All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.
The Daily News reports that many of the rescue and cleanup workers who served at Ground Zero are now suffering from unusual cancers, including pancreatic cancer, which is almost always fatal. According to Dr. Charles Hesdorffer, an oncologist at Columbia Presbyterian, “In all instances, the cancers developed in young, otherwise healthy individuals with no personal or family histories of cancer.”
Well, at least it was a heterosexual marriage, so it didn’t erode any sanctity or anything.
I feel dirty now.
Anyway, I just wanted to quote the songs in full and let you make what you want of them.
Peace Like a River (1971)
Peace like a river ran through the city
Long past the midnight curfew
We sat starry-eyed
We were satisfied
And I remember
Misinformation followed us like a plague
Nobody knew from time to time
If the plans were changed
If the plans were changed.You can beat us with wires
You can beat us with chains
You can run out your rules
But you know you can’t outrun the history train
I’ve seen a glorious day.Four in the morning
I woke up from out of my dreams
Nowhere to go but back to sleep
But I’m reconciled
Oh, oh, oh, I’m going to be up for a while*
American Tune (1973)
Many’s the time I’ve been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
But I’m all right, I’m all right
I’m just weary to my bones
Still, you don’t expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from homeAnd I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered
I don’t have a friend who feels at ease
I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered
or driven to its knees
But it’s all right, it’s all right
We’ve lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the road
we’re traveling on
I can’t help it, I wonder what went wrongAnd I dreamed I was dying
And I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high up above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
Sailing away to sea
And I dreamed I was flyingWe come on the ship they call the Mayflower
We come on the ship that sailed the moon
We come in the age’s most uncertain hour
and sing and American tune
But it’s all right, it’s all right
You can’t be forever blessed
Still, tomorrows going to be another working day
And I’m trying to get some rest
That’s all I’m trying to get some restI’m trying to get some rest
So when I read today in Ambiguous.org that the Rhode Island chapter of the National Organization for Women is sponsoring a program called Freedom Fridays: Wear Red as an antiwar protest, it set off certain alarm bells. According to the website, red was used as a code by Norwegians in World War II who were protesting the Nazi occupation. But in American political consciousness, the color red represents something else entirely. And the idea of secret Reds has a nasty history indeed, including both the baseless Red-baiting of the McCarthy era and the post-Soviet revelations that Communist spies were indeed deeply embedded in the American government in the 1940s. I can just imagine the headlines in the Conservative press when they get a hold of this: “Secret Reds Subvert War on Terror!” “New England Feminists Encourage Antiwar Communism!”
Remember, my left-leaning friends, that we’re working for an election here — one in which we’ll have to inspire middle-of-the-road undecideds to lean our way — not a revolution. Secret cabals of Reds will not help the cause.
The choice of Singh sends all the right messages. Because he was the architect of India’s successful economic reforms, the business community will be reassured that the return of Congress does not mean a return to state industry and quasi-socialism. He is also squeaky-clean, a rarity among Indian politicians. As a non-Hindu, he is a living demonstration of India’s secular inclusiveness and a rejection of the BJP’s Hindu nationalism. And as a Sikh, he is proof that the painful events of 1984 are firmly in the past, both for India and for the Congress Party.
Plus, of course, the elevation of a Sikh to the highest office in the land may well usher in a golden age of bhangra dancing, which has to be one of the coolest things ever.
Or take India, for example. While the drama in Delhi these last few days might seem a little nuts, just consider how sane you’d feel if the weather was 111 degrees with widespread dust, and you lived in a town where most people have no air conditioners and the electricity craps out in the heat of the afternoon.
If it ever hits 111 in New York for more than two days running, I expect mass looting and general carnage, not to mention multiple hijackings of ice cream trucks.
Jon Stewart, one of my favorite too-smart Jews, gave a commencement speech at William and Mary that’s well worth a read. [via Wonkette]
I have just finished rereading Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses. When I first read it many years ago, I didn’t know much more about India than what I’d learned from Ravi Shankar and the Beatles, and my knowledge of Islam was even sketchier. I hadn’t even seen My Beautiful Laundrette. I remember finding it a difficult novel, and I don’t think I ever made much sense of the whole bit about the pilgrims from Titlipur, who march from their little village to the Arabian Sea, expecting it to part for them so that they can walk to Mecca.
On a second reading, I believe it may be the great Rushdie novel, surpassing even the extraordinary Midnight’s Children. It asks very deep questions — What is faith? What are good and evil, and how do we tell them apart? What is God? — and works on them through complex, moving narratives, without ever giving in to the temptation to answer them outright. And for whatever reasons, the novel touched me this time in a way that few novels have.
*
On a separate note, India continues its extraordinary tradition of melodrama with Sonia Gandhi’s tearful performance today in parliament. Was it sincere or all for show? Is this a ploy for sympathy and support, or is she really stepping down? Whatever the case, the whole show is worthy of a Bollywood weeper. Now all we need is a song-and-dance number.
The subsequent week is Meditate NYC, a weeklong opportunity to explore NYC’s diverse Buddhist communities as they offer open houses and meditation sessions for beginners or the curious.