The 2:00 mark...

... the best mark.

Participatory academics

Michael Albert spoke at the New School today. Finally, a lecture worth listening to. I mean, he came in, he told a bunch of funny stories about his life and about organizing, he dropped a few f-bombs, and he dispensed crusty truisms like "The difference between the Republicans and the Democrats is an argument between the haves as to how to deal with the have-nots." We all sat around and listened and gabbed until the facilities guy came by at 10:30p and told us the building was closed. Proles.

For driving buying cigarettes, fitting in

How cool is this?

Also, pace a decade's worth of stand-up jokes, the DMV is a much smoother bureaucracy than the New School or my stupid, stupid bank, or t-mobile. See, when I say I hate bureaucracy, what I really mean is that I am a bureaucracy conoisseur. It's an anarchist thing (read: organized, just not hierarchical).

America marches, goes home

Saturday - henceforth known as J27 - I went to Washington, D. C. and protested the war in Iraq. Four of us were supposed to go, but only two of us had the fortitude to board a Chinatown bus (only $35 return!) at 7:00 am. (As one bailer said, "I don't think the revolution is supposed to start before brunch.")

Four hours and a quick stop in Baltimore later, we were there. It was a beautiful 20 degrees, perfectly calm and sunny, wonderful compared to New York's brutalizing ice wind.

Washington truly is a city by, for, and of the bureaucrats. The subway system is so convoluted that even friend - who is from there - couldn't explain to me what ticket to buy.

We arrived at the Mall to find tens of thousands of people: union members, peaceniks, socialists, families, Dems, Jane Fonda, raging grannies, etc. The program was outrageously bad - too many Congresspeople on the campaign trail yakking about their victory back in November and claiming the moral highground and boosting proposition RH 5.3.8.3.Z.1.8b. The only speech worth listening to was by an Iraqi guy who got up there and just said, unequivocally, that the US needs to get out of Iraq, that democracy will not break out until they do, that Sunnis and Shias and Kurds have been living together for thousands of years and can mind their own affairs. You could hear crickets. Because Americans - even the ones attending "End the War Now" peace rallies - think Iraqis are better off occupied.

Now, I had already decided that my job in that crowd was to raise awareness (read: heckle), so I punctuated the stilted silences with "Believe it, people!... Yeah!... Woo!... Listen to the Iraqis!" Galvanized no one.

I also got into a fight with this guy:
ISRAEL WANTS PEACE
PALESTINIANS TEACH HATE

He made his little sign right in front of me, and I waited - I gave him the benefit of the doubt - until it was good and jiffied out before telling him I didn't think there was any place for racism at a rally like this. We went on to conversate a little, during which I informed him that yes I have been to the region, and yes I can name the two main political parties in Palestine. He explained that all he meant was that Hamas was not a reasonable negotiating partner, and that factional fighting between Hamas and Fatah would have to be resolved before the peace process could resume. Now, leaving aside the gigantic pot-calling-kettle-black-osity of that analysis, I asked him how on earth that translated to "Palestinians teach hate." In the end he admitted his sign was inappropriate, rolled it up, and promised not to display it. I'd give him a big gold star, but it was clear he was being disingenuous. Nobody changes their mind that fast; he was just shamed.

Then Jessseuuhh Jaccckk-soonnn got up to talk, and by then we were bored, so friend and I walked around to the top of the Mall, where we found the anarchists, who were just then advancing on the Capitol building. At this point, for sheer comedic value, I will defer to the AP newswire:

The rally on the National Mall unfolded peacefully, although about 300 protesters tried to rush the Capitol, running up the grassy lawn to the front of the building. Police on motorcycles tried to stop them, scuffling and wrestling with some and setting up barricades along the front steps. Protesters chanted "[Whose Congress?] Our Congress" as police faced off against them. Their ranks grew and several dozen shouting "We want a tour" broke away and tried to get into a side door.

Lol, that's pretty close to how it went down, although we didn't so much try to rush the Capitol as we did rush the Capitol. Now, every time the crowd broke through another barrier, the cops would sort of stand back after a minute as if to say "Sure, come on in" - which sometimes is the lead-up to everyone getting corralled and arrested with those little plastic ties. Luckily, that didn't happen. But we never did get our tour.

After that we went for a really nice lunch - friend had the black bean soup and tomato panini; I had the scrambled eggs on sourdough - saw the White House, and wandered around some of the trendier areas. With an hour to kill, we capped of the day by accepting a tour of a Scientology church/manse (whatever they call them). I know, right? Let's just say those people are white, middle-class, and of reeelly average intelligence.

Vanguard out.

Harlem

On Martin Luther King day, my friend and I went on a two-hour guided walking tour of Harlem, and saw Striver's Row and the Abyssinian Baptist Church and such. Actually, that doesn't have much to do with MLK at all, since he was a Southerner and Christian and non-violent and integrationist. The activism coming out of Harlem, as we learned on the tour, was way more radical. That's par for New York. This is the city whose Starbucks employees are organizing with the Wobs.

This picture shows one of the streets we walked down. All of the housing was all originally built in the late 19th and early 20th century as luxury condos or brownstones for white people. Only 15 minutes from downtown! they advertised at the time. It still takes 20.

It was freezing that day (and has been since), so before the tour started, I went into the corner bodega to get a coffee. This 70-year-old man flirted with me so I paid for his Ensure and his coffee as well. I think I got $19 in change back from a $20.

Here's one from the mouldy draft folder...

So yes, the election happened recently, and I wasn't planning on comment- ing except that it is being seen as a big deal even outside of this country, and I thought some of you people might be curious about what I have been witnessing/hearing/experiencing, living as I do in the U S and A.

People here are ecstatic, heralding this putative sea-change in the Congress (as well as Rumsfeld's ouster, etc.) with phrases such as "I can't wait for the Democrats to bring some accountability back to the House" and "About fucking time". New York is *not* the rest of the United States, and Manhattan even less so. The rest of the US (and I base this entirely on true crime documentaries) loves Jesus and goes to church on Sunday. (Lower) Manhattanites sometimes head up to the Abyssinian Baptist Church to hear good gospel singing (and to prove they're not afraid of Harlem). The rest of the US loves football and watches it on Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday night, and Monday night. Manhattanites will see it playing in the background, aloft on a flat-panel tv, at a French bistro or wine bar. I could go on.

The point is that elections are a caricature of democracy.

Soaking and crusty

Mmmmm... a glass of pinot and some leftover KD (okay, so I threw in some vine tomatoes and cheese and oregano and fresh ground pepper and a touch of cream). This is all very cosy after having been caught in the rain - of all the days I had to experiment with getting off at Wall Street, only to come out the west exit and get stuck on the wrong side of Broadway. I passed a schnauzer in a yellow raincoat, but myself had only a t-shirt on and no umbrella. I arrived with sopping tendrils and saturated cuffs; now I am warm and dry.

It's Wednesday, which means it's almost my weekend - no classes on Fridays - and I could pretty well imagine myself staying in for four days, preparing for my presentation on the Schematism, reading the Repetition, and getting ready for the Kristeva class, which starts in a few weeks. Not only because it would be good to get caught up, but because I've become sort of disenamoured with the social scene here. There are a few interesting people, but there is a whole lot of drinking and BRAGGING about how much Tillich or Buber you've read (who, for you non-philosophers, are fine authors but the corpus's equivalent of last year's American Idol winner). It makes me laugh and think of my friend Wesley's one-word summation of philosophy students: poncy. Brings out the crustiness in me.

I need to get myself in touch with some anarchists...

Anarchy!

The Edmonton Anarchist Bookfair is taking place this weekend, as this week's cover of Vue will tell you. Those in town should go, and everyone else can visit this link for some interview bits with yours truly.