Friday, February 11, 2011

Observations from the Coffee Shop 2.11, Egypt

So in the end the Egyptian military made its choice and Mubarak had to go.

Call me strange if you must but I get so into moments like this. Maybe after studying so much history I just get a kind of high when I realize I'm seeing history being made as I watch. If I could have been there I would have, taking pics or sitting on top of a tank just taking it all in. Maybe I found my camera too late and missed my calling; maybe it's never too late. Please don't anybody tell my dad I wrote that.

With Wael Ghonim as their hero the Egyptian people toppled the so called 'Last Pharaoh' and forced his resignation. Ghonim , a 30 year old Google executive , was the anonymous activist behind the 'We Are All Khaled Said' Facebook page from which the January 25th movement evolved. For the last eighteen days the people of Egypt chased a dream, a dream of freedom, and today they caught up with that dream. Nobody can know how events will play out in the next few weeks and months but one thing is certain; Egypt and the world itself will never be the same. And what comes after this? "Ask Facebook," Ghonim told CNN. "I want to meet Mark Zuckerberg one day and thank him."

In October Malcolm Gladwell wrote in The New Yorker (l) that "the revolution will not be tweeted." Maybe he was wrong, maybe the next revolution is being planned on Facebook as I write this. I can only hope so.

Allāhu Akbar

Steve Earle - The Revolution Starts Now

23:50 update - Once again the GOP is on the wrong side of history. In his speech to the CPAC convention Ron Paul disagreed with the idea that the US "has a moral responsibility to spread our goodness around the world.We need to do a lot less a lot sooner, not only in Egypt but around the world."

Observations from the Window 2.11

It was below twenty degrees again last night. I don’t really care how far below twenty it goes, below twenty is cold enough for me. I just sit in the window watching the people walk down the street all bundled up and all looking like smokers who found a way to smoke without cigarettes. Even my vendor has disappeared for now, his spot on the corner replaced by of trash appearing under a melted snow pile which is now frozen into some macabre urban ice sculpture. It all combines to make me dream of spring, something that at times seems farther away every day.

My brain has started a list, a sort of psycho wish list, of things to keep itself warm. So ....

I want it to be warm outside; I'm talking 70 or 80 degrees warm. I want to be able to say I'm hot and not just be looking in the mirror when I say it. I want to hear that I have the house at the shore for my annual week of relaxation or solo debauchery or whatever it is I do there. I want to sit with my feet buried in the sand while I sip on an ice cold Corona and chew on the lime. True, I don't actually sip beer but I like the thought just the same. I want Fred's. I want to drive Foxy with the top down, the stereo blaring, and peeps thinking I must be totally insane. I want to buy sunscreen and not just need it for my face because the snow is too damn bright.

I want to sit on the roof in a tank and shorts and watch the stars all night.

Now that I have probably totally jinxed myself I do have one realistic thought that is warming. Phillies pitchers and catchers report Sunday. Maybe spring isn't that far off after all.

Sheryl Crow - Anything But Down