Sunday, December 30, 2007
Three further unicorn sightings
I'm about to get on a plane and leave this mystical land full of trotting myths - but what discoveries!
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
All Eyes on Iowa
THIS day next week a US state with a population almost exactly the same as Wales will play a decisive role in determining who will be the next US President.
Iowa, the home to 2.9 million Americans, will stage its “caucus” on January 3. This will help deciding who will represent the Democrats and the Republicans in November’s election.
Each state will have its say, but Iowa is the first to do so. If a front-runner does not emerge near the top the hype which has hitherto cloaked him or her will vaporise.
Similarly, a “dark horse” could bolt out of Iowa flushed with a new credibility – and may soon receive an influx of campaign donations.
The caucus involves a delightfully eccentric series of 1,784 neighbourhood gatherings where votes are taken.
Strange things happen when groups of people come together and talk politics. Millions have already been spent trying to influence these discussions which will have such out-of-proportion influence on US and world events.
Democrat Howard Dean had excited websurfers across the US and beyond in 2004 with his anti-war opinions and intelligent barbs. To college students and urban dwellers antagonised by the cowboy iconography of the Bush administration the doctor-turned-Vermont governor was the target of their dollars and dreams.
But Iowans took umbrage that Dean’s get-out-the-vote operation was titled The Perfect Storm. The residents of the northern state were familiar with the blast of an icy storm, and “perfect” was not the word they would use to describe the experience. Dean finished third in the caucus, behind John Kerry and John Edwards – the two men who would ultimately take on Bush and Cheney.
But a frosty welcome in Iowa does not doom a campaign. In 1992 Bill Clinton’s Arkansas charms failed to melt the hearts of caucus-goers. He could only snatch 3% of the vote and was immediately classified an underdog. But a campaign season initially dominated by the ambitions of independent billionaire Ross Perot became the springboard for the first baby-boomer president.
Many prominent Democrats had decided not to run against the incumbent President Bush, who had spectacularly chased Saddam Hussein out of Kuwait. Conventional wisdom stated Bush was in for a second term.
The “smart money” suggests the Republican era is about to end.
But another former resident of the governor’s mansion in Arkansas is making waves. Mike Huckabee, a Republican, guitar-playing Southern Baptist preacher famed for losing 50kg in a crash diet, has blazed in front of millionaire Mormon Mitt Romney.
Huckabee
Though ignored by the kingmakers of the Religious Right, his campaign has wooed Iowa. Should he triumph he will have stormed the establishment’s gates, perfectly.
Iowa, the home to 2.9 million Americans, will stage its “caucus” on January 3. This will help deciding who will represent the Democrats and the Republicans in November’s election.
Each state will have its say, but Iowa is the first to do so. If a front-runner does not emerge near the top the hype which has hitherto cloaked him or her will vaporise.
Similarly, a “dark horse” could bolt out of Iowa flushed with a new credibility – and may soon receive an influx of campaign donations.
The caucus involves a delightfully eccentric series of 1,784 neighbourhood gatherings where votes are taken.
Strange things happen when groups of people come together and talk politics. Millions have already been spent trying to influence these discussions which will have such out-of-proportion influence on US and world events.
Democrat Howard Dean had excited websurfers across the US and beyond in 2004 with his anti-war opinions and intelligent barbs. To college students and urban dwellers antagonised by the cowboy iconography of the Bush administration the doctor-turned-Vermont governor was the target of their dollars and dreams.
But Iowans took umbrage that Dean’s get-out-the-vote operation was titled The Perfect Storm. The residents of the northern state were familiar with the blast of an icy storm, and “perfect” was not the word they would use to describe the experience. Dean finished third in the caucus, behind John Kerry and John Edwards – the two men who would ultimately take on Bush and Cheney.
But a frosty welcome in Iowa does not doom a campaign. In 1992 Bill Clinton’s Arkansas charms failed to melt the hearts of caucus-goers. He could only snatch 3% of the vote and was immediately classified an underdog. But a campaign season initially dominated by the ambitions of independent billionaire Ross Perot became the springboard for the first baby-boomer president.
Many prominent Democrats had decided not to run against the incumbent President Bush, who had spectacularly chased Saddam Hussein out of Kuwait. Conventional wisdom stated Bush was in for a second term.
The “smart money” suggests the Republican era is about to end.
But another former resident of the governor’s mansion in Arkansas is making waves. Mike Huckabee, a Republican, guitar-playing Southern Baptist preacher famed for losing 50kg in a crash diet, has blazed in front of millionaire Mormon Mitt Romney.
Huckabee
Though ignored by the kingmakers of the Religious Right, his campaign has wooed Iowa. Should he triumph he will have stormed the establishment’s gates, perfectly.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Kubrick and Christmas
CHRISTMAS is a feast of light in the pitch-black night of winter.
People felt the urge to burn fires and beat drums at this time of year long before December 25 became a Christian festival. You’re following a glorious primeval instinct if you hammer a glowing reindeer onto a roof.
The Christmas story has an enchanting power with chimes with these longings for the luminous. This myth of a guiding star, a chorus of angels and a miraculous birth has spread across continents in 20 centuries and enthralled millions.
Its account of celestial light breaking out of darkness to greet shepherds with “tidings of great joy” is a declaration it is not folly to believe the universe is threaded with hope.
Unlike the families who have just wrapped dark trees in electric lights, the Nativity characters do nothing to rid their world of darkness. Rather the light comes from somewhere beyond their experience, promising “peace on earth”.
The story contrasts with the legend of Prometheus, the Titan who stole fire from Zeus to give it to humans and endured a hideous punishment.
Thomas Merton, my favourite monk, wrote, “Far from killing the man who seeks the divine fire, the Living God will Himself pass through death in order that man may have what is destined for him... There is nothing we can steal from Him at all, because before we can think of stealing it, it has already been given.”
The tension between the secular and the religious mind at the start of the 21st century comes when we ask whether we can hope in anything other than the resolve of human beings to abandon habits of destruction and build a better society.
Stanley Kubrick, the great and much-missed director of epochal films such as 2001 and Dr Strangelove held out no expectation of supernatural intervention.
In a 1968 interview he said, “The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death – however mutable Man may be able to make them – our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfilment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.”
Kubrick prized the harnessing of reason and delighted in the potential for human discovery. Yet he was appalled by the devastating light of the atom bomb which threatened to eliminate all life.
He was not interested in a light that came as a gift from the gods. But the mystery surrounding the manger is something deeper.
At the heart of the Christmas narrative is the story of a creator who refuses to be indifferent to nuclear terrors, who does not light up the sky and withdraw from his creation, but enters as a child a world destined not for destruction but rebirth.
People felt the urge to burn fires and beat drums at this time of year long before December 25 became a Christian festival. You’re following a glorious primeval instinct if you hammer a glowing reindeer onto a roof.
The Christmas story has an enchanting power with chimes with these longings for the luminous. This myth of a guiding star, a chorus of angels and a miraculous birth has spread across continents in 20 centuries and enthralled millions.
Its account of celestial light breaking out of darkness to greet shepherds with “tidings of great joy” is a declaration it is not folly to believe the universe is threaded with hope.
Unlike the families who have just wrapped dark trees in electric lights, the Nativity characters do nothing to rid their world of darkness. Rather the light comes from somewhere beyond their experience, promising “peace on earth”.
The story contrasts with the legend of Prometheus, the Titan who stole fire from Zeus to give it to humans and endured a hideous punishment.
Thomas Merton, my favourite monk, wrote, “Far from killing the man who seeks the divine fire, the Living God will Himself pass through death in order that man may have what is destined for him... There is nothing we can steal from Him at all, because before we can think of stealing it, it has already been given.”
The tension between the secular and the religious mind at the start of the 21st century comes when we ask whether we can hope in anything other than the resolve of human beings to abandon habits of destruction and build a better society.
Stanley Kubrick, the great and much-missed director of epochal films such as 2001 and Dr Strangelove held out no expectation of supernatural intervention.
In a 1968 interview he said, “The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death – however mutable Man may be able to make them – our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfilment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.”
Kubrick prized the harnessing of reason and delighted in the potential for human discovery. Yet he was appalled by the devastating light of the atom bomb which threatened to eliminate all life.
He was not interested in a light that came as a gift from the gods. But the mystery surrounding the manger is something deeper.
At the heart of the Christmas narrative is the story of a creator who refuses to be indifferent to nuclear terrors, who does not light up the sky and withdraw from his creation, but enters as a child a world destined not for destruction but rebirth.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Happy Birthday, Mike!
Earlier today I returned from the most spectacular birthday celebration I've ever had the great fortune to experience.
Mike, a master wordsmith and a fellow survivor of the Aberdeen winters, decided New York was a good place to 30.
A lot of grand ideas which are discussed over a glass of Bushmills by a roaring fire vanish like smoke. But on Saturday we were standing on the Staten Island ferry.
As you can see, we became good friends with Robert de Niro.
By a fantastic coincidence two of our best friends, Oliver and Gill, were in the same city.
Oliver, who ice-climbs for fun, said sitting in a parlour in Harlem listening to jazz was one of the most remarkable experiences of his life. We followed his advice and travelled north until we reached the home of Marge Eliot, an amazing woman who opens her apartment to some of the city's finest jazz musicians every Sunday afternoon.
About 40 of us squeezed into Mrs Eliot's kitchen and living space. There must have been nearly as many nations represented. Dusk fell and a small group of performers worked their way through soaring spirituals and wonderful jazz. I reckon you can get a better hint of what heaven will be like by dropping by that Harlem address than sitting in an empty gilded cathedral.
Manhattan may have once been notorious as a citadel of vice and gangsterism, but today the streets feel safer than London's. A taxi driver put the transformation down to a policy of "shooting druggies".
The city's once again a shopper's dream.
Its combination of incredible food and brilliant journalism creates an unrivalled breakfast experience.
The museums are home to a staggering repository of art. If masterpieces were aeroplanes every street corner would have an airport.
I was captivated by Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth, on display at the Museum of Modern Art. He sought to portray the spiritual depths of a young crippled neighbour. Every blade of grass is detailed in a work which conveys both the immediate bareness of her surroundings and the remarkable mysteries within.
MoMA is a more marvellous creation than many of the exhibits it houses, although this imagining of John the Baptist is stunning.
Yet nothing compares to the unique art of the city itself. This incredible creation rose on the banks of the New World.
Mike and I rode the subway out to Coney Island to glimpse an America beyond Fifth Avenue.
Coney Island is home to perhaps the world's most famous hot dogs. The welcome from the staff contrasted with the damp chill of the December seafront. And the hot dogs deliver taste sensations which thrill and satisfy in equal measure.
I don't think this has anything to do with the Popes.
Coney Island in winter is near-deserted. This is waterside living as envisaged by David Lynch.
But even the director of The Elephant Man might find some of the attractions too reminiscent of the worst type of Victorian carnival.
Just as fascinating are the industrial ruins and chemical skyline seen from the train on a trip into New Jersey.
If the uncanny bleakness of the surrounding communities gets too much for you, one antidote is an ice-skating session at the Rockefeller Centre.
Choosing your Chinese food can be quite a scary experience.
Ben and Alex are fantastic siblings. They never use automatic weapons to settle debates.
It was cold enough for the ponds in Central Park to freeze.
In our last hours in the city we visited Strawberry Fields, the John Lennon memorial.
Central Park is the leveller in this most unequal of cities. It is a landscape shared by tramps and billionaires. Its greatest treasure is the Bethesda Fountain and Terrace.
New York puts a light in your eyes. It's the Venice of our day, the pulse of the world.
I can't wait to go back.
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