Apparently, Hilary Clinton was quite the letter-writer during her college years.
It may be a bit unfair to peg an enigmatic candidate's personality by reference to letters written during their college years. Clearly, people change as they grow older... and I would hope that my middle-aged self will have grown enormously from my college years.
Still, there is something revealing in the way Hilary talks about people. She asks:
"Can you be a misanthrope and still love or enjoy some individuals?” Ms. Rodham wrote in an April 1967 letter. “How about a compassionate misanthrope?”
This resonates deeply with how I see the current Senator Clinton, particularly in comparison to her husand: as a masked misanthrope. A very capable, intelligent (maybe brilliant), driven, even diplomatic and politically astute misanthrope... but a misanthrope.
She's never convinced me that she really likes or loves the people who she serves as an elected representative. Bill Clinton's gregariousness was effortless, he was the epitome of an extrovert, someone who gained enormous energy and enjoyment from being around people. Rich or poor, black or white, Southern or Eastern, Bill Clinton seemed to just love interacting with people, it was apparent from his grin, handshake, and concerned eye contact.
Hilary has always seemed like she enjoys interacting with some people (such as her quips with a Texas Congressman during health care hearings, as shown in Michael Moore's Sicko).
And she's not out of place when glad-handing at a rally, or working a room at a fundraiser. Clearly, she has very refined social/interpersonal skills.
But she's lacking a certain love of humanity, an enjoyment of people in a very basic, raw, way.
To be fair, Obama isn't a model extrovert himself, as he's a little too serious to be truly enjoying social encounters. He does seem to be very concerned when interacting with others... he demonstrates a very deep and sincere care for what they have say, and seems to want to communicate a desire to use government to address their problems. His interactions have a parental/political-guidance counselor-feel.
Ultimately, I don't want a misanthrope at the helm of our democracy. I'd rather have a caring guidance counselor to lead us out of this mess.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Slow Sickly Saturday
It was a slow, sickly humid day in New York, so I spent it inside oversleeping and watching Miami Vice: a basically mediocre movie.
I spent the evening studying at the Whole Foods on Houston Street and then stopped by a rooftop party on Avenue B, which was teeming with liberal arts college students and recent graduates.
Upon arriving home, my roommate (L) and I began hearing intermittent smashing noises around our apartment.
L went up to the roof to investigate, and discovered a group of 10-15 young, male, hipster-ish lads throwing party objects off the sides of the building.
He chided them briefly before being told that someone had already given them a scolding.
Satisfied, L came back to our apartment, where he conveyed the story, noting that he should have stayed up on the roof and hung out with the offendors.
I don't there's any moral to this story. Maybe: Don't throw stuff off your roof... and... spend sickly humid weekends indoors.
I spent the evening studying at the Whole Foods on Houston Street and then stopped by a rooftop party on Avenue B, which was teeming with liberal arts college students and recent graduates.
Upon arriving home, my roommate (L) and I began hearing intermittent smashing noises around our apartment.
L went up to the roof to investigate, and discovered a group of 10-15 young, male, hipster-ish lads throwing party objects off the sides of the building.
He chided them briefly before being told that someone had already given them a scolding.
Satisfied, L came back to our apartment, where he conveyed the story, noting that he should have stayed up on the roof and hung out with the offendors.
I don't there's any moral to this story. Maybe: Don't throw stuff off your roof... and... spend sickly humid weekends indoors.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
A Startling Map
In slightly over four weeks, I will be in Dubai, United Arab Emirates.
I found this idealized map while looking for tourist guides.
The city looks quite wonderful. Apparently, building "out" into the water is quite common both in the Middle East and in Asia.
The perfect zoning of areas by function is also quite remarkable.
I found this idealized map while looking for tourist guides.
The city looks quite wonderful. Apparently, building "out" into the water is quite common both in the Middle East and in Asia.
The perfect zoning of areas by function is also quite remarkable.
The Importance of Being Extroverted
I met an old college friend today for lunch at the new whole foods on Houston street. Besides being impressed by the innovative supermarket-cafe design of the building, my friend (AR) told me a remarkable story that is quite instructive.
AR is rising college senior at Wesleyan, and was spending the summer living in New York and doing a crappy part-time internship at the Onion. A few weeks into the internship, it was clear that his summer was going nowhere fast, at least professionally.
While in a coffee shop, AR overheard a man explaining his new technology start-up to a friend. After listening, he politely interjected with interest, and got into a conversation with the entrepreneur/owner.
The conversation led to an invitation for drinks with the owner's partner, and they offered AR a trial part-time job (well paid for college student). It clicked, and he's now working a full-time (albeit with flexible hours), and has abandoned the Onion.
As I've always argued, if you are observant/attentive and take verbal risks with strangers, the potential gain is enormous.
AR is rising college senior at Wesleyan, and was spending the summer living in New York and doing a crappy part-time internship at the Onion. A few weeks into the internship, it was clear that his summer was going nowhere fast, at least professionally.
While in a coffee shop, AR overheard a man explaining his new technology start-up to a friend. After listening, he politely interjected with interest, and got into a conversation with the entrepreneur/owner.
The conversation led to an invitation for drinks with the owner's partner, and they offered AR a trial part-time job (well paid for college student). It clicked, and he's now working a full-time (albeit with flexible hours), and has abandoned the Onion.
As I've always argued, if you are observant/attentive and take verbal risks with strangers, the potential gain is enormous.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tisha B'av
Today was Tisha B'av, the 9th Day of the Jewish month of Av. The day commemorates the destruction of the second temple in Jerusalem, and the end of the temple period for the Jewish people.
It is customary for observant jews to fast on Tisha B'av, from the evening of the day before to the sundown of the day.
While I'm not a particularly observant Jew, I find fasts compelling, and have always gained a certain satisfaction from fasting in the middle of summer. So, I snuck out of LSAT class early last night, ate a large sandwich and soup from Cosi, and came home to begin my fast. This was in contrast to my ordinary late Monday night workout and midnight meal.
Instead, I came home early and lay in bed, reading the newest harry potter book, which is arguably appropriate as it contains a great deal of loss, trauma, and suffering... so far, not much else after 500+ pages.
I slept in this morning later than I had in 4-5 months, which was confusing and nice. I do feel that i've lost this ability to sleep for long periods, to let go for almost half the hours in a day.
I spent the rest of the day working and running errands, before attending a workshop for New York Cares, an organization through which I plan to volunteer in New York City. The workshop focused possible ways to volunteers in New York, and was required by one of the organizations which which I plan to work.
Throughout the day, I had a hard time focusing on sorrow and grief, though the lack of food and caffeine certainly had an effect.
As an old teacher of mine once said: it is very difficult to force yourself to feel a certain way as part of religious observance.
Yet, the day did feel separated and reflective.
It is customary for observant jews to fast on Tisha B'av, from the evening of the day before to the sundown of the day.
While I'm not a particularly observant Jew, I find fasts compelling, and have always gained a certain satisfaction from fasting in the middle of summer. So, I snuck out of LSAT class early last night, ate a large sandwich and soup from Cosi, and came home to begin my fast. This was in contrast to my ordinary late Monday night workout and midnight meal.
Instead, I came home early and lay in bed, reading the newest harry potter book, which is arguably appropriate as it contains a great deal of loss, trauma, and suffering... so far, not much else after 500+ pages.
I slept in this morning later than I had in 4-5 months, which was confusing and nice. I do feel that i've lost this ability to sleep for long periods, to let go for almost half the hours in a day.
I spent the rest of the day working and running errands, before attending a workshop for New York Cares, an organization through which I plan to volunteer in New York City. The workshop focused possible ways to volunteers in New York, and was required by one of the organizations which which I plan to work.
Throughout the day, I had a hard time focusing on sorrow and grief, though the lack of food and caffeine certainly had an effect.
As an old teacher of mine once said: it is very difficult to force yourself to feel a certain way as part of religious observance.
Yet, the day did feel separated and reflective.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Google's Big Move
Google Wants to Change the way that we use our cell phones. The company's proposal would push cell phone usage towards the TV model: you would have a device (phone) on which you can use any service, and then you shop around for services.
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/21/technology/21google.html?pagewanted=2&_r=1&th&emc=th
It does seem like a few very powerful cell phone companies have an enormous amount of market power, consumers suffering
Prices are high, and choice is low. From what I can tell, this is a market that is in badly need of opening towards more competition.
ATT and Verizon seem very scared from the ferociousness of their attacks on the proposal.
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/21/technology/21google.html?pagewanted=2&_r=1&th&emc=th
It does seem like a few very powerful cell phone companies have an enormous amount of market power, consumers suffering
Prices are high, and choice is low. From what I can tell, this is a market that is in badly need of opening towards more competition.
ATT and Verizon seem very scared from the ferociousness of their attacks on the proposal.
A Tight Community
With N (an Israeli from the American South), I took a walk in Central Park and learned of a remarkable Upper West Side phenomena.
On the Northwest corner of the Great Lawn, there is a buzzing mass of young, affluent, Modern Orthodox Jews.
It was a scene. Lots of white and black, kippot (ritual head-coverings for Men), long skirts, button-downs, groups of people, a frothing mass of the social and observant.
I find the density of social capital in this crowd to be immense: I bumped into two people I knew from my old days at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires, and N bumped into more than 10, without trying. These folks knew each other, directly or otherwise.
A remarkable contrast compared to the frothing chaos of the East Village.
As we walked away from the crowd, I recognized a dark, tall, sunglassed and straw-hatted man in white linen and who had been walking on 10th street (near my apartment) an hour earlier.
It turns out that he's Spanish, and named Fermi (like the physicist). He lives in Barcelona, and was visiting his son (James), who just opened a restaurant called Mercat that serves Catalanian (sp?) food. He was amused that I recognized him, and I was happy to see a "familiar" face from the East Village.
I am envious of the Modox crowd, and their tight interconnection. They have something that a lot us don't: a large and comfortable social safety net.
But, I have my new Spanish friend from the East Village.
On the Northwest corner of the Great Lawn, there is a buzzing mass of young, affluent, Modern Orthodox Jews.
It was a scene. Lots of white and black, kippot (ritual head-coverings for Men), long skirts, button-downs, groups of people, a frothing mass of the social and observant.
I find the density of social capital in this crowd to be immense: I bumped into two people I knew from my old days at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires, and N bumped into more than 10, without trying. These folks knew each other, directly or otherwise.
A remarkable contrast compared to the frothing chaos of the East Village.
As we walked away from the crowd, I recognized a dark, tall, sunglassed and straw-hatted man in white linen and who had been walking on 10th street (near my apartment) an hour earlier.
It turns out that he's Spanish, and named Fermi (like the physicist). He lives in Barcelona, and was visiting his son (James), who just opened a restaurant called Mercat that serves Catalanian (sp?) food. He was amused that I recognized him, and I was happy to see a "familiar" face from the East Village.
I am envious of the Modox crowd, and their tight interconnection. They have something that a lot us don't: a large and comfortable social safety net.
But, I have my new Spanish friend from the East Village.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Old Friends
A number of my friends mixed tonight, with alcohol as the lubricant, and oddly cold weather as the charm.
It was a cool evening for July, and I saw myself beginning to age, with the layers emerging... like backing away from a cliff and starting to discover different colors of sediment stacked upon each other.
Freud said that our minds (particularly the unconscious, I think) were like archaeological digs: cities built upon cities, built upon previously existing settlements.
I hope for many more layers. It will be remarkable to see my friends age, particularly if the layers mix.
It was a cool evening for July, and I saw myself beginning to age, with the layers emerging... like backing away from a cliff and starting to discover different colors of sediment stacked upon each other.
Freud said that our minds (particularly the unconscious, I think) were like archaeological digs: cities built upon cities, built upon previously existing settlements.
I hope for many more layers. It will be remarkable to see my friends age, particularly if the layers mix.
Friday, July 20, 2007
The Return: Diplomacy on 55th
In honor of Restaurant Week and the arrival of family friends from Germany, eight of us dined at the Aquavit Cafe.
Aquavit is arguably the best Swedish Restaurant on this Island, and it didn't disappoint.
Eating Swedish food with Europeans, I am reminded of my months in Stockholm. Healthy, succinct, and carefully presented dishes, particular conversations with a high degree of specificity, and the careful mixing of cultures and values. Cautious elegance. No cold this time, and we're on my former turf: East Midtown.
The lounge at Aquavit is really nice, with comfortable minimalist leather chairs, perfect lighting, and a roominess that projects a sense of calm confidence.
This restaurant plays its game well, but carefully. The hostess infers my reservation from the number of people I cite and then apologizes for mispronouncing my last name.
We are seated at a long table on the side of the cafe, opposite the door. Since we are on the early side and I sit against the wall, I watch the other couples invade the cafe in well-dressed pairs. It is an affluent and cautious bunch, one man wearing elegant leather suspenders under his silk jacket. I do notice a number of older couples.
Dinner consists of avocado soup, Hannah Arendt, sliced hangar steak, Angela Merkel and Joshcka Fisher, Carlsberg (Elephant Carlsberg, on my insistence), and peanut butter cake. The service is near exquisite: at one point, we have the cafe's entire wait staff (5 plus the Maitre D) serving us.
Also on the table throughout dinner: various types of Aquavit and the Vietnam War.
The food is less engaging than the conversation... I enjoy the Cappuccino most, perhaps because I am the only one drinking coffee, and thus not speaking.
Afterwards, we walk down to 23rd street where the Germans and my parents depart for Brooklyn.
I walk to Trader Joes to buy groceries.
Aquavit is arguably the best Swedish Restaurant on this Island, and it didn't disappoint.
Eating Swedish food with Europeans, I am reminded of my months in Stockholm. Healthy, succinct, and carefully presented dishes, particular conversations with a high degree of specificity, and the careful mixing of cultures and values. Cautious elegance. No cold this time, and we're on my former turf: East Midtown.
The lounge at Aquavit is really nice, with comfortable minimalist leather chairs, perfect lighting, and a roominess that projects a sense of calm confidence.
This restaurant plays its game well, but carefully. The hostess infers my reservation from the number of people I cite and then apologizes for mispronouncing my last name.
We are seated at a long table on the side of the cafe, opposite the door. Since we are on the early side and I sit against the wall, I watch the other couples invade the cafe in well-dressed pairs. It is an affluent and cautious bunch, one man wearing elegant leather suspenders under his silk jacket. I do notice a number of older couples.
Dinner consists of avocado soup, Hannah Arendt, sliced hangar steak, Angela Merkel and Joshcka Fisher, Carlsberg (Elephant Carlsberg, on my insistence), and peanut butter cake. The service is near exquisite: at one point, we have the cafe's entire wait staff (5 plus the Maitre D) serving us.
Also on the table throughout dinner: various types of Aquavit and the Vietnam War.
The food is less engaging than the conversation... I enjoy the Cappuccino most, perhaps because I am the only one drinking coffee, and thus not speaking.
Afterwards, we walk down to 23rd street where the Germans and my parents depart for Brooklyn.
I walk to Trader Joes to buy groceries.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Playin' Ball
Revelation #1 about out Hero: I save everything.
Looking through old issues of the NYtimes (which only get filed once I read them) I found an article that suggests that one's personality can be ascertained by the way that one plays basketball.
Thus, according to Obama's brother-in-law, (the couch of Brown University's Men's team) Obama will be a good president. Not a ball hog, good at admitting mistakes, and with nothing to prove.
I think the NYtimes just gave the Obama Campaign an idea for a fundraiser. $100 hoops with Barack.
You get a 30 seconds in an hour long pick-up game, and Obama's team assignment is random, but the commercial-friendly participants get put on his team (so the opposing team is a bunch of rich white guys who (thank heavens) left the Republican party over the Iraq war, out-of-control fiscal spending, the Patriot Act, or the Terry Schiavo incident.
120 (30 sec. spots) x 9 (players) x $100 = $108,000 of fundraising if he plays continuously for an hour. And it saves him the hour of senate gym time that he talks about in the Audacity of Hope.
The Clintons would prefer a market-based incentivized strategy- an auction: the person who could bundle the most $2,300 checks gets to have an argument with Hilary about any subject of their choice for an hour.
I wonder which campaign would raise more.
I think the more interesting insight of the article is the sport that the candidate picks, in that it speaks to their socioeconomic class and lifestyle identification.
Some Test Cases:
-Clinton's golfing was an attempt to mimic the entrepreneurs of the late 80's and 90's.
-Gerry Ford actually played football. This wasn't contrived, it got him a scholarship and was important for upward mobility.
-David Dinkins' big mistake was to play Tennis in New York City. Who plays Tennis in NY?
-Elliot Spitzer is a distance runner. I always thought this was enigmatic. He runs alone...
Which politician has the most interesting sporting hobby?
Looking through old issues of the NYtimes (which only get filed once I read them) I found an article that suggests that one's personality can be ascertained by the way that one plays basketball.
Thus, according to Obama's brother-in-law, (the couch of Brown University's Men's team) Obama will be a good president. Not a ball hog, good at admitting mistakes, and with nothing to prove.
I think the NYtimes just gave the Obama Campaign an idea for a fundraiser. $100 hoops with Barack.
You get a 30 seconds in an hour long pick-up game, and Obama's team assignment is random, but the commercial-friendly participants get put on his team (so the opposing team is a bunch of rich white guys who (thank heavens) left the Republican party over the Iraq war, out-of-control fiscal spending, the Patriot Act, or the Terry Schiavo incident.
120 (30 sec. spots) x 9 (players) x $100 = $108,000 of fundraising if he plays continuously for an hour. And it saves him the hour of senate gym time that he talks about in the Audacity of Hope.
The Clintons would prefer a market-based incentivized strategy- an auction: the person who could bundle the most $2,300 checks gets to have an argument with Hilary about any subject of their choice for an hour.
I wonder which campaign would raise more.
I think the more interesting insight of the article is the sport that the candidate picks, in that it speaks to their socioeconomic class and lifestyle identification.
Some Test Cases:
-Clinton's golfing was an attempt to mimic the entrepreneurs of the late 80's and 90's.
-Gerry Ford actually played football. This wasn't contrived, it got him a scholarship and was important for upward mobility.
-David Dinkins' big mistake was to play Tennis in New York City. Who plays Tennis in NY?
-Elliot Spitzer is a distance runner. I always thought this was enigmatic. He runs alone...
Which politician has the most interesting sporting hobby?
Public Reasonings: Episode I
Our story begins deep in the East Village, on a rainy, humid, day in New YorkCity.
The big news is that there wasn't a terrorist attack, but there was a large explosion in East Midtown.
Other than that, very little happened. I discovered an Israeli Grocery Store: "The Holy Land Market."
http://maps.google.com/maps?ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&q=the+holy+land&near=New+York,+NY&fb=1&sa=X&oi=local_group&resnum=1&ct=image
Good fluffy pita.
A bag of pita + large hummus + honey cake + Israeli chocolate candy + 1/2lb of mushroom and cheese bourekas = $12.83
It would have cost half as much in Netanya. When I noted this to the shopkeeper, he pointed out that we weren't in Netanya.
Good Point.
The big news is that there wasn't a terrorist attack, but there was a large explosion in East Midtown.
Other than that, very little happened. I discovered an Israeli Grocery Store: "The Holy Land Market."
http://maps.google.com/maps?ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&q=the+holy+land&near=New+York,+NY&fb=1&sa=X&oi=local_group&resnum=1&ct=image
Good fluffy pita.
A bag of pita + large hummus + honey cake + Israeli chocolate candy + 1/2lb of mushroom and cheese bourekas = $12.83
It would have cost half as much in Netanya. When I noted this to the shopkeeper, he pointed out that we weren't in Netanya.
Good Point.
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