Is it a war?

I admit that I do not know enough of the finer points of each woman to comment on which of the two I prefer. From what I do know, however, I believe that the differences between the two women are probably minimal. In reality, both are more centrist then they would perhaps care to admit. Both are hawkish and believe that American ideas should be imposed on the world. Both seem to believe that peace can be achieved only through force and/or confrontation.

I find nothing even slightly appealing in either woman. Condi was an architect of one of the worst blunders in American history, one that has cost tens of thousands of lives, not to mention irreversibly ruined America's reputation abroad. Clinton won her seat in the US Senate primarily because New York is a democratic state (albeit with a republican governor), and because she is married to the most popular Democrat in recent history. However, her foreign policy is entirely too hawkish for my taste (note her support of the Iraq War as well as the Israeli attempts to impose peace on the region), while I find her domestic policy unsettling (especially her recent support for a ban on flag burning).

A War of Ideas

It's high time I ask you, Mr. Beerman, in your heart of hearts, who would you vote for: Hill or Condi?

I know you work for Mrs. Clinton and sympathize with her political leanings, but I can't help but wonder if there's a place in your Thatcher-esque heart for the accomplished historian, Condoleezza Rice.

Bush Wanted War

Oy...

In this morning's Washington Post, Richard Cohen writes, "Bush wanted war. He just didn't want the war he got."

Shortly after the United States invaded Iraq, I sat down and read Kenneth M. Pollack's argument for preemptive war with Iraq, The Threatening Storm. Published in 2002, the well-researched, insightful text provides a multifaceted rationale for war with Iraq, and more specifically, war with Saddam. The book opens with a rather powerful statement: "As best we [the U.S. Intelligence community] can tell, Iraq was not involved in the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. American intelligence officials have repeatedly affirmed that they can't connect Baghdad to the attacks despite Herculean labors to do so." 400 pages later, Mr. Pollack effectively constructed a strong case for invading Iraq, despite the lack of connection to September 11th. Long story short, I was convinced that war with Iraq was in the United States' - not Bush's - best foreign policy interests. A self-proclaimed Liberal Hawk, I firmly believe in the necessity of "war as an extension of diplomacy," and thought Iraq a perfect example.

Now, however, most of Mr. Pollack's argument has largely been discounted by more recent intelligence reports and insider accounts of the war's early days. Despite Mr. Pollack's other arguments for war (lasting democratic influence in the Middle East, humanitarianism, etc.), a harsh political reality has bested him. Like Mr. Cohen, I now believe that Bush "had Saddam on his mind and in his sights from the very moment he got the news of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon." The Kurds did not matter, the WMD did not matter, and the credibility of our nation's executive branch did not matter.

Call Mr. Bush's actions what you will - political stunt, lying - but his public actions and private decisions on Iraq were, in retrospect, grossly misaligned. The debate over reasons for war with Iraq should be closed, and we should turn now to the war's conclusion. Hopefully this question remains for another administration that can free itself from emotional politicking.

Split In The Road?

I would have to agree with you, Mr. Beerman: that is a "bold" theory, and I am also reluctant to take a piece of the cake. But why is it so bold? Has Mr. Fukuyama presented us with yet another piece of academic sensationalism, or, perhaps, are his words intimidating because they teeter on the realm of possibility?

I am inclined to believe the latter, but only to a certain extent. Democracy is indeed the best form of government presently available; however, that does not go so far as to say it's the ideal. As former British Prime Minister Winston Churchill stated, "The best argument against democracy is a five minute conversation with the average voter." This, my friend, is why democracy will not lead to a historical vacuum in which man fails to recognize a temporal sense of direction. Democracies, as a result of their own inherent flaws - I shall spare you the trademark critique of "the masses" - will rise and fall with the current sentiments of the majority. In other words, just because 51% of the people vote as a bloc, they do not inevitably constitute a democracy. Ask the other 49%.

Let's consider a hypothetical: An open, democratic nation elects a president who, through various political manueverings, extends his executive power to the point of infringement upon the basic civil liberties of his supposed constituents. Does this sound like a democracy? I would argue, "no." The president is in fact elected, but he presides in a manner well beyond the role he was elected for. Thus, through a seemingly flawless transition, we move from a democracy to a pseudo-autocracy.

Oppurtunism, Mr. Beerman, will never permit democracy to take hold, nor will it allow mankind to reach "the teleological end of any process, no matter how mundane." For some, the razor is obsolete.

End of the Road

In his book The End of History and the Last Man, historian Francis Fukuyama proposes the idea that since the idea of democracy is now universally accepted, mankind can progress no further. There may be problems with the implementation of democracy, however, no one will suggest alternatives to democracy. This is a bold theory, and if I may speak personally, one that I am not ready (or willing) to accept.

It does however, make one wonder if mankind has reached the teleological end of any process,no matter how mundane. For example, has mankind run out of ideas on innovations in shaving? As a society, we have invented two forms of razors - one being a sharp blade applied to the skin, the other being an electric device. The Gillette Corporation may add as many blades as it pleases to its razor, it can have it spit out lotion, it could even add a clock for the time-conscious shaver - but as Fukuyama would argue, these are improvements on implementation, not innovations. While I am saddened for the implications of this on the state of mankind's imagination, for now I am forced to accept that the way a man will shave his beard three hundred years from now will be no different than how I do it every morning.

The Belt(way)

So my brown belt broke last night, thus rendering me brown-beltless. This, in turn, rendered me brown-shoeless, for, as we all know, one musn't wear brown shoes with a black belt. This morning, faced with the reality of laundry-based fashion limitations, I had to make a decision: no belt, or brown shoes with a black belt.

Ouch.

Fortunately, dear readers, I found a "loop hole," so to speak. I rocked out the brown shoes, black belt, AND - here's the best part - a sweater over my buttondown, which coincidentally masked my belt. Fashion faux pas averted. Whew! Funny little story, huh?

This morning's emergency was made all the more comical by a coworker who suffered through a similar predicament ...

Noted

Good point, Mr. Beerman. Now that we've scratched the surface, dare I suggest we explore further?

First, I think we need to foster a mutual understanding of boredom, for couching it as a "question of arithmetic" sells us both short. There are, as you note, 24 hours in a day. And I, for one, do not resign myself to an existence where I am "left" with 8 hours to make my life "interesting." I typically spend 16 to 18 hours a day inadvertently doing that (we shall exclude sleep, although I pride myself on rather extravagant dreams). Whether I am "watching children playing baseball or reliving past glories of Maryland basketball," I am maximizing my time from a qualitative perspective - not quantitative. To me, boredom is not a misallocation of time. It is a failure to enrich oneself.

I think we can agree on that, no?

As for the question of a mundane existence, I remain loyal to an emphatic "yes." Why, you ask? It is quite simple, actually. I was not solely "referring to the activities (or lack thereof) in [my] position within the corporate hierarchy of the Beltway;" I was also referring to the sacrifices one must make in order to function within a society of demands. It is true that I could, from a selfish perspective, make better use of my time if I did not hold "a book for someone else to read," but that would undoubtedly spark inequities in other portions of my life. I hold the book - or, more appropriately, I help others - because it offers a sense of self-worth that I would not encounter otherwise. It may be mundane, but only from a shallow, short-sighted perspective.

The error, therefore, is on my part. My thanks to Mr. Beerman for drawing attention to my own over-simplification. Boredom does not provide intellectual clarity. The immediate sacrifices one makes in the interests of a salubrious existence provide intellectual clarity.

boredom, revisited

For those readers who are not terribly familiar with either myself or my counterpart in Washington, DC, we are known for 'creative banter.' For better or worse, it has become something of a tradition, like gathering around the fire to hear Grandpa read The Night Before Christmas. In light of this, loyal readers of The Recipe should expect the odd debate between Cook and myself, buried beneath what already is becoming a pile of nonsensical philosophizing.

In the entry entitled "WebEx," Dr Cook proposed the question of whether it is right to resign oneself to a mundane existence. Without drawing on specifics, he is obviously referring to the activities (or lack thereof) in his position within the corporate hierarchy of the Beltway. His answer to this question is Yes. He then attempts to justify this answer by telling the reader that boredom (the result of his so-called mundane existence) provides intellectual clarity, which gets translated into this blog, of which the reader is the obvious recipient.

I must ask, however, why Dr Cook is so willing to resign himself to boredom. It is a simple question of arithmetic. The day is 24 hours long. Assuming he works for 8 and sleeps for 8, he is left with 8 hours remaining to make his life as interesting, stimulating or purposeful as he chooses. The fact that he spends his free time (8 hours a day remind you - not including the extra time on weekends) watching children play baseball or reliving the past glories of Maryland basketball, isn't my problem. I suggest a hobby. Perhaps he try orienteering.

Furthermore, it is quite obvious that Dr Cook does not resign himself to boredom. In fact, he fights against it. The obvious example is this bog, created with the sole purpose of warding off the constant boredom of his cubicle. That Dr Cook would miss this obvious fault in his logic proves that, while he might be a master of MS office, as a philopsopher, he is rather sophmoric.

Enter Mr Beerman, stage left

If you are not already familiar with me, let me introduce myself. I am Mr Beerman, The Recipe's New York correspondent. As Dr Cook has informed you, I am currently working for the Clinton '08 campaign. I scour the shopping districts of Manhattan, purchasing various pantsuits for the senator to wear during her campaign. While some may laugh, this is no easy task. While New York may be the shopping capital of the world, there are only so many outfits that completely remove all aspects of femininity from the wearer, so that her true gender remains hidden from the population.

It will be my pleasure to offer musings on subjects such as politics and the arts for as long as I can capably do so.

Futurama

I love cartoons.

I Wonder (Revisited)

Speaking of realtime news, my roommate, Ralph Bellefonte, said: "When is Google going to make a news pill? You know, something you swallow in the morning and it time-releases news to you throughout the day. I want news and I want it now!"

That is a scary-good idea. And I'm willing to bet Googlezon can do it.

I Wonder

I could be making something out of nothing, but I wonder if mainstream, institutionalized blogs will eventually replace structured commentary. A blog, in my opinion, has the unique potential to be a quick and dirty editorial column - and a realtime editorial column at that. I don't know too many bloggers who submit their posts for peer review before publication.

True, the subject of the blog might be on one's mind for quite some time, but the actual transcription - again, in my experience - is fast and oftentimes shortsighted. By simply perusing a variety of blogs, it's easy to find remarks, apologies, and other forms of revisionist afterthought. An editorial column, on the other hand, is painstakingly considered, researched, discussed, written, reviewed, rewritten, and ultimately released (hopefully).

I would liken the blog to the little bar at the bottom of CNBCCBC-Jazeera. You know what I am talking about: that little scrolling newsreel that spits events at you thirty-seven seconds after they happen. I have actually seen typos in those newreels, just as I have noticed typos in my blog after the fact.

Well, folks, "breakfast is served." We can discuss in greater detail later. In the mean time, I leave you with a Gnome Party!

ARROGANT

Arrogant: Having or displaying a sense of overbearing self-worth or self-importance. Marked by or arising from a feeling or assumption of one's superiority toward others.

PS - I mispelled arrogant in my previous post. I noticed this typo while reading Lobbying DC by Mr. Lee. On an unrelated note, let's revisit Maryland's brief stay on the altar of glory...

No. 1 Duke

I thought it worth quoting this morning's Washington Post:

"Redick missed a three-point attempt, the last shot of his college career, with 15 seconds left, and was taken out of the game with nine seconds to play. He was crying as he reached the Duke bench."

As a University of Maryland-College Park graduate, I am obligated to hate Duke University. But I don't. I respect the program, and, more importanty, I respect J.J. Redick. He may be confident - dare I say arrogant - but, damn it, he plays every game like it could be his last. Redick, who hussles on every play, is a dying breed in collegiate athletics. A number of Terrapins could learn something from him.

Diamonds...Revisited

Remember that angelic mood we were in after our trip around the baseball diamond? I don't. After twenty-nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds on the phone (the Help Desk, that is) I am salty as hell.

After a long, exhausting call, [Caller #17] said, and I quote: "Thank you, Help Desk."

Dumb Brawd.

For Immediate Release

Washington DC - The Recipe, a prominent blog, recently announced the addition of a guest columnist, Mr. Beerman. Originally from the Washington area, Mr. Beerman currently resides in New York, where he works on Hillary Clinton's presidential campaign.

Mr. Beerman's interests include isms, picture framing, and pogs.

Diamonds...

This evening, while walking to the grocery store, I happened upon a little league baseball game under the lights. I paused to think of the last time I willingly watched kid pitch - I could not remember.

I stayed for an inning, and, in that time, remembered the grace of baseball under the lights.

"Hello, Help Desk?"

I staff a Help Desk for a living. There. I said it.

Now some advice...

When and if you ever call a Help Desk, please treat him/her as an autonomous human being who is capable of emotional response. The person on the other end of the phone does, in fact, care about you and wants to help, but they can't do it if you are being a troglodyte. Most importantly, the Help Desk has a name. DO NOT call and say, "Hello, Help Desk?" No, absolutely not, you insensitive ninny. Try, "Hello, this is [state your name], how are you?" If you are feeling a little crazy, try repeating their name at some point in the conversation. Here is an example:

Caller: Hi, my name is Jody, and I have a problem.
Helper: Hi, Jody, this is Mitch, how can I help?
Jody [formerly Caller]: Hi, Mitch! How are you?
Mitch [formerly Helper]: I am great; and yourself?
Jody: You know, not too bad. Thanks for asking!
Mitch: My pleasure. What seems to be the problem?
Jody: I am having trouble accessing the internet. I've never had this problem before.
Mitch: I think I can help, Jody....

You see, [insert your name here], a name is the most powerful gift you can ever bestow upon another human. There is no replacement for the honor associated with one's title - the only constant representation of one's existence. Don't believe me? Ask John Proctor. In Arthur Miller's The Crucible, the main character, John Proctor, emphatically states at the play's climax, "How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!” This reference may seem irrelevant, but take some time to think about it. Something might click.

In short, always respect someone who appears to be in an inherently subordinated position. More than likely, it is only the person who has the upperhand that can truly suffer in a hierarchical relationship.

WebEx

My Wednesday morning boredom persists. Let's explore why.

I am currently hosting a WebEx, which, in layman's terms, means my computer is a surrogate host for a web-based training session. It's as if I am holding a book for someone else to read. In a perverted sense, I am being paid to stare at my computer screen. I am literally doing nothing.

This issue, this horrible misallocation of refined human capital, poses a provocative question: from a philosophical perspective, is it Right - yes, capital "R" - to knowingly pay someone to strive for mediocrity? If we separate ourselves from the issue's specificities, the aforementioned question can be compressed thusly:

Is it right to resign oneself to a mundane existence?

Philosophers, scholars, and peons alike have all spent lifetimes wrestling with this question. I, on the other hand, have found the answer. Short answer: Yes. Long answer: Yes, but...

My boredom, for better of worse, provides intellectual clarity.

Inaugural Address

It's a Wednesday morning, I am sitting in my cubicle, and I am accomplishing nothing.

I figure now is the perfect time to start a blog.

What will I write about, you ask? I will tell you: nothing. I promise only gratuitous drivel, the likes of which the internet's back alleys were designed for. Depending on my long-term interest, I suspect we will encounter pedestrian political commentary, weak human interest stories, and other ambiguous mediums for expressing my untenable opinions.

Shall we? We shall.