Yesterday I sat in my comfy chair, with my computer on my lap, and wrote for five or six hours straight. Sun streamed in through our big bay window, looking just that much brighter for being rare, until of course the clouds came in with a dashing of hail and wind and rain. Sun, rain, sun, rain. Monkey-showers and more tiny, instantly melting hail.
Christien and I walked through the park in the late afternoon (late afternoon here is 3:30, the sun is going down by 4) -- through the marshy grass, and mouldering leaves. Bare oaks and cedars. I'm not sure if I've written yet about the oak trees here ... I will, and will use pictures too, at some point. They are amazing--enormous, knotty, twisted, slicked with moss--mostly bare now. The silhouette of an oak at the top of a darkening hillside is enough to send me deep into an English novel moment ... some kind of half-real, half-literary experience where the slanting light through branches and the half-remembered words of Austen or Hardy or Elliot or Bronte ripple through my body like water over pebbles (words along the spine).
We made lentil loaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, brussels sprouts, apple cake (and you all know already about the tangy pickled beets alternative to cranberries ... ah well, it was red). A luxury of food! We drank cider and watched the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving show (albeit not as good as Halloween or Xmas).
And then we were able to see our families (actually in real-time) via computer! What a world we live in. What a way to stretch out the day perfectly--to be able to travel at the speed of light (almost) all the way across the Atlantic, across the continent, into those living rooms that are so loved and missed. Not as good as being there, but amazing all the same.
For all the trials and frustration, the worry (and I am a worrier) and stress, confusion--how amazing to be here now, to have the chance to spend 6 hours writing my new novel, to be able to eat mashed potatoes and gravy, to talk to family. And when I think of the state of the world, the lives of hunger, poverty and distress--there are no words for how amazed and grateful I am to be here. And of course it is only because our family have loved us and supported us in all our half-brained, willful, oddball, artsy schemes.
So, although not a stir was made here in the UK over such an American holiday ... I feel as though this Thanksgiving was one of my most significant--because for all its loneliness, it has helped me to remember just how much I have to be thankful for. So ... thank you.
Friday 27 November 2009
Sunday 22 November 2009
Surveillance and Fear
A few weeks ago I received a notice from Swansea U.--a new policy was in place to monitor and track all of its International students. A two-fold program, students are required to present themselves monthly at the library to prove they are 1. doing their programme, 2. not breaking any employment laws, 3. haven't moved their address. And also, monthly attend "all" the required department meetings, lectures, etc. Thus proving oneself on two counts (at least) monthly. It's not just Swansea of course, following new regs that C & I encountered while applying for our visas (it was rigorous), all international students in the UK will be facing such attendance monitoring. In fact all Muslim students were required to register with the police on arrival.
That is not unfamiliar. While at UC Davis, in the tidal wave of proclamations and realignments that followed the "state of emergency" declared on Sept 14, 2001--all the students from particular countries (read Muslim) were required to appear at the school's administration to register themselves.
I don't have to report to the police, but having to check in and prove myself innocent of any sort of misbehavior on a 2x monthly basis doesn't really make for a warm and welcomed feeling. But then this is a state of affairs I likely should have expected from the CCTV cameras that form a network across the whole of Britian. The UK, like the US, is a surveillance state.
And, apparently, the US is still in a condition of fighting off imminent invasion, because on Sept 10 Obama renewed that very order Bush began back on Sept. 14 2001--keeping the US under a "State of Emergency". (Did that make the news in the US? Not likely--go to Commondreams.org to read the article). Effectively that means that the president maintains the power to do a variety things without reference to votes or checks, including seizing property, declaring martial law, regulating travel, deploying troops, seizing transportation and communications, etc. Now, by law, congress is required to review such an order every 6 months. But it never did so from 2001 to 2009 ...
A colleague said to me once that surveillance didn't bother him because if you were innocent and had nothing to hide you were fine. Only those who were guilty would worry about surveillance. But what is guilt in a "free" society? Friends of mine in Pomona were held at gun-point in the middle of the night, had their home ransacked and computers taken because of a suspicion, never substantiated, that one of the house-members had set a lot of SUVs on fire. The FBI was never required to give proof. The young man was held in jail for over a year before finally being set free, innocent, but with his life damaged. Why were they targeted? Because they were different. I maintain its because they were deviants from the norm--vegans, peace-niks, environmentalists. They offered free classes to their neighbors on organic gardening, vegetarian cooking, and solar-panel installation.
On paper, in theory, only the guilty should have to worry about surveillance--but of course it all depends on what the state, and all the fallible individuals within it, decides to deem a "guilt-worthy" infraction. Violence? sure. Going to Anti-War meetings? ahhh.... Going to Animal Rights conferences? ummmm. Practicing a certain religion? hmmmm.
It's a fine line. Our fear allows us to bend our heads just a little, just enough. It lets the state gather up that much more power, to centralize infrastructure and information to make it just that much easier to take the next step. And how many steps are there between a free society, a surveillance society, a benevolent dictatorship, and a totalitarian state? It's all for our own good, after all. To protect us. To keep us safe. The way the German government protected its people by making sure that all the dangerous intellectuals, deviants, and followers of a certain religion were locked away. The way the U.S. kept its people safe by locking up all the descendants of a particular race in wartime as potential enemies--even the children.
To me it begs the question of just what exactly is being protected ... If you think that the people as voters have power, remember the political coup that reigned from 2001-2009 in the form of 2 terms of a NON-elected president. And it might be worthwhile to look back at history and remember that the US government was structured exactly the way it was (a system of 3 co-equal branches sharing and checking power) because the men who wrote the constitution and the bill of rights knew that government would always tend towards consolidation of power. Of course just because Obama has the power to declare martial law, seize your house, or re-channel the means of production to some purpose that he deems necessary doesn't mean he is going to do it. Because we are all protected by something greater than those potentialities ... one thing standing between us and a totalitarian state--the notion that Obama is a man of conscience ....
Yes, I feel much better, too.
That is not unfamiliar. While at UC Davis, in the tidal wave of proclamations and realignments that followed the "state of emergency" declared on Sept 14, 2001--all the students from particular countries (read Muslim) were required to appear at the school's administration to register themselves.
I don't have to report to the police, but having to check in and prove myself innocent of any sort of misbehavior on a 2x monthly basis doesn't really make for a warm and welcomed feeling. But then this is a state of affairs I likely should have expected from the CCTV cameras that form a network across the whole of Britian. The UK, like the US, is a surveillance state.
And, apparently, the US is still in a condition of fighting off imminent invasion, because on Sept 10 Obama renewed that very order Bush began back on Sept. 14 2001--keeping the US under a "State of Emergency". (Did that make the news in the US? Not likely--go to Commondreams.org to read the article). Effectively that means that the president maintains the power to do a variety things without reference to votes or checks, including seizing property, declaring martial law, regulating travel, deploying troops, seizing transportation and communications, etc. Now, by law, congress is required to review such an order every 6 months. But it never did so from 2001 to 2009 ...
A colleague said to me once that surveillance didn't bother him because if you were innocent and had nothing to hide you were fine. Only those who were guilty would worry about surveillance. But what is guilt in a "free" society? Friends of mine in Pomona were held at gun-point in the middle of the night, had their home ransacked and computers taken because of a suspicion, never substantiated, that one of the house-members had set a lot of SUVs on fire. The FBI was never required to give proof. The young man was held in jail for over a year before finally being set free, innocent, but with his life damaged. Why were they targeted? Because they were different. I maintain its because they were deviants from the norm--vegans, peace-niks, environmentalists. They offered free classes to their neighbors on organic gardening, vegetarian cooking, and solar-panel installation.
On paper, in theory, only the guilty should have to worry about surveillance--but of course it all depends on what the state, and all the fallible individuals within it, decides to deem a "guilt-worthy" infraction. Violence? sure. Going to Anti-War meetings? ahhh.... Going to Animal Rights conferences? ummmm. Practicing a certain religion? hmmmm.
It's a fine line. Our fear allows us to bend our heads just a little, just enough. It lets the state gather up that much more power, to centralize infrastructure and information to make it just that much easier to take the next step. And how many steps are there between a free society, a surveillance society, a benevolent dictatorship, and a totalitarian state? It's all for our own good, after all. To protect us. To keep us safe. The way the German government protected its people by making sure that all the dangerous intellectuals, deviants, and followers of a certain religion were locked away. The way the U.S. kept its people safe by locking up all the descendants of a particular race in wartime as potential enemies--even the children.
To me it begs the question of just what exactly is being protected ... If you think that the people as voters have power, remember the political coup that reigned from 2001-2009 in the form of 2 terms of a NON-elected president. And it might be worthwhile to look back at history and remember that the US government was structured exactly the way it was (a system of 3 co-equal branches sharing and checking power) because the men who wrote the constitution and the bill of rights knew that government would always tend towards consolidation of power. Of course just because Obama has the power to declare martial law, seize your house, or re-channel the means of production to some purpose that he deems necessary doesn't mean he is going to do it. Because we are all protected by something greater than those potentialities ... one thing standing between us and a totalitarian state--the notion that Obama is a man of conscience ....
Yes, I feel much better, too.
Friday 6 November 2009
Guy Fawkes Night
For the fellow Yanks who've seen "V for Vendetta" you will have a little idea of who Guy Fawkes is and what Guy Fawkes/Bonfire Night is ...
"Remember remember
the 5th of November
the gunpowder, treason, and plot
I can think of no reason
the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot."
Guy Fawkes was born April 13, 1570 in York--he converted to Catholicism at a time when there was repression and prejudice toward Catholics in Protestant England (in the year he converted Mary Clitherow (the Pearl of York) was executed by being crushed to death for harboring Catholic priests in her home). In 1605 he became involved in what came to be known as the Gunpowder Plot -- a plan to blow up the Houses of Parliament on the day of the State Opening when the King, most of the royal family, members of Parliament, and heads of state would be present. (Think of it as if someone blew up Congress on State of the Union night). If the plot had succeeded it would have effectively destroyed most of the power elite in one act. On November 5th Guy Fawkes was caught (someone had sent an anonymous warning note to the authorities) in the basement of parliament with 1800 pounds of gunpowder. He was taken to the Tower and tortured but only divulged the names of conspirators who were either already dead or had already been caught. On January 31 1606 he was taken to be executed.
On the night of Nov 5th Londoners were encouraged to celebrate the Kings escape by lighting bonfires throughout the city. And so every 5th November since 1605 (think of that oh young nation, 404 years of 5th Novembers) in England Guy Fawkes Night is celebrated with bonfires, fireworks, and the burning of the "Guy". A celebration of the survival of the state against a terrorist plot.
Of course in later years certain groups came to think of Guy Fawkes differently--Anarchists hailed him as, "The only man ever to enter the Houses of Parliament with honest intentions." And even as a villian he inspired a lot of poetry, including Milton's very famous Satan in Paradise Lost. He's recently made it to lists of the top 100 British people in history and even has some islands in the Galapagos named after him ....
So there's the background ....
So last night Christien and I wandered out into the streets, making our way down to the beach near the Cricket fields. Throngs swarming the roads, the parks, the beach all up and down the Bay. Bonfires large and small all along the sand, and people with firecrackers, sparklers. Explosions and whines. The smell of cordite and woodsmoke. Then the fireworks displays started all up and down the coast--from our perch on the dunes could see the pop of red, white, green, purple lights from the other side of the peninsula, out in Mumbles, down in Black Pill and around in Port Talbot. And then the display at the Cricket fields started to music that ranged from Carmena Barrana dramatic to soft pop to the theme from Doctor Who. College kids, teens, parents with little kids, elderly--all milling through the sand, with the waves coming in closer to the walls, lights and smoke, the smell of beer. I thought, "It's like the 4th of July but without the unpleasant associations (for me)." Shower of sparks in the sky like the bloom of fireflies into stars. No pushing or violence, a few beery songs, everyone bundled in the chill sea air.
Lovely. And so very not American, for all its familiarity.
And so then we wandered in our stateless state (strangers in a strange and yet familiar land) up to the Mozart pub where there was an open mic poetry reading and book launch (ah the poets in their goth and black, punk and skulls). One of the open mic readers read a poem called, "Guy Fawkes Night":
"How very British, to celebrate a failure ... Guy Fawkes failed to kill the king, failed to blow up parliament. Hurrah!"
And then the headliner was an expat American reading from his new book -- all about what america means to him as an expat, his love and hope for the country....So fresh from this place he called "America" we had a hard time matching the words to the place that we know, but all the same, perhaps America is as much a place as it is a state of mind?
State. State of Mind. Stranger and stranger. You can leave your country, but it might not leave you.
And Guy Fawkes the villianous Catholic terrorist becomes in 400 years a (if somewhat dubious) heroic martyr. Time. Geography. Fireworks. Shifts of state. And today the rain is softly falling, grey on grey, on all the sand and charcoal remnants of 5th November.
"Remember remember
the 5th of November
the gunpowder, treason, and plot
I can think of no reason
the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot."
Guy Fawkes was born April 13, 1570 in York--he converted to Catholicism at a time when there was repression and prejudice toward Catholics in Protestant England (in the year he converted Mary Clitherow (the Pearl of York) was executed by being crushed to death for harboring Catholic priests in her home). In 1605 he became involved in what came to be known as the Gunpowder Plot -- a plan to blow up the Houses of Parliament on the day of the State Opening when the King, most of the royal family, members of Parliament, and heads of state would be present. (Think of it as if someone blew up Congress on State of the Union night). If the plot had succeeded it would have effectively destroyed most of the power elite in one act. On November 5th Guy Fawkes was caught (someone had sent an anonymous warning note to the authorities) in the basement of parliament with 1800 pounds of gunpowder. He was taken to the Tower and tortured but only divulged the names of conspirators who were either already dead or had already been caught. On January 31 1606 he was taken to be executed.
On the night of Nov 5th Londoners were encouraged to celebrate the Kings escape by lighting bonfires throughout the city. And so every 5th November since 1605 (think of that oh young nation, 404 years of 5th Novembers) in England Guy Fawkes Night is celebrated with bonfires, fireworks, and the burning of the "Guy". A celebration of the survival of the state against a terrorist plot.
Of course in later years certain groups came to think of Guy Fawkes differently--Anarchists hailed him as, "The only man ever to enter the Houses of Parliament with honest intentions." And even as a villian he inspired a lot of poetry, including Milton's very famous Satan in Paradise Lost. He's recently made it to lists of the top 100 British people in history and even has some islands in the Galapagos named after him ....
So there's the background ....
So last night Christien and I wandered out into the streets, making our way down to the beach near the Cricket fields. Throngs swarming the roads, the parks, the beach all up and down the Bay. Bonfires large and small all along the sand, and people with firecrackers, sparklers. Explosions and whines. The smell of cordite and woodsmoke. Then the fireworks displays started all up and down the coast--from our perch on the dunes could see the pop of red, white, green, purple lights from the other side of the peninsula, out in Mumbles, down in Black Pill and around in Port Talbot. And then the display at the Cricket fields started to music that ranged from Carmena Barrana dramatic to soft pop to the theme from Doctor Who. College kids, teens, parents with little kids, elderly--all milling through the sand, with the waves coming in closer to the walls, lights and smoke, the smell of beer. I thought, "It's like the 4th of July but without the unpleasant associations (for me)." Shower of sparks in the sky like the bloom of fireflies into stars. No pushing or violence, a few beery songs, everyone bundled in the chill sea air.
Lovely. And so very not American, for all its familiarity.
And so then we wandered in our stateless state (strangers in a strange and yet familiar land) up to the Mozart pub where there was an open mic poetry reading and book launch (ah the poets in their goth and black, punk and skulls). One of the open mic readers read a poem called, "Guy Fawkes Night":
"How very British, to celebrate a failure ... Guy Fawkes failed to kill the king, failed to blow up parliament. Hurrah!"
And then the headliner was an expat American reading from his new book -- all about what america means to him as an expat, his love and hope for the country....So fresh from this place he called "America" we had a hard time matching the words to the place that we know, but all the same, perhaps America is as much a place as it is a state of mind?
State. State of Mind. Stranger and stranger. You can leave your country, but it might not leave you.
And Guy Fawkes the villianous Catholic terrorist becomes in 400 years a (if somewhat dubious) heroic martyr. Time. Geography. Fireworks. Shifts of state. And today the rain is softly falling, grey on grey, on all the sand and charcoal remnants of 5th November.
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