Poem of the Week

In honor of both the stormy weather of late and the building anticipation for our weekend trip...

Once by the Pacific

The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God’s last Put out the Light was spoken.

— Robert Frost

Happy 70th Birthday Monsieur Dylan

To celebrate the big man's birthday tomorrow (and because I'm sort of on a Bob kick), here's an enjoyable playlist option via French Slate:

"Pour souffler les 70 bougies du chanteur américain, convoquons 70 titres remarquables classés en dix thèmes."

It's basically a compilation of his work organized into 10 themes. 

A Video Is Worth a Thousand Cheers

In the interest of brevity, no explanation is needed. This Escape from Enron Field in Houston (ahem, excuse me, Minute Maid Park) is just freaking awesome. Kudos to this guy for his athleticism, and for not getting arrested.

Chuckle and frown

It's here if you can't read it: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2124/5707224895_732b7f3f8f_o.jpg

Lessons Learned

Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

-Classic Bob Dylan lyric, from the excellent My Back Pages

Well, with less denial, fanfare, and/or total legacy destruction than Brett Favre, I’m entering the twilight of my [first] working life. I graduated almost three years ago and am now in the final weeks of working my second job since those glory days of debarking in DC – getting off the plane, brimming with excitement, instructing the cab driver to please take me to my new address, and hearing him respond by refusing to drive me there and asking me if my parents knew I was living there because “it was no place for a lady.” And no, I wasn't moving to the Red Light District.

I’ll be entering graduate school in the fall and enjoying some summer months of traveling and "hanging out" with family and friends in between.

As I move on to this next stage - in addition to some of the more general self-reflection I should now be engaging in (Must. Find. Direction.), I’ve been asking myself lately what I’ve gotten out of my first three years of working life.

The short answer is, perhaps unsurprisingly, quite a lot. In particular, I figured out some of the things that I don’t want to do (be a lawyer; enable the questionable practices of rich executives; work in Afghanistan; ever live apart from Watson. I mean, Gen, again; work somewhere that blocks Pandora; be late to a World Bank Conference when they are serving those awesome mini croissants; etc.).

Of course, the longer answer is a bit more complicated, especially when you factor in certain wrinkles such as the fact that I'm still figuring out how important my professional identity and goals are to me versus the rest of my sense of self and my ambitions and how I define and seek out "work" versus how I define and pursue intellectual fulfillment.

Regardless (and back to the short answer), the truth is that I learned a tremendous amount in terms of practical skills (oh sweet! so this is how you print double sided), people relations (when someone asks for your "honest assessment," that is a factually incorrect statement), and expanded my knowledge of unique industries and areas of research exponentially (ask me about land titling lotteries in West Africa sometime).

Below are some of my lessons learned. I'd love to hear what other peoples' are?

1. Perhaps of most importance… how to make coffee (and Ravioli Jamboree… but that’s a story for another day).
2. How not to be offended when you notice that no one else drinks the coffee pot you made and if by mistake they do they grimace and immediately dump it out.
3. Always keep a Tide to go pen in your office because Sriracha Sauce can be lethal.
4. Take full advantage of your Outlook calendar (but don't be that executive who calendars time to remember to play with his kids).
5. At some point you (or someone tangent to you) will incriminate/embarrass/screw up some form of email correspondence via such unfortunate booby traps as the Reply All function. This can only end badly. Don't for example by mistake email your superior THIS PICTURE with the subject line “Looking Sexy” when you think you're emailing Gen. The good news is that people eventually get over most things...
6. When writing – less is ALWAYS more. (Credit to my Dad). Except that this is a false "Lesson Learned" because in case you can't tell by the length of this post, I'm still incapable of this.
   
7. No matter how many times you tell your grandmother not to skype you when you’re at work and that you only have Skype on because you’re expecting an ipmortant call from a colleague in Egypt… she will skype you. And if you don’t answer, she will call you 5 more times until you do. And the ring tone will be inappropriate and/or embarrassing.
8. You can get anywhere (if desperate enough) in DC in 15 minutes. You might be sweaty when you've arrived and have ripped your pencil skirt. You can also easily prolong what should be a 5 minute errand on a nice day into a 30 minute one. You might be sweaty when you arrive and have a milkshake spilled on your pencil skirt.
9. Wear tights in the winter. Keep cardigans and scarves around (even if your boyfriend makes jokes about you being eurotrash), it gets really cold in offices. Keep a suit jacket, heels, a hair tie, aspirin, a water bottle, a mug, an extra bag, an extra tupperware in your office. If your office is DC think tank intramural sports inclined - keep an extra set of gym clothes around. You never know when some idiot ring wing nut needs you to lay down the law on the Ultimate Frisbee field.
10. Even when you don't think you can, if you have to, you can always - truly and completely wing it. It helps to throw in terms such as "paradigm shift," "due diligence," "stakeholders," "results oriented," "sustainable," and "multidisciplinary."
11. A holiday party no matter where and with who you work is a total shitshow where all basic human dignity goes out the door. The day after said holiday party (when you have an 8 am client meeting with the coworker you don't really know very well but found yourself enthusiastically singing Like A Virgin with at 2 am in Korea town the night before) is the worse day ever.
12. Saudi Arabian government and business leaders will not ride in the elevator with you (assuming you are a lady) -- do not try to combat their medieval social mores by tricking via a last second surprise elevator jump in as the door closes. They will freak out. Binders will be spilled. Manly shrieking will occur. The translator will be knocked over.
13. Working out at the office gym means seeing certain things you’d prefer not to see and having some conversations you'd prefer not to have.
14. Do not eat Greek Deli and/or any of the Farrugut North localized food carts before a long meeting. You will start nodding off around Slide 8.
15. I realize I have zero credibility here - but it is [almost] ALWAYS a bad idea to become romantically involved with a coworker. It will NEVER stay a secret. Your litmus test should be... would you ever start a blog with them? bahah.
    
16. As much as I’d love a stay-at-home husband, it’s really hard to be full-time working when your friends, family, sig other, [someone close to you] is enjoying "working remotely" or funemployment (read basically laying around your apartment pool with breaks to pound beers and reapply tanning lotion all day to the point that you begin to feel like you’re dating a Jersey Shore cast member who perpetually smells like coconuts... god...thank god that's over)
17. www.Zooborns.com can get you through any tough morning. No website will ever be better than this one. Except for maybe cuteroulette.com
    
18. It doesn’t matter how idealistic or “good” the organization you work for is or how egalitarian and positive you believe and/or state that your personal beliefs and philosophies to be, if you’re treat people unkindly or unfairly in your everyday. You can't both claim to be saving eskimo refugee babies in guatemala and also do things like talk to administrative staff like they're idiots or tip poorly. or for that matter, sexually assault maids (too soon?)
    
19. People keep things in their offices that they shouldn’t keep there. Sometimes you come across said belongings by mistake and it can be quite traumatizing.
20. A surprising number of male execs get manicures.

That’s all for now...

Maybe the better question is - what do I still NOT know. That list would begin with the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning...

back when I was a young, inexperienced professional

Public Service Announcement

Something is wrong with our blog and all of the comments were deleted! As was my brilliant post were I finally discovered the holy grail -a recipe for a calorie free sweetener that tastes exactly like real sugar - and Gen's fantastic piece of investigative journalism on corruption at the highest ranks of Groupon! Now we'll never get those millions or that Pulitzer.

[Ok, that second statement is a lie. For better or worse, all of our musings remain.]

Not sure what happened. Google big brother moment? Nadia technology snafu? Hacker with an agenda censorship? CIA interference (and yet, unlike Bin Laden's computer, there was nothing x-rated on here!)? Ahh. The stuff of tragicomedy.

I'll have someone who knows what they're doing look into it (Z-Shoup are you free? favor for a sister wife?) and in the mean time I apologize to our loyal readers.

Courtesy of Hao

Need something to read?

Nearly 100 Fantastic Pieces of Journalism from 2010

Unrelated - this is pretty crazy.



Maybe I shouldn't post this on a day where it's thunderstorming in DC and Gen has to fly in to Reagan...

Thursday Off-Topic Post

Soooo....a few things I've noticed. One, it might be getting way too serious around here. Between Gen expressing deepfelt love for Nadia, philosophical takes on bin Laden's death and Guantanamo, and poetry, well we have some 'splaining to do.

Second, we have three official followers! Thank you to James, Mary Kate and Jeanine! All we need now is a Frank, Chet, Bess, and Marvin, and we can write our own Hardy Boys & Nancy Drew novel.

Mary Kate, Jeanine, and James read Blog Built for Two together

Since my name is Gen, I will probably have to be the oriental villain in this mystery novel, but I'm ok with that as long as we preserve a wholesome, 1950's American image. Just kidding. Thank you guys. I appreciate you signing up. We've received some positive feedback on a handful of our posts and it's been interesting to see what types of Google searches get redirected to our blog. Who whould have known that there are Romanian pornstars named Gen and Nadia? Crazy.

So, I promise this has a point. Given that we could use a little less serious/more fun and I am curious to know who our readership is, how about some off-topic interactive questions for everyone. I'm bored. Here we go.


What is the worst thing about the city you live in now?
Have you ever been to Africa? Do you want to go?
What is the saddest song you can think of?
What is your favorite wine?
What is the best vacation you have ever taken?
Do you cry during movies? If so, which ones/what kind of films?

I will answer first to get this going.


1. Other than the overall crime rate in St. Louis, lack of easy access to the ocean. The mighty Mississippi and Ozarks are really cool, but it doesn't beat the sea.
2. Never been. Would love to go...to some places, like Kenya, South Africa, Morocco, Egypt. I would take a pass on places like Congo and the Central African Republic.
3. This is next to impossible to answer. But three songs immediately come to mind: "A Change is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke, Johnny Cash's remake of "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails, and "The River by Bruce Springsteen.

4. I'm a big fan of Cameron Hughes' new releases, particularly his Napa Cabernet.
5. This is a tough one - I would probably have to say Panama with Nadia. But I've taken a lot of great vacations.
6. I don't usually cry during movies, but three scenes have got the best of me. First, the end scene from The Shawshank Redemption where Morgan Freeman reads the note left for him by Tim Robbins under the tree, leaves the halfway house room where Brooks had previously committed suicide, and hops a bus to Mexico. Second, the final scene in Field of Dreams where Kevin Costner plays catch with his dad's ghost. Third, the scene in Saving Private Ryan where the old Private Ryan in the cemetery asks his wife to tell him that he's lived a good life and that he's a good person.

Writer's Block

I should thank Nadia for blogging in my absence. The last couple weeks have been a whirlwind with final exams, papers, and presentations in school, landing a new job for the summer, and the random tasks that add-up on your to-do list but don't actually get done until the very last minute...suspending mail and magazine delivery, refilling flea medication for my dog Watson, writing thank you notes to all the people who have made my first year in graduate school such a great one, etc. It's been a whirlwind of insanity and taking care of the 'stuff' in life that none of us want to do, but have to do lest we be labeled an irresponsible slob. Anyways, after all this settled down, I came back to Kansas to spend some time with my parents and I made a promise to myself: "thou shalt blog everyday. NO EXCUSES, PLAY LIKE A CHAMPION". Or something like that. Anyways, that hasn't happened. I've been the Los Angeles Lakers' of couples bloggers in that I am extremely frustrated because I haven't generated any results. As a truly honest Charlie Sheen would say, I'm bi-losing. And, next time I see Jose Juan Barea I'm taking off my shirt and elbowing him in the face (illustration).

Mr. Barea, meet Gen of writer's block fame

Hit the showers and don't leave your keyboard until you've hit the 'Publish Post' button

My confession to you is that I haven't wrote anything because I am having a serious case of writer's block. For those of you who like to write/blog, you know how frustrating this affliction is. Why? Because it's nearly impossible to pinpoint where it is coming from. Because you feel stupid. Because you don't feel like yourself. And this has been one of those weeks where, for some reason I have not felt like myself. Something is missing. What is it?

I read a great column today that described home as something you feel when you are in a descending airplane. In other words, you look out the window, out over the landscape, and maybe you count swimming pools in backyards, look for famous landmarks, or you follow the sunlight in the water or you marvel at how slowly the cars seem to move. And there's a feeling you have. When I land at Tokyo Narita Airport, I feel this buzz of excitement. The same is true for many other places I've visited in recent years - Panama, Iceland, San Francisco, New York, London, etc. It's that feeling you get when you feel on top of the world, and as you're coming down, you think, "Oh man...I've arrived".

But flying into a city and feeling, "Oh, I'm HOME" ... that's something different. In the words of Joe Posnanski, "There's something deeper, something that is wordless, a sense that you are going to the one place that makes you feel centered and comfortable and even a bit certain." That place, so eloquently described, is Home for me. And the more time I've spent at "home" in Salina, Kansas, pop. >50,000 (but they're ordering a recount), stomping ground of my youth, the only city I called 'Home' growing up, the more I realize that this is no longer my Home in the sense that I described above. This is a place where my parents live, whom I love very much. But as far as Salina, Kansas the 'Home' goes, I've moved on. Now that I'm in Salina, I feel like Odysseus when he returned from his years in the wilderness at sea, and only his faithful dog Argos recognizes him because his experiences have fundamentally transformed who he is.

I only wear Under Armour brand tunics, and Watson is not this big

Since leaving Salina at the ripe age of 18, I've been a wandering soul. I have lived in Princeton, NJ, Kanazawa, Japan, New York City, Washington, DC, and now, St. Louis. I've studied, I've worked, I've volunteered, I've partied, I've traveled, I've fallen out of love with girls/music/sports/authors/blogs and fallen back in love again, and all of these experiences have made me a different person than who I was when I left.

The past few days, I've had the freedom of post-finals relaxation and reflection, away from that tidal wave of stuff that is my life. I've sat here at a keyboard and hammered out half-assed drafts of blog entries. I've taken Watson for long walks. I've tried (and failed) to go fishing. I've caught up with old friends. I've watched movies, and read books. And the entire time I've felt restless and incapable of sustaining a coherent thought process. So, what is missing? Well, either I am missing a diagnosis for attention-deficit disorder, or I'm missing Nadia.

I'm 99.9% certain it is the latter. Because as I've come to realize over the past year, no matter where I go and how far away I am from Nadia in DC, she is always on my mind. Nadia, and the memories we have made, are now Home to me. And that is a great thing for us. If I have to take my time sitting here frustrated at the keyboard, until the words that I want to say come pouring out and allow me to write again, then so be it: Nadia, I miss you and love you. And I can't wait to come Home to you.

This Saturday, May 14, I eagerly await the time when my plane descends to Reagan National in D.C. I will go through the demanded security routine of putting up my tray table and seat, then will go through my personal routine of raising the blind, staring out at the tidal basin, marveling at the setting sun, gazing at the Pentagon or Washington Monument (depending on what side of the plane I am on), guffawing at the sad saps backed up in traffic on M St in Georgetown...until I am jolted by the plane touching down on the tarmac. I will turn on my cell phone, and I will call Nadia to let her know I have arrived. And I'll hop in a cab, and those 30 minutes will feel both like the longest and shortest 30 minutes of my life. At Rhode Island and N, I'll get out of the cab, grab my bags, tip the driver, and walk up the apartment steps. And when I see Nadia's face, I will smile as wide as the Grand Canyon. Because I am Home.

So come Saturday, May 14, approximately 627 p.m. I advise everyone in the Dupont Circle area of DC to wear shades. Gen is coming Home to Nadia, and the light about to be unleashed from the heavens is bright as f**k.

It's on. Mama, I'm coming home.

DC Seasonal Recommendation (tragically after the fact)

On a run up Mass Ave, just as I was passing National Cathedral, I chanced upon the All Hallows Guild annual Flower Mart hosted there. It was a sunny day and looked intriguing so I stopped by (read I was winded by the deceptive Embassy Row uphill and saw a sign for Brat Wurst).

I'm no gardening expert (my Mom's green thumb missed me and plants tend to wither on my watch) but I was pretty impressed with the organic sod, geraniums, musical numbers, artisanal bird feeders, cute little old men in aprons, etc. all around me.




Unfortunately the festival ended today but I recommended checking it out next year - especially if you've never visited the National Cathedral and its Bishop's Garden and Olmsted Wood (and lean towards similar senior citizen-esque tendencies).

Generally the residential area around there is lovely for running/strolling/walking Watson and it's quite close to some other nice DC spots (woodley park area, national zoo, dupont circle, rock creek park, Belgian Embassy!!!!, etc.). Although, if you have my sense of direction, maybe cnosult a map on your way back (I got very lost and fenced in on Saint Alban's ginormous, uber preppy, fortified campus and I think creeped some young boys out. Oops.).

Oh and the Cathedral does a lot of concerts. We saw Handel's Messiah there around Christmas and it was great (ok and sort of exhausting).

Weekend Poem

On The Origins Of Things

Everyone knows that the moon started out

as a renegade fragment of the sun, a solar

flare that fled that hellish furnace

and congealed into a flat frozen pond suspended

between the planets. But did you know

that anger began as music, played

too often and too loudly by drunken performers

at weddings and garden parties? Or that turtles

evolved from knuckles, ice from tears, and darkness

from misunderstanding? As for the dominant

thesis regarding the origin of love, I

abstain from comment, nor will I allow

myself to address the idea that dance

began as a kiss, that happiness was

an accidental import from Spain, that the ancient

game of jump-the-fire gave rise

to politics. But I will confess

that I began as an astronomer—a liking

for bright flashes, vast distances, unreachable things,

a hand stretched always toward the furthest limit—

and that my longing for you has not taken me

very far from that original desire

to inscribe a comet's orbit around the walls

of our city, to gently stroke the surface of the stars.

-Troy Jollimore (yes, that's really his name)

i can't stop laughing at this

bahaha:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-uQWNd540I&feature=player_embedded#at=101

le weekend

Congrats Gen! Done with finals!

What Gen is probably doing right now

Cartoonists Having a Field Day with this One

Bossypants Highlights

Last night I stayed up until ungodly hours reading Tina Fey's new book Bossypants.

The memoir-ish panoply of hysterical anecdotes and musings (or as the NYT book review put it, "spiky blend of humor, introspection, critical thinking and Nora Ephron-isms for a new generation. ") was borrowed from a good friend and based on her recommendation. In fact, I knew it would be funny because said friend shares some of my issues with Ms. Fey's general schtick (issues elucidated by this reviewer) and still really enjoyed the book.

AND it was quite funny.

Some choice representative excerpts;

Typical Fey humor:

If you had told me when I was a kid that I would grow up to sit through the annual NBC Employee Sexual Harassment Seminar fourteen times, I would have said, "What's 'sexual harassment'?" because Clarence Thomas didn't invent that until the early nineties."

Self-deprecating humor (it does start to grate after a while):

"Carlock and I can't believe we used to complain about the hours at SNL, which now seem like a cakewalk. Especially for me, because that's all I did my first two years at SNL: walk around and look for cake"

Relaying her experience w. the travails of girl teendom:

“I knew from commercials that one’s menstrual period was a blue liquid you poured like laundry detergent onto maxi pads to test their absorbency,” she writes.

Acknowledgment of her newly found fame:

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am all about money. I mean, just look how well my line of zodiac-inspired toe rings and homeopathic children’s medications are selling on Home Shopping Network.

A lot bout her baby:

I had to get back to work. NBC has me under contract. The baby and I only have a verbal agreement.

and righteous not so veiled anger (F you C-Hitchens, I'm still pissed about your 2007 Women Aren't Funny vanity fair article):

“I don’t like Chinese food, but that doesn’t mean I go around making arguments about how Chinese food doesn’t exist. Women ARE funny, and the fact that you don’t get the humor doesn’t make them any less humorous.”

Unsurprisingly - some Palin/Republican zingers (this is the woman who wrote the line, "I believe marriage is meant to be a sacred institution between two unwilling teenagers." :

Politics and prostitution have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff? “I’m not one of those fancy Harvard heart surgeons. I’m just an unlicensed plumber with a dream and I’d like to cut your chest open.” The crowd cheers.

A few months after our friendly chat about kids (and my condescending remarks about New York), Mrs. Palin told conservative filmmaker John Ziegler that Katie Couric and I had exploited and profited by her family. But I know better than to respond to attacks in the media. Although if I were to respond, I would probably just say, “Nice reality show.”

And finally something I can identify with:

Why could I never remember? That feeling of “I’m pretty sure this next step is wrong, but I’m just gonna do it anyway” is part of the same set of instincts that makes me such a great cook.

Climbing to [comedy world] success! Woo hoo!

On a lighter note

Reason 13,423 to love Michele Obama.

Sidenote: What would the state of the nation be if I was FLOTUS and our children's health was dependent on my ability to dougie in public to promote children's health?! Everyone would be obese.

Untitled

One of the astute observations I've heard in reaction to Osama bin Laden's death is the commentary on the discrepancy between the emotion his death conjured and the total lack of interest or response so many Americans have in terms of the war in Afghanistan, the US's involvement in Iraq, and (perhaps less surprisingly) the continued travesty that is Guantanamo. I'm not sure what this disinterest of so many (and I mean - clearly - those who aren't being asked to fight or to see their loved ones off to fight) in Afghanistan reflects. I do find the dulled acceptance that Guantanamo is still open by so many of us - particularly as details continue to emerge... sickening.

Lest anyone think real information is being obtained from the torture of Guantanamo's prisoners... read on:

"Doctors" at Gitmo'

Excuse not to work

Interesting piece in last week's New Yorker.

The Consequentalist: How the Arab Spring remade Obama's foreign policy

I found this article fascinating for a lot of reasons – the Clinton/Gates relationship, comparative look at Holbrooke’s views, semi-insider summary of dynamics between state department and White House (at one point – Holbrooke’s widow is quoted as saying after reviewing her husband’s memos and archives, she realizes that they “tell a dramatic story of a fractured relationship between the state department and the White House.” Eek political intrigue! Oh no she dinttt), etc.

In particular, I found especially curious what the article says about the role of women in the administration and in the state department and the implications for foreign policy. Much was already said on this - particularly around the initial days of air strikes in Libya - and the term "hawks" has been thrown around a bit but the excerpt below - despite its simplistic black and white take - does parallel what I often feel like I see in the development industry I currently work in (read there are ONLY women) and is consistent with what I constantly encountered among my peers as I visited IR graduate school open houses this past Spring (read the boys want to study security and anti-terrorism, the girls want to study human rights and economic development).

One suggestion that came up in interviews with Obama’s current and former foreign-policy advisers was that the Administration’s policy debates sometimes broke down along gender lines. The realists who view foreign policy as a great chess game—and who want to focus on China and India—are usually men. The idealists, who talk about democracy and human rights, are often women. (White House officials told me that this critique is outlandish.)

Slaughter, who admired Clinton but felt alienated by people at the White House, resigned in February, and in her farewell speech at the State Department she described a gender divide at the heart of Obama’s foreign-policy team. She argued that in the twenty-first century America needed to focus on societies as well as on states. “Unfortunately, the people who focus on those two worlds here in Washington are still often very different groups. The world of states is still the world of high politics, hard power, realpolitik, and, largely, men,” she said. “The world of societies is still too often the world of low politics, soft power, human rights, democracy, and development, and, largely, women. One of the best parts of my two years here has been the opportunity to work with so many amazing and talented women—truly extraordinary people. But Washington still has a ways to go before their voices are fully heard and respected.”

hmmm, all in all, I don't know what to think. I guess regardless the larger question in the article that I found interesting didn't revolve so much about the gender divide among foreign policy philosophies (which I just have to think is a questionable claim) as much as the ways in which career "experts" and technocrats serving as advisors end up influencing elected leaders (who also have to factor in constituents and re-election)...

A Different Take on bin Laden's death

This post is a modified e-mail response I wrote to a close friend. I agree with most, if not all, of Nadia's points. But I take a slightly different perspective.

First, I agree that the American triumphalist attitude towards bin Laden's death is not productive. To think that killing ONE MAN, after all, is either some sort of sign that America is winning the War on Terror or a validation of the belief that America always comes out on top is a ludicrous, childish argument to make. America has a long ways to go on both fronts. In addition, I don't know whether bin Laden's death prescribes justice for the victims of 9/11. Perhaps it does. But I will say that I was uncomfortable when President Obama, in his address to the nation, declared that justice for the 9/11 victims has been served. Osama bin Laden's death does not change the fact that the person they loved is never coming back. Justice for the dead is difficult. For these people who have lost family and friends in ways I cannot understand or comprehend, regardless of whether they perceive that justice has been served, going forward in a post-bin Laden world, I think that honoring the sacrifices made by those they love consists primarily in living good lives in honor/memory of the dead.

However, there is no doubt in my mind that a more cosmic, universal justice was served with Osama bin Laden's death, and I unashamedly celebrate that justice. I pity bin Laden and pray for his soul, but his violent death is a logical conclusion to the premise of his life. My reasoning is as follows: Osama bin Laden made rational, deliberate choices, of his own accord without being forced, to live a life of indiscriminate killing and violence. And when you live a life of violence, you by extension choose a violent death. This death may involve bodily violence ending in the death of your body, or psychological violence ending in the death of your soul, or both. Live by the sword, die by the sword.

In this sense of justice, Osama bin Laden received EXACTLY what he deserved, and I celebrate that this justice was done. I have read numerous bin Laden obituaries today, but basically the overarching portrait is that he was more than a "terrorist". He was a psychotic, mass murderer of the most evil kind. I say that because he was given all the tools in life (intelligence, wealth, charisma, political savvy, ambition, a strong family) to be a productive, helpful, even extraordinary citizen. Instead, he chose to employ all of those privileges to bring about destruction and death. He added no value to this world, only destroyed what value was there. He used his assets and education to facilitate and finance the murder of Muslim and non-Muslim civilians. He used his political savvy and ambition to slander an entire Muslim people and the Islam faith with his violence, adding to their sense of isolation, disenfranchisement, and shame. He used his charisma and intelligence not to enlighten the Arab world, but to manipulate angry, vulnerable Muslims to take up arms in a state of perpetual war against the West. He used his family ties as a platform to rail against the moral corruption of the West, all while living his own family life in Wahhabist hypocrisy where he fathered dozens of children in and out of wedlock and beat his wives. At all major turning points in his life where he was faced with an ethical choice, he chose the path of violence and hatred. Worst of all, he fully embraced those violent choices. He had multiple opportunities in the 1980's and 1990's to engage the West and Saudi Arabia diplomatically rather than violently. He could have chosen to be a leader of reform in Arab states, championing political and social reform that we KNOW now through the recent revolutions that many Arab citizens want (what those reforms are, however, is a gray issue). Even at the very end, he could have chosen to surrender to US Navy Seals instead of trying to kill them in a shootout. But Osama bin Laden always made the violent choice: his life is defined by indiscriminate murder, arms dealing, drug trading, and manipulation, all driven by a violent hatred of America and the West. Violent actions and thoughts provoke violent reactions. This is the balance of the universe. For this reason, I think that his life ending in a hail of gunfire is true justice. In death as in life, Osama bin Laden reaped what he had sowed based on his past decisions.

Some people have told me that he deserves mournfulness and even a little degree of respect, and I say why? Murderous, manipulative people like him will never, ever receive mournfulness or respect from me. I think his death merits a triumphal response from the world community, that such a negative influence on the world is gone. Today, I do not triumph knowing that Americans killed bin Laden. But, I am happy that he is dead. I am relieved that a person who would blindly show no hesitation to kill you, me, my family, or my friends based on our U.S. citizenship alone will no longer be able to perpetuate such acts of evil. Osama bin Laden's death, to me personally as a citizen of the world, is a reaffirmation of my deeply held belief that revolutionary and religious movements founded in violent actions will not succeed.

Finally, I acknowledge the point made by some that it's hard to be proud to be an American when the public images of other Americans waving American flags and chanting "U.S.A." fail to rise above the predictable, and ultimately unproductive, triumphalist response. One of the better points I've heard in the reflections on what bin Laden's death means is that the images of mostly young Americans celebrating bin Laden's death in the streets is not that different from the images of mostly young Muslims celebrating the fall of the Twin Towers on 9/11. If Americans want to truly have a sense of triumphalism, then I would hope that our actions reflect that we are better than that.

But I would also argue that without a sense of healthy patriotism, without pride in who you are, you are no one. I think that you should always be proud of your identity and, in instances where you're disappointed in those who share that identity, work to help them rise above. I am proud, today and everyday, to be American, Japanese, of Scottish descent, and a citizen of the world, because it is who I am. I am proud of these parts of my identity because they form who I am and were given to me by the blood, sweat, and tears of my ancestors, so that I could persist in my mission to rise above to where I am today. And even if it really is only one man, I am glad that Osama bin Laden will no longer be able to prevent myself or others from pursuing that mission on this Earth.

Observation's on Osama's Demise

Last night, believing that I was getting in to bed to finally finish Season 1 of Sons of Anarchy (aka In Which Nadia Falls Head Over Heels for a Brawny Fictional Biker Hunk Named Jax) following an action packed weekend [Recommended: the new Yards Park by the Nat's stadium, Mary McLeod Bethune Council House museum (particularly if she is one of your childhood heroes), Kushi's grilled bacon wrapped asparagus skewers; Not So Recommended: Georgetown French Festival, the Dothraki sex scenes in this week's Game of Thrones episode which appear to be set in a Wigwam, mistaking "Guacamole Flavored Dip" for Guacamole at Safeway when your one task was to bring Guacamole to your friends' taco night.], I received a phone call from my sister alerting me to the fact that President Obama was about to announce the death of Osama Bin Laden.

I proceeded to watch Obama's speech, which left me unsettled, then went to bed - still oddly discontented, had a really bizarre dream where I was basically a Rambo-esque character in what might have been Morocco, and woke up this morning still feeling strange. And yes, I completely missed the celebrations which unfolded apparently blocks from my apartment.

I've been thinking about why I felt off all day in assessing this Event. Here are my observations:

1) A few friends have quoted this Mark Twain line to me in connection with Bin Laden's end, "I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure." If there was ever an instance where this statement should be fitting, I'd think it would be this one. Yet, I have to admit I just don't feel happiness or relief at hearing of Bin Laden's death. I certainly feel moved by the evocations of 9/11 - respectful of the loss and suffering - and I certainly hope for a sense of closure and justice for the families of victims. Further, surveying this from the gray world of international conflict and modern warfare, I don't necessarily stand opposed to such targeted killings.

Yet, I just can't find it in me to celebrate assassination - even if it's that of a mass-murderer. I am even bothered by the expressions all around me of ebullience and the not very funny Bin Laden mocking/puns and over the top celebratory statements. Is it only when we barely beat small Eastern European countries in the World Cup and in shooting down enemies that we express a sense of national unity? I'm uncomfortable with the triumphalist tone of it all (Facebook statuses today ranged from amusing to horrifying). It strikes me as barbaric to celebrate revenge and violence in this way, particularly so immediately and with so little reflection. Aren't we supposed to be evolved from the times of Roman victory parades? (or maybe I just remain a staunch Vercingetorix supporter after years of reading Asterix & Obelisk)

2) It does feel like the marker of something - I'm just not sure what. I don't think the world that woke up this morning without Osama Bin Laden is any different then the world of the last few years with him in it. It certainly felt just as hysterical. We were told that we were both safer with him dead and in greater danger. Maybe it's just the sense of the passage of time. A whole decade since 9/11.

3) In reading today's papers, it's odd to think that the various Osama obituaries, like many famous peoples', had likely been written months, if not years, in advance. There's something strange and haunting to me about that.... kinda cryptic about picturing a journalist writing away, capturing someone's life in a few pages, before it's even over, reduction to the sum of its parts.

4) This looks incredibly bad for Pakistan/American relations. I mean, "When the end came for Bin Laden, he was found not in the remote tribal areas along the Pakistani-Afghan border where he has long been presumed to be sheltered, but in a massive compound about an hour’s drive north from the Pakistani capital of Islamabad. He was hiding in the medium-sized city of Abbottabad, home to a large Pakistani military base and a military academy of the Pakistani Army...The house at the end of a narrow dirt road was roughly eight times larger than other homes in the area.."

Really...? great collaboration guys. Clear intelligence sharing going on.

5) Finally, I kept wondering about the woman who is mentioned in passing in so many articles as having been a collateral death - used as "a human shield" and shot dead.