the high rate of crime and inexplicable, violent episodes and shootings.
What also received a lot of publicity and raised eyebrows was that the perpetrator, Anders Behring Breivik, could only receive the maximum sentence of a few decades, as opposed to a life sentence, much less the death penalty, like the United States likely would have pursued (at least in some states, anyway).
Although they do not really talk about this particular shooting incident, they do engage in a kind of ongoing debate throughout the book about the merits, or the lack thereof, on both sides – the Swedish and the American models of legal punishment. They address the overcrowded prisons and the sense of security that Americans get out of their system, as well as the huge costs of maintaining such a massive, and growing, prison system. They also in particular talk about the death penalty and Europe's opposition to it, in theory as well as in fact.
But Cell 8 is not just about the questions, moral or legal, surrounding the death penalty. Far from it. It also takes an honest look at intellectually dishonest politics, about "legalese" speak, if you will. Although Sweden and the United States may speak different languages, the BS underneath much of the language of the law, which we have all seen before, becomes magnificently in evidence and is used to very strong effect as you read this book.
For that matter, another interesting point that is addressed is the apparent need of an abusive state to subjugate people at times to the will of the state; to humiliate them. The prisoner in question is at some point made to feel dehumanized once he is under the control of certain authorities, and the systematic message of making sure it is understood to one and all that they state can, and will, do whatever the hell it wants to one of it's own, is indeed troubling. That these are men and women who go to and from work everyday and otherwise lead normal lives, but who's very job description seems to entail a disturbing psychosis, is itself troubling.
After all, it is, in theory, the state that is supposed to contain people who's violent tendencies do harm to others, but what happens when it is the state itself, an allegedly civilized nation, that exhibits violent tendencies?
There are many layers to this book, including how regular people, powerless to really throw a monkey wrench into the machinery or effect change on a massive scale, can cope with the reality of these horrors. The authors make a compelling argument about the radically different ideas and notions of crime and punishment between the United States and Sweden in particular, and perhaps more of the European Union in general. It also exposes the weakness, the chink in the armor if you will, of the theory that the death penalty serves as a strong deterrent, versus the actual facts and statistics that seem to illustrate a different story, and that perhaps Americans are believing in a fallacy, in a myth, when they make this claim to justify their continued support of capital punishment. Though this is a work of fiction, the authors certainly do not shy away from seriously debating a topic that is all too real. .
With these debates clearly underlying the story throughout, the authors go on about a fictional character on death row in Ohio, who managed to escape, ultimately, and then is discovered in Sweden after being taken in for a violent incident. The story itself is intriguing, as are the details about how this fictional escape took place. The fictional diplomatic crisis that the potential extradition of this American back to the States, where he would surely face the death penalty again to a revenge minded voting base back home, echoes some real political realities in the present day, and serves as the backdrop for further rich debate and arguments that the authors engage in.
Cell 8 itself is written by the Swedish writing duo of Anders Roslund and Borge Hellstrom. The duo also wrote “Three Seconds”, and have been compared to Stieg Larsson, the author of “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”. Cell 8 is an exciting read, and keeps you wanting to read more and more, on many levels, and find out whether the fictional government of Sweden in the book will actually yield the American and bow down to political pressures, thus in effect sentencing this man to death, or whether it will safeguard the American, who's major crimes, after all, took place on foreign shores. It also makes you wonder about the resolve in reality on both sides of the Atlantic regarding this all-important topic. Recommended reading!