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Camp Redemption? | May 20, 2004 13:19
Aww for fuck's sake! Come on! You have got to be joking? Camp fucking Redemption!
Yes folks, the US is renaming Abu Ghraib following the prisoner abuse scandal. If I start reading that name being used seriously in the press I am going to be physically sick.
But it seems at least half of the prisoners kept there for so long without any access to legal processes were innocents. Rightists, staunch defenders of democracy and individual rights that they are, like to characterise any detainees as terrorists or insurgents, but it is pretty clear many are just taxi drivers or their passengers or other innocent types who get swept up indiscriminately after some incident and then incarcerated for months in understaffed prisons because Donald Rumsfeld still won't admit he cocked up and didn't supply enough troops for the occupation.
They are now planning on releasing around 2,300 of these terrorist taxi drivers back onto the streets.
Speaking of incompetence, apparently George Bush was personally appraised of the Red Cross reports raising concerns over prisoner treatment – according to Colin Powell. Further, the man who railed against constraints against swift engagement of potential enemy targets himself turned down three opportunities to kill the man who cut off Nick Berg's head.
Why? Because to do so might weaken the case for the invasion of Iraq. Another example of where he appears to have put US security interests second to his desire to invade.
The story gets worse in its details. As far back as June 2002, U.S. intelligence reported that Zarqawi had set up a weapons lab at Kirma in northern Iraq that was capable of producing ricin and cyanide. The Pentagon drew up an attack plan involving cruise missiles and smart bombs. The White House turned it down. In October 2002, intelligence reported that Zarqawi was preparing to use his bio-weapons in Europe. The Pentagon drew up another attack plan. The White House again demurred. In January 2003, police in London arrested terrorist suspects connected to the camp. The Pentagon devised another attack plan. Again, the White House killed the plan, not Zarqawi.
I was having a chat with an Egyptian Christian the other day, fascinating chap on several fronts, but he very pointedly described Iraq as greater Iran. He was referring to the fact that rather than hemming in terrorism and fundamentalism (two different things for the benefit of those who like to blur all sorts of lines), it had created a whole new lawless zone. Terrorism heaven and you don't even have to get martyred.
The US is releasing quite a number of people they once described as "hard-core terrorists" from Guantanamo. And, inevitably, we are hearing stories of what went on inside.
The latest involves the beating of Australian David Hicks. John Howard (Do you remember before 9/11 when no one could name the Australian PM?) has tried to discredit these claims, which didn't come from Hicks himself but from a fellow detainee. Why hadn't Hicks raised these complaints earlier, he asks?
Well, he has been held incommunicado, John. His lawyer has been gagged about conversations he has with his client. On the other occasions, Red Cross visits and the like, who can really say what the circumstances were? Guantanamo isn't exactly transparent.
There are rumours the other Australian terrorist, Mamdouh Habib, who was kidnapped in Pakistan, may be released to terrorise the streets of Sydney once more.
His is an interesting case of making the rules up as you go along. The kind of thing that destroys any chance of a fair trial.
Mamdouh Habib's arrest, unlike that of David Hicks, is the story of a man travelling in a country not at war, and without warning being arrested, transferred, and treated as an illegal combatant, despite the fact that he was never any kind of combatant.
After being arrested on a bus heading to Karachi in Pakistan, where he was booked to return to Australia, his two Germen companions were released within weeks, due to strong diplomatic pressure from their government. Habib however, was unlucky, because the Australian authorities left him stranded, and refused to demand a fair trial, access to a lawyer, or to extradite him to Australia. What is worse is that after 14 months in prison, the Australian government has still not demanded these things, and he sits in Guantanamo Bay, his fourth country of incarceration, still without being charged, or convicted.
Because he was arrested in Pakistan, transferred to Egypt, and only ever spent time in Afghanistan as a US prisoner when transferred from Egypt, he has no claim to the Geneva Convention. Likewise, having never fought or carried arms, he cannot possibly be treated as an illegal combatant.
He should have some interesting stories.
Of course while all this Abu Ghraib stuff is going on the US Supreme Court is considering matters of jurisdiction over Guantanamo. I wonder what impact these endless examples of lack of process, mismanagement and lack of accountability will have on its deliberations?
By the way, some email from the site has been blocked by my work's spam filter so apologies to those who think I'm ignoring them. I'm changing the address to point to my hotmail account.
Coming soon: Being Gordon King
Being the Girlie | May 14, 2004 11:37
I've been a bit disillusioned with magazines recently. I can go into a newsagency and ferret around for a quarter of an hour and still come out empty-handed, which is strange as I used to love them. Is it them or is it me?
I'm occasionally tempted by a Vanity Fair, but never buy Loaded or FHM or any of that lad stuff any more. I don't think it's me. I think there is another type of magazine out there waiting to be invented, like Loaded in the 1980s, that will speak to us in some new way and engage us again.
The current crop just doesn't cut it for me.
Anyway, I was doing a sweep of the stands the other day, on business mainly looking for the latest BusinessWeek, as it was proclaiming "E-biz Strikes Back". I need to read that sort of stuff. Anyway, to my great surprise I came out with three magazines, the BusinessWeek, a copy of Time and a Wired, which I've never bought before.
I bought Time because it had a cover story on the teenage brain and how it works – or, more accurately, doesn't work. Wired I've avoided over the years. While a brilliant mag in it's early incarnation I couldn't stand its salvationary tone and later it wasn't brilliant any more. I bought this one because Peter Jackson was on the cover and that was enough to make me want to dip in – not that I particularly want to read yet another story about PJ.
Anyway, back to the alleged teenage brain.
The article explained why the Girlie spends so much time in bed. It isn't because she's a lazy little sod at all, it's because the teen brain secretes melatonin later at night. They stay up late and wake up late. There is also a theory teens require a lot of sleep to to enhance learning! This from PBS in the US:
Other experiments supplied more direct evidence that sleep is crucial for learning. Human subjects were trained to identify letters that appeared for a blink of an eye on a computer screen. Then, half of the subjects were sent home to sleep, while the other half were deprived of sleep for the entire night, and only then went home to rest. Two days later when all the subjects were already rested and refreshed, the scientists checked their ability to read the flashing letters. None of the participants were tired, and yet the people who went to sleep right after the training performed much better than the ones who went to sleep a day later. This suggests that the night sleep immediately after the activity was crucial for gaining the most from the training session. Without it, the training was much less effective.
Some reckon teens need 9 hours of sleep a night, and not the 7 and a half they now average. Needless to say this was a revelation to me as the Girlie regularly throws in fourteen or fifteen hour stretches in the sack.
She must be a genius!
Also teens don't have the control mechanisms of adults. This is because the back of the brain matures first and the control centers last. These can still be maturing up to the age of 25 according to some scientists. Looking at most of my mates, they may want to stretch that one out to 45.
Anyway the article was fascinating and the conclusions explain a lot of stuff any parent knows intuitively. I'm looking forward to more research that will reveal the biological roots of needing to be surrounded by piles of dirty clothes and dishes that never find their way back to the kitchen. Perhaps there is a part of the brain or a hormone that controls this behaviour as well.
Anyway I've scored some tickets to the Bledisloe in August so the Girlie is happiness filled.
Last Saturday was spent down the Rose, a great little pub in Cleveland St between Glebe and Newtown, watching the Tahs bow out of the Super 12 in the traditional manner - losing to Queensland. there were a lot of kiwis about supporting the Queenslanders to keep the Blues up in the top four. In fact these included some Cantabrians, but I won't mention any names in case they want to go home some day.
Coming soon: Being Gordon King.
Martinis at the RSL | May 03, 2004 14:35
A few days ago the Girlie called me a retard. It was early in the morning and I was feeling a bit tired and emotional having only gotten in at 4am. Despite that I couldn't resist having my morning sport.
"Why aren't you at school?" I barked, knowing full well the answer.
"We have a late start, you retard!" she shouted back.
The Girlie isn't a morning person.
This morning was pretty much the same. I get up bright and cheerful:
"Good morning little girl!" I exclaim.
"Don't talk to me!" Her Girlieship shouts back just before she heads out the door. Even better she can't find her keys and has to limply back down and ask me to shut the door after her.
Bliss. Desired outcomes achieved. Girlie stirred and shaken.
Speaking of stirred and shaken, I was down the RSL the other day with my mate Dan, the self-styled Hebrew Hammer, and the other veterans… Actually I was down there with a bunch of trendies, lesbians, gays and nightclub types. There was one old digger hanging tough in the corner looking highly pissed off.
The Newtown RSL, went belly up a couple of years back and private enterprise came to the rescue, turning it into a way cool club with DJs on two levels and cocktails on the top floor – though I guess it can't be that cool if they let me in. I ordered a martini just so I could use that headline. It was damn good too, despite a bit of lemon rhind substituting for the olive.
The Hebrew Hammer was in a fragile state of mind, having to wrestle with his own Evil Santa. The single life certainly has compensations.
I was reading the other day that in NY they are serving 100 vodka martinis for every classic gin martini these days. The world really is going to hell in a hand-basket.
Vodka is bloody everywhere. I've accumulated a couple of bottles at home, one good and one semi-good. So in a fit of creativity on Sunday I decided to try and knock up an infusion. One bottle of vodka plus half a rock melon and…. I'll keep you posted.
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