9/11: The Crash of Civilizations

As an educated, inquisitive American citizen, I was intrigued by the recent publication of the 9/11 Commission Report. With its modest price tag, narrative composition and national political relevance, I quickly purchased the roughly 400 page report. Little did I know that the typically solitary act of reading a book would incite so much discourse with random strangers.

To accomplish my goal of completing the report in a timely manner I've been lugging it around with me wherever I go. On a recent trip into work downtown I was stopped on the sidewalk by a Taxi Cab driver parked on the street. I knew our conversation was going to be interesting when he asked me if I knew of the first country to recognize America's independence. Years of public education had not prepared me for such an innocuous question; of course I answered that I had no idea. I was informed that the country in question was indeed Morocco, the country of birth for this enlightened Taxi Cab driver. Did he stop me merely to prove the worthlessness of a liberal arts degree, to highlight the astounding foresight of his nation of birth, or perhaps even to browbeat me into taking on a cab fare? If any of these were true I would not have even taken the time to write this little vignette. This friendly cabbie had a lot of questions for me, which it turned out were merely rhetorical devices for dropping some science on my ignorant American ass.

He continued: Morocco recognized America's independence because it was a country based on the ideas of freedom and liberty; 9/11 happened because of the eventual corruption of these founding values. More specifically, these ideals had been corrupted because unsavory elements had been allowed to creep into our government and have a frightening amount of influence over its foreign policy. Now things were getting interesting. So who represented this devious faction? I was soon informed that it all hearkened back to WWII when THE JEWS wouldn't stop complaining about the holocaust. Next thing you know they're dictating foreign policy in regards to Israel and Palestine, perverting the high-minded ideals of America and causing ardent jihadists to crash jumbo jets into skyscrapers just to prove a point.

Before I could get a chance to question his evidence based on his seeming anti-semiticism, he quickly interjected that he was the quintessential internationalist (he spoke five languages), and loved America and its ideals (that whole freedom and liberty thing). He also noted that he didn't believe all Jews were in the wrong, because there were three type of Jews: the dark-skinned people who currently lived in Ethiopia, another type that wanted peace in Israel/Palestine and finally the Zionists who basically want to control all of Israel/Palestine and will accomplish this goal by any means (specifically dictating America's foreign policy, controlling the media, etc.)

Obviously I wasn't completely sold on his theory based on this evidence, but there really wasn't any point in me making any objections, I was the one being schooled. After a few more friendly interchanges, I thanked him for the history lesson and went on my merry way to work.

If you read the 9/11 commission report, are stopped by a bombastic transplanted Moroccan or happen to understand Arabic and watch al-Jazeera you'll know that many people in the Muslim world have a large chip on their shoulder concerning Jews and Palestine. Although his ideas on the hidden hand of Jewish influence in American policy is a bit laughable, the cab driver was decidedly correct in correlating the events of 9/11 to Israel and its continued support by the U.S. The current issue of how to create a more effective intelligence structure, though important, seems to ignore the deeper issue of the daily clash of cultures currently experienced by large portions of the Muslim and Western worlds.

My Life as a Dogma

"As a white man, you can live your whole life never not fitting in. You never walk into a jewelry store that sees only your black skin. You never walk into a bar that sees only your boobs. To be Whitie is to be wallpaper."

Featured in Black Book Magazine and recently republished in his collection of non-fiction "Stranger Than Fiction", the essay My Life as a Dog was meant as a document of Chuck Palahniuk's foray into public inconspicuousness. The hate, anger, disbelief and generally uncourteous manner in which the citizens of the city of Seattle displayed towards the aforementioned writer and his female companion is surprising, if not shocking, when juxtaposed with the traditionally friendly character of the city we all know and love.

Of course, they were dressed in animal costumes; specifically, him a Dalmation, her a dancing bear.

Their modus operandi: to go about Seattle in animal costumes performing the excruciating work of modern tourists. They browsed the Pike Place Market, shopped the department stores and attempted to view the works found at the Seattle Art Museum. In the process this intrepid couple experienced physical blows to their beastly persons, thrown stones and blistering verbal indictments of their seemingly deviant behavior.

People spend their whole lives trying to fit in, wearing the fashionable clothes, speaking the hippest slang, visiting the trendiest night spots, and along comes two fuzzy creatures trying to go about their business whilst pissing in the face of one of the core tenants of civilization, assimilation. Most people in Seattle tend to masturbate to idea of their own openness, but fear of the unknown and the dangers that come along with it tend to push even the most ardent progressive over the edge.

This strikes at the heart of one of two points I'd like to make.

1. Ideals, belief systems, philosophies are only as good as the people that follow them. If you do something ridiculously ostentatious and abnormal, people are either going to laud you or beat you, regardless where on earth you live. When someone steps outside the norms of society and no longer becomes wallpaper, they are either uplifting others and making them feel good about themselves, or they are spitting in someone's face and pointing out their weaknesses. In Chuck Palahniuk's experiment, the author seems to have inspired the latter.




2. If this experiment had occurred just a short distance to the East in Capitol Hill people would have been propositioning Palahniuk and his companion for sex instead of harassing them. In his essay the author also mentions that a woman he knew that used to work as a clown used to get propositioned quite frequently. This he credits to men considering woman that don't attempt to look beautiful as being loose, or whores; but I digress..

If you appreciate the more amusing aspects of Chuck Palahniuk's white boy exhibition, check out the website for The Cacophony Society. They've managed to create a whole organization whose sole purpose is to do exactly not what immigrants to this country have been doing for centuries.

Love, War and Roommates: Welcome to My Home

As was stated previously, I have two roommates, one is the slovenly, Republican-oriented gent who I'll hence forth refer to as "Bright Eyes"; the other soul is the eco-friendly, Democrat-leaning, proto-Seattlite who will from now on be known as "Oswald".

Both of these guys are currently dating girls, Bright Eyes has been dating the same girl for years now and Oswald just recently starting seeing someone for the first time in years. For some reason unknown to me, Bright Eyes has it out for Oswald's new lady friend. He wants to destroy her, well maybe not destroy her, but little by little he has made concerted efforts to undermine her, and Oswald's relationship with her. Though he will swear up and down that he likes her as a person, he has made it very clear to me that he is not happy with her actions and certain aspects of her personality.

Granted he has made some valid points when talking shit about her:

1. She tends to leave her clothes, shoes and other belongings strewn about the house as if it were her own domicile.
2. Oswald's girly tends to dictate his time in such a way that we either don't ever see him, or if we do she is always present. Which leads into point 3..
3. She spends the night at our house every night.
4. There have been times when the three of us have been hanging out, after we come back home, she has been waiting in the house prior to our arrival, and unbeknownst to myself or Bright Eyes.

I'm not going to lie, these are valid arguments for being upset with her, but she's been nothing but nice to the both of us. I chalk up most of these things as ignorance on her part as to what is acceptable behavior.

But ole Bright Eyes isn't so understanding. He'll accuse Oswald's girlfriend of stealing things, call her friends sluts to her face and basically insult any interest, activity and personality trait of hers in his general assault. He also has attempted to draw me into the fray by seeking my support in having a "sit down" with our buddy Oswald, which so far has yet to materialize (in large part to him never being alone). Being as crass as this to Oswald's lady isn't anything new to Bright Eyes, as you'll learn through future posts, he's the type of guy who doesn't hesitate to do anything for his friends as well as say fucked up personal insults about them in the presence of others. That's just how he rolls.

Nation of Immigrants Employs Nation of Immigrants

The Seattle Times today ran a story about a widespread fear among Seattle's immigrant community of a rumored crackdown by the Department of Homeland Security resulting in an increased deportation of illegal residents. It's interesting that since September 11th, the enforcement of laws on illegal immigration has been taken under the helm of an agency concerned with protecting our nation from malicious attacks. 

A benign threat to national security at best, the majority of illegal immigrants are here in America working in poorly paid jobs so that Americans can get their goods and services cheaply. I happen to work in an industry that employs a large majority of foreign born workers. They do their jobs, they work hard, and if they're capable enough they have the opportunity of advancing into positions of authority and responsibility not readily accessible to immigrants in other lines of work. Though the company I work for follows all applicable laws in employing only people who legally have the right to work in the U.S., anytime a vote comes up for unionization, it fails miserably largely in part to foreign born workers in the company. Now if they are all legally employed by this company why would they disproportionately vote down a proposal that would give them unprecedented guarantees of job security and benefits?

There is no smoking gun to answer that question, but it does seem to imply that the people who often do the least desirable, most dangerous and worst paid jobs are somewhat concerned with their employer calling in Federal officials to do their union busting for them. [Unions in most industries are seen as being a Black Death for business, I know from a good source that the company I work for regularly has meetings with management on ways to prevent unionization, and these meetings definitely don't consist of brainstorming sessions on how to create better benefit plans or increase worker job satisfaction.]

Thus is the persistent quandary among industrial nations: What do we hate more, foreigners or high prices? Seattle tends to lean toward the latter, but with the Department of Homeland Security keeping our city safe from terrorism as well as immigrants, area residents may have little choice in the matter.

Hot Time in the City

  
Look at that sky, talk about blue. See that sun there? It's 12am and it feels as if it that big shiny thing is still mad-dogging me from the sky. It's currently 80 degrees Fahrenheit in Rain City, so you might think about checking on that old person you have stuffed in your closet because he or she might not make it through the night. Tomorrow is projected to be roughly 94 degrees, just hot enough to throw Capitol Hill's Annual Block Party. Throw together two days of 50 live local bands, loads of cheap beer, droves of Seattle's hipster and homosexual elite along with some record breaking heat and you've got yourself a ye olde goode time. Unfortunately I will be unable to attend due to a significant lack of interest by a second party, but thankfully instead will be dodging heatstroke at a gathering of "friends". Alcohol will be involved, carnage will ensue, no animals will be harmed (but a few may be consumed). Stay tuned for further details.

Welcome to My World

I know what you're thinking, your pseudonym is Bare Witness, you must be some type of internet capable public nudity enthusiast. No. Like most sane people, I am afraid of my naked body and the dark esoteric places scattered about my person. This weblog is just a convenient way of detailing aspects of my life or thoughts in an unfiltered form without the hindrance of cupability, hence the Bare Witness, silly.

Let's start with the basics without giving too much away:

• I live in the city of Seattle, King County, Washington State, U.S.A. Seattle is a very interesting place to live. Not only did it elect one of the most left-leaning congressmen to the House of Representatives, but it is home (by way of Medina) to the richest geek in the world. Boeing and Microsoft are huge employers in the area, and hold a lot of political and financial weight in the city. Seattlites consider themselves quite a progressive and tolerant folk; the Capitol Hill neighborhood is the closest thing you are going to find to a Gay Mecca outside of San Francisco. The majority of people living here are college graduates (it's not uncommon to see phD's unemployed due to the glut of overeducated people) and according to a recent study Seattlites read the most books per capita than any other city. Everyone drinks cappacinos (there is at least one Starbucks, Seattle's Best or Tully's on every block downtown) and owns a dog. It's just weird like that.
• I live with two male roomates in their early twenties (like myself). One is a forgetful, inconsiderate slob that everyone thinks is the nicest guy in the world, he'd vote Republican if he had registered to vote, or knew that he had to register to vote. The other IS actually the nicest guy in the world, and as such gets trampled on by the first roommate, he always votes Democratic, is a public transit enthusiast, and is the quintessential Seattlite except that he is allergic to coffee; poor guy.
• Then there is me. I moved to the city to attend college here and decided stay, seeing as how my place of birth seems to promote alcoholism, tribal casinos, obesity and mental absenteeism over education, healthy living and the potential for a better tomorrow. I work in a place where I rub elbows with people a whole lot better looking and rich than I am and who I am constantly disgusted by, but the pay is decent enough to enable me to temporarily fulfill my fantasy of living the jet set lifestyle.

For the most part that's the backdrop for this tale of the city, stay tuned for further developments as I struggle with unthoughtful roommates, wacko liberals, high maintainence yuppies and the occassional hipster neighbor or cumbersome high school buddy. Today is the first day of the rest of my life, or better yet, the first day of this weBLOG. Stay with us, we'll talk, and maybe we just might become friends or hetero lifemates.

The sun is shining in beautiful Seattle, enjoy.