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Raging Bully Gores Big Bird: Mitt Romney in Debate Mode

Picture him: shoulders hunched, body lurching forward, maniacal grin, eyes bugging out as if, Mormon elder or not, he was hyped on some powerful upper.  Add the voice, soft, sweet, calculated, the voice of a hit man sadistically caressing his opponent, who seemed to shrink in size as the bully attacked again and again, interrupting hapless moderator Jim Lehrer, interrupting the baffled and defensive Barack Obama.  Toward the middle of the encounter, realizing no doubt that he was well on the way to being declared the winner of the debate, Romney’s fixed smile turned into the more familiar smirk, the characteristic expression of the financial masters of the world (think Jamie Dimon) among whom the Bain takeover artist clearly believes he should be counted.

The Mismatch

Did anyone else notice a curious disjunction?  On the one hand, Romney’s aggressive body language and his determination to dominate the debate.  On the other, his claim of having been a model of amiable collegiality as governor of Massachusetts.  “I had the great experience—it didn't seem like it at the time—of being elected in a state where my legislature was 87 percent Democrat. And that meant I figured out from day one I had to get along and I had to work across the aisle to get anything done.”  So now, he says, he’s ready to play nicely with Democrats in Congress.  “We need to have leadership—leadership in Washington that will actually bring people together and get the job done....I've done it before. I'll do it again.”

Ahem.  Do what again? Unfortunately for ex-governor of Massachusetts Romney, history isn’t totally malleable. According an extensively documented piece in the New York Times,  “no one else seems to remember Romney as a teddybear in those days.”  He was “aloof" and “uncommunicative” and “bipartisanship was in short supply.”  He vetoed innumerable legislative initiatives, and “statehouse Democrats complained he variously ignored, insulted or opposed them, with intermittent charm offensives.”

Which To Trust?

My conclusion?  Romney’s aggressive body language during Wednesday’s debate on economic policy is a better predictor of future behavior than his most recent charm offensive, his honied words, his amazingly successful (for now) effort to overcome his likeability deficit, despite his boorish insistence on having the first word, the last word and as many words in between as possible.  Maybe Americans like bullies.  Goodness knows, there are enough of them terrorizing America’s playgrounds.

But, you rightly ask, what did Romney say?  What’s his policy?  That’s the important thing.  Yes, it is.  And once again the debate exposed a glaring disparity between the torrents of smooth talk, reiterated falsifications and vague generalities we’ve become familiar with and the few bald statements that he put his heart and soul into. 

In the Keep of Yorkshire

By John Charles Dyer, UK Correspondent   

In the silence of the keep

one forgets time,

even who one is.

Romance gallops as sunlit dust swirls

in search of glory 

among the clouds.

(Left, Castle Keep. Photo by John C. Dyer)

But this was a real castle with a real history, the Neville’s Raby Castle near Durham, County Durham. One of post Conquest Britain’s early seats of great power, Raby rises with surprising majesty above Yorkshire’s bucolic rolling green fields.

 

 

 

 

(Above, left to right, Raby Castle, Stable Entrance to Gardens, Raby Castle Gardens. Below, left to right, View from a Gun, Deer in Castle Park, Raby Castle 2. All photos by John C. Dyer)

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Left, Within the Keep, photo by John C. Dyer)

We came to Raby at the request of friends from the States.    

This trip was a reunion of sorts. I had missed my college reunion.  The couple we accompanied to Raby attended the same small college modeled on Oxford.

Whitby, Love at First Bite

By John Charles Dyer, UK Correspondent

Introduction

As a wee lad I had the opportunity to tour Disney Studios. A budding artist even at four, I enjoyed observing the then-studio cartoonists at work. On a later holiday- but still while in elementary school- my family and I were privileged to have Walt Disney’s flat at the top of the Fire Station in Disneyland all to ourselves for a long weekend.  As I am sure all readers understand, the enthralled little boy in me still cherishes these memories.    

I’ve had many enchanting experiences. I watched stars glint in a pristine dark night sky above Monte Toyon in the Santa Cruz mountains. I gazed down  on the magnificent Yosemite Valley from Half Dome. I wandered the forests of mottled light that surround Patrick’s Point, seeking the Ewoks of my imagination. I held my breath watching wales breach the Pacific from Patrick's Point's sacred central rock.  I soaked up the warm, jeweled nights of Nassau.  I stood on the site of Bunker Hill in Boston.  I walked Capitol Park in the Nation’s capitol. I toured the North and South East coasts of Cornwall.

I rode the route along the Fowey River to Lerryn which was one of the routes that inspired Wind in the Willows.  I gazed  on the Talland Bay from a bench within the soul refreshing graveyard of Talland Church. I photographed England’s breath taking cathedrals in Wells, Salisbury, Bristol, Exeter. I listened to Timothy Leary expound on LSD in the Raymond College Common Room. I’ve talked with Allen Ginsberg after enjoying the poetry of Jack Kerouac. I have experienced the force of nature who was Eric Hoffer.

I remember vividly lounging in the warm light that flooded the Common Room alcove, smiling at its fountain, my first morning at Raymond College, my Hogwarts. It reminded me of my great uncle’s cabin in the then undeveloped Santa Monica Hills, the tiny but truly "burbling" creek that wandered through the ferns that covered his hillside, the steep trail that led from the Cabin in which some of the 20th Century's great theologians had debated life. 

But few experiences have been as magical as Whitby. To think, we only went to Whitby to avoid the crowds during the week of the British Open (which took place 200 yards from our home flat). 

Whitby

Whitby nestles into the North Yorkshire seaside, straddling the mouth of the Esk River.   

(Left to Right Up: Whitby & Abbey from the Esk, Whitby along the Esk.)  

 

 

 

 

(Left to Right, Whitby & Whitby Bay. Photos by John C. Dyer)

 

We stayed in a “self-catering” cottage, rented through Whitby Holiday Cottages.  

(Left, Holiday Cottage,

Cottage BedRm

By John C. Dyer)

 

Whitby has fantastic historical associations.  The earliest documented English poet, Caedmon, lived and at worked at Whitby Abbey. The Abbey in its original form pre-dates the time of King Edwin of Northumbria. Edwin's daughter, St. Helena, became its Abbess.  

A Glimpse of What Could Be Lost in Timbuktu

By Patricia Lee Sharpe

Timbuktu, for most Westerners, is simply another word for the end of the world.  Today, in fact, it’s a somewhat decayed real city on the southern edge of the Sahara desert.

Once upon a time, however, Timbuktu was a vital commercial and cultural crossroads for innumerable African civilizations.  For this reason, non-Muslim historians as well as Muslims who treasure all aspects of their richly complex past are alarmed by the destruction that’s been taking place in Timbuktu and other ancient cities like Gao since Salafists wrested control of the rebellion in Northern Mali from Tuareg insurgents.

Most reportage from the area has emphasized the spoiling, wholly or in part, of shrines and mosques accused of encouraging idol-worship.  But the threat goes beyond the usual crude iconoclasm of al Qaeda-related sects.  According to photographer Alexandra Huddleston, “not only are thousands of ancient manuscripts and holy sites under threat, but also an ancient scholarly culture.”  She has documented this culture in the past, and now she has created a video that shows us what we are in danger of losing.

Go to this site for Alexandra's heart-rending introduction to Timbuktu and the culture it fostered over the centuries.  Go to this site and weep.  And protest.  If you want to know more,  follow the links that Alexandra has provided. 

And here are some pieces I've written on developments in Northern Mali:  Iconoclasts in Timbuktu and Malaise in Mali: Is a Sudan-like Solution Possible? 

Singing in a Drought's Abundant Rain in Exeter, Devon

Singing in a Drought's Abundant Rain in Exeter, Devon

By: John C. Dyer, UK Correspondent

 It was raining the morning I set out to visit Exeter.   

It has long been said Britain has weather not climate, a nod to the weather’s changeability. But a new British reality is unfeasible drought punctuated by untenable downpours, leading to floods that seem to defy all expectations that come with the word, "drought."  It is the second year of a British drought severe enough for water use restrictions in some parts of the country.  But the South West, my destination, was on flood watch due to record downpours.   (Photo left "Vintage Exeter Roof in Rain"  by John C. Dyer, May 2012)  

Incidentally, because of the weather’s changeability, traveling in the UK requires at least two essentials- an all weather coat and a sensible pair of shoes.  You can get by without an umbrella, but not the coat. The weather can change from sunshine to storm within a half hour.  Sensible shoes are critical. You may see women dressed in 5 inch heels. This custom is called “fashion.”  But for the traveller, high heels may be the truest symbol of British austerity- not austere, in fact ostentatious, but undoubtedly horribly uncomfortable, especially walking along all those hills.  Wear sensible, comfortable shoes with great arch support. Your knees will thank you in the morning. 

A Journey by Rail (with travel tips)  

I set out from St Annes. The rain formed beautiful droplets on Spring’s new blossoms, foreshadowing hope for a holiday more enjoyable than the rains might have suggested possible.  

St. Annes is a community within the community of Lytham St. Annes. While neighbours the two towns have a different feel to them.   (Photo left "Sated Tulip" by John C. Dyer, May 2012)  

This summer that feel will be busy.  Golf’s biggest professional tournament comes to the Royal Lytham Golf Course, which runs like a green belt through St. Annes.  I shop Marks and Spencer. Their St. Annes outlet is hardly larger than a US 7/11 convenience store. It is always busy, but they estimate during the tournament as many as 10,000 people will shop there each day. Whew. 

I traveled to Exeter by rail, with an overnight stop in Bristol, Somerset.     

Rail has the place in British life air travel has in California. I have often seen BBC  interview the Chancellor , the shadow Chancellor or the leader of the opposition during their routine rail commutes between their constituencies and London.  For a visitor rail presents the advantages of dependability, wide access through the country, good directions for a new user, and, in First Class, comfort.   

As an example of how user friendly it can be, when I arrived in Preston to make connections for Bristol I learned that my connection had been delayed due to a safety problem further up the track.  Even as anxiety set in, the cheerful crew at the highly visible information booth set the old codger’s mind at ease. They explained to me just how to deal with it. They permitted me to use their telephone gratis to call my wife to advise her of the expected 20 minute delay.  Although I missed the scheduled connection in Bristol as a result, I just caught the next train with the same ticket. It was all quickly sorted by the onboard ticket taker.  With trains departing every 30 minutes I didn’t really notice a difference.  

Rail’s main disadvantages are relative lack of luggage space, particularly for large items, and crowding during peak hours.  For visitors who prefer a low fat, low cholesterol diet I suggest you consider buying your own prior to the journey. You will not find your diet choice either on the train or in the stations.  If you want to avoid noisy crowds and cell phones try for the “quiet car.”  

If you travel by rail with a reserved seat you will receive two tickets, one for the trip and one for the seat.  You must hold on to both. Both will be checked, predictably just after you decide that they aren’t going to bother this time.  Expect your ticket to be checked when you first set off and as you attempt to leave the station platform area. In fact, your ticket is your exit pass from the station. Don’t lose it.    

Other than that, trust the system, sit back, and enjoy the many sights and sounds of the journey. A rail journey in the UK is in-of-itself an adventure in discovery.  

As the train departed St. Annes the loudspeaker announced destinations.  I drifted bemused and amused by the pronunciation of "Oswald Twistle," a stop further down the line.  In this reverie it finally occurred to me the British are entitled to pronounce "Oswald Twistle" as they do, without an American saying to himself “how cute” or “how quaint.”  I don’t know if this was a transformative insight or just the haze of waking at “O Dark Hundred” to begin my journey.  (Photo Above "Impulse Power, Scotty" by John C. Dyer, May 2012)  

I soon settled in, watching the beautiful green, rolling countryside with its fields dotted by free ranging cattle and sheep, listening to the symphony of dialects spoken around me.  I remember registering just before nodding off that the “ot” in “Not” in a Glasgow accent  is pronounced “oh” as in French. So Not is “No.”   

Bristol

Victoria met me in Bristol.  We stayed overnight in Bristol before leaving for Exeter. 

I described Bristol at length in a previous post. One of the UK’s most vibrant cities, it is a blend of old and new. The Queen Elizabeth Hospital Boy’s School dates back to the time of Elizabeth I. 

The new flats and shopping areas of the redeveloped docks all came after Victoria moved away 20 years ago.    

 

 (Photo Up left  "Queen Elizabeth Welcomes Thee"; Photo Left "Brisol Port Flats" By John C. Dyer, May 2012)  

 

John Cabot was one of Bristol’s heros.  Memorials to his contribution to Bristol’s glorious past dot the city, from Cabot Tower 

to a bronze statue overlooking the dockyards.   

(Photo far left "Cabot Tower Bristol"; Photo left "Cabot Bronze" by John C. Dyer, May 2012)   

This sculpture symbolizes the vibrant unity of Bristol’s past and present. Cabot’s character-filled face gazes across the new development.   

His character filled hands rest casually crossed before him. He seems to tie together Bristol’s glorious past, vibrant present, and promising future. 

(Photo far left "Cabot Surveys Bristol Channel"; Photo left "Cabot Bronze Detail" by John C. Dyer, May 2012)       

 

How not to do public diplomacy in Laos or Any Where Else - Hip-Hop, Hippity Hop, Hop, Er Flop

By Patricia H. Kushlis

Update:  See Addendum below.

When Condoleezza Rice was Secretary of State and criticized for the State Department’s lack-luster handling of America's image abroad, she exuberantly claimed that “we all do public diplomacy now.”   Suddenly Foreign Service Officers who had never before spoken in public and had other pressing responsibilities – like adjudicating visas (you wonder why appointment times for visa interviews take so long?) or helping American citizens in distress - were suddenly fanned out throughout whatever country they were assigned to on public diplomacy gigs.  Meanwhile, 30% of the public diplomacy positions were left vacant. (Aerial Poto left of the Mekong in Laos by PHKushlis 2009)

It’s unclear to me whether an increase in State Department hiring a year or so ago made a dent in the high public diplomacy vacancy rate but I do know that too many American public diplomacy positions abroad are being filled by officers who are not public diplomacy specialists and do not have the requisite skills to perform the job adequately while those that supposedly do are assigned to other specialties or a few – likely more than when USIA was a separate agency – are moving up the hierarchy into Deputy Chief of Mission and Ambassadorial positions. 

Although a look at the promotion statistics from a year or so ago, suggests that these higher level opportunities for public diplomacy officers are far fewer, than let’s say, for almost any other State Department Foreign Service specialty.

Meeting-the-public is part of Ambassadorial job requirements

Now Ambassadors do, in fact, have a meet-the-public component in their job descriptions.  The best ones know the country to which they are assigned, speak the language fluently or at least passably well and are able to make the case privately and publicly for US foreign policy as it pertains to the country and region in which they serve.

If they don’t have those attributes – as I saw particularly in the case of a variety of political appointees over the years– those with common sense and a modicum of smarts take the advice of the embassy’s public affairs officer as well as the career diplomat (the DCM) who is charged with making the embassy run smoothly and, as importantly, keeping the ambassador from becoming a public embarrassment for the United States.  The advice is usually to keep a low profile and let someone who does know something talk with the media especially about substantive issues.  And, not-so-by-the-way, to refrain from making a public spectacle of himself or herself thereby introducing an unnecessary irritant into relations between the two countries.

There are, of course, also a few political appointees who are immensely popular in ways difficult for a career Ambassador to emulate.  They include both of President Obama’s appointments to China: former Ambassador John Huntsman and the current Ambassador Gary Locke as well as years ago the late Senator Mike Mansfield to Japan where he became almost a permanent fixture (1977-1988) regardless of administration because the Japanese liked and respected him so much.

But that’s not the issue here.

 

If you have not had the opportunity to view a couple of recent videos of Karen Stewart, US Ambassador to Laos, attempting to perform hip-hop at a public concert, may I suggest you let your fingers run, not do the walking to Youtube. Or just click on the video above.  The second one is below the fold. These questionable exhibitions of hubris are blissfully short and, at least for a while, the least offensive one (above) can also be found on the US Embassy Vientiane’s webpage.  My guess is it won’t last there all that long – but something posted on You-Tube as well as in the Lao electronic media as these are – can seemingly last forever.

 Tone Deaf and judgment poor?

Sadly, Ms. Stewart is a career senior Foreign Service Officer and she may well have had – and continue to have a terrific career. But I wonder.

Proms, Protesters and the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra – Where Culture Meets Politics

By Patricia H. Kushlis

Last week 30-some, well- organized pro-Palestinian protesters effectively disrupted the Israel Philharmonic’s popular summer Proms concert at Royal Albert Hall in London four times in two hours prompting the BBC to cut off its live broadcast.  Whether one agrees or disagrees with the protesters’ motives or behavior, their actions are just the most recent example of people using culture to send political messages that are otherwise being ignored by the government in question.

Yet it wasn’t just the protesters – some of whom were themselves professional musicians -who were in the hall that night to send a political message:  their actions were in direct response to the Israeli government’s decision to send its premier orchestra to London to perform as a cultural ambassador in the first place.  Here’s what Zubin Mehta, the orchestra’s Indian born and raised conductor, told the media in anticipation of the concert and possible protest according to John Burns of the The New York Times:

 “The IPO is a cultural ambassador for Israel, and it is not “whitewashing Israel’s crimes,” Mehta said quoting a pro-Israel boycott campaign. “People who make music have to be politically aware; we have to know what’s going on.  We have to bring people together.  In Israel, Arab and Jewish audiences, and on quite a few occasions every year, at least for two-and-one-half hours, there is some sort of peace in the hall.”

I think that’s about the best explanation Mehta could have given in the orchestra’s and the Israeli government’s defense. Music should and often does bring people together and, as Mehta pointed out, the Israel Philharmonic does just that for a few hours several times a year in Israel.

Music and the Beast

Remember the old saying: “music soothes the savage beast.” It may well but it also depends upon the kind of music and the beast’s mood. The wrong music at the wrong time can enrage the beast as well.   

Throughout the eons, music is, and has been used as a terrific unifier – but it has equally been a horrific divider that brings out the worst.

The use and misuse of the emotions that music engenders are legion.  Just think of Hitler's use of Richard Wagner’s operas in inciting the Holocaust against Europe’s Jews – powerful music, that I believe is still not performed in Israel. 

Or consider the proud nationalism encapsulated in Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture which depicted Russia’s defeat of Napoleon’s Army or Jean Sibelius’ soaring Finlandia composed and performed in the years leading up to Finnish Independence in 1917.  Or the singing of equally nationalistic choral music by the Estonian independence movement prior to 1991 poignantly depicted in the film “The Singing Revolution.”  These are but a few examples of music as politics.

Somerset Trip Day 2, Bath

By John C. Dyer, UK Correspondent

Braced by Costas Cappuccino, Victoria and I approached the entrance to the Square adjoined by both the Cathedral and the ruins of the Roman Baths. It was early.

Street musicians made their way to their posts as we entered.  A bicycle parked next to its street musician owner advertised a performance schedule that evening.  ( Photo left: Bath Cathedral -"Through a Portal," photo right center "Beside One Musician", photo right "Street Musicians Take Their Places" by JC Dyer, summer 2011)

We were distracted by one of the objects of our quest in Somerset, a shop selling Wedding Rings. But they were not the hand crafted type we sought. (Photo left "Wedding Bands, by JC Dyer, summer 2011)

The Cathedral rose majestically at the Square’s other end.  As we gazed at the towers of the Cathedral extending toward the sky as if in praise, a woman’s voice filled the Square with the most unexpectedly rich Soprano. Tourists and locals stopped what they were doing and listened. (Photos center right "The Voice" and "Bath Cathedral" by JC Dyer, summer 2011)

 

Both Victoria and I felt our spirits soar with the Voice.  As if ushered along by it we entered Bath Cathedral.  I gasped at its interior. (Photo left "Bath Cathedral Interior by JC Dyer summer 2011).