"Hello, I'm going to read a declaration of a state of war..."

Okay people, no matter where you stand on the political spectrum, pleeease watch this documentary.

It sheds light on a period in history that holds an amazing amount of relevance today. You can watch it instantly on Netflix. It is fascinating and horrifying at the same time.

Here's a comment on yesterday's shooting at Northern Illinois University from the NYT:

"Gee, America. What do you expect? Your adults are waging war in two countries, you don't house your homeless, you ignore Katrina victims, you watch murder and rape on TV but complain about a woman's breast like it is vile...oh, and you kill them in prison, jail them without lawyers for years...and on and on. And you expect your youth to be like sunflowers? Come on. Your children mimic your adult selves. Go shopping and bury your head in sports. It'll be OK."

— lars, seattle

My brain has been a little foggy for the past few weeks, but one thing I've been following carefully is the news about the riots in the suburbs of Paris. After a police car collided with a motorcycle and killed two French teenagers of Moroccan and Senegalese origin last month, major riots broke out and residents used hunting rifles, Molotov cocktails, and rocks to attack police. At least 100 police personnel were injured. Maybe I just haven't been looking or listening in the right places,but there's been seemingly little nuanced discussion about this in the American media. Among people who are talking about it, there appear to be two main reactions: 1. Angry protest is to be expected in situations where large groups of people live in sub-standard conditions, or 2. France should learn its lesson and keep those Muslim immigrants out of the country because they're causing trouble again.

While the first statement is viable, neither gets to the root of the violence, verging on warfare, that occurred in 2005 and again last month. France's President Nicolas Sarkozy has called for a crackdown on the drug culture and "thugocracy" that has overtaken the suburbs. Sarkozy has repeatedly insulted "thugs," suggesting that the main causes are recklessness and stupidity. In an Al Jazeera article he is quoted as saying, "I reject the kind of naive wishful thinking that makes every deliquent a victim of society, and every riot a social problem. What happened in Villiers-le-Bel has nothing to do with a social crisis and everything to do with thugocracy."

What is thugocracy? And how could there ever be a violent uprising without a cause? Some observers assume that wherever there are Muslims, there will be violence. They argue that if you allow Muslim immigrants to enter the country they will spread dangerous anti-Western sentiment, and little by little take control. This article from the Sunday Times in London has accumulated a series of provocative and alarmist comments about the riots. A reader from Flint, Michigan writes, "Deportation. Expulsion. Muslims are unfit to live in any historically Christian nation. Give them one year to get out, and then start sterilizing. Deport, deport, deport." This chilling xenophobic rhetoric echoes Nazi arguments about moving Jews out of Germany, as well as discussions about the perils of Latinos moving across the border into the U.S. I find it appalling to read such disgustingly blatant racist statements anywhere, much less on a news-related website. Haven't we learned anything from the wars and genocides of the past century?

Religion simply does not explain the riots; here's a great explanation of why. Juan Cole also wrote an insightful blog on this subject back in 2005. I've heard a claim that American gang culture has been exported to France in the form of hip hop, creating harsh, violent new masculine ideals. Digging deeper, though, it becomes clear that American culture has little to do with the real problem. France has a long history of colonialism in Africa, and what happened during those years of occupation is profoundly connected to the current situation.

Torture was routinely used as a tool of control by the French Army, and one particularly important example of this was during the Algerian War for Independence from 1954 to 1962. The resistance army, also known as the FLN, employed bloody guerilla warfare as a means of bringing down the French occupation. Since the 1950s, Algerians have moved to France in large numbers seeking jobs and better lives. Poor immigrants are generally limited to housing projects and shantytowns on the margins of French society. A new generation has been born and raised in these circumstances with few financial prospects, and treated as second-class citizens. Colonialism remains central to the problems surrounding French identity and to this day, discrimination has a monumental impact on the lives of first, second and third-generation immigrants. In this culture of hopelessness, violent resistance is likely viewed as the only way to claim power and get noticed by the government.

Mark Patinkin, a columnist for a paper in Providence, RI, claims that the Paris riots say almost as much about America as they do about France. Highlighting the "mostly Muslim underclass" around Paris, he says that the 21st century U.S. is a model of peaceful coexistence. Here's the reason: American minorities have political representation, and minorities in France don't. Does anyone believe we can safely say the United States is a model of ethnic and religious coexistence? Maybe there aren't riots in the streets these days, but there's a lot of underground anger. Consider the case of the Jena 6. There's still a lot of misunderstanding and hatred to overcome.

hyperventilating
woman
with dark
feet
looking backward
and not
knowing
what is old or new
sounds under the
slow
rug
i have lost my toes
and not
knowing
what is old or new
in the sickening
sky
sit down
and pray forehead
on the ground
green
female

How to be Good isn't Nick Hornby's most famous novel, and I don't think it's his best. But what the book lacks in persuasive storytelling it makes up with necessary and uncomfortable questions. The plot centers on marriage and family; Katie is a doctor with a curmudgeonly husband who spends his life complaining and writing a weekly column called "the angriest man in Holloway." Katie wants to be good, but it doesn't come naturally. She finds she has to force herself to be nice to her patients, and she jumps into an extramarital affair with little regret. Meanwhile her husband David encounters DJ Goodnews, a sort of 21st century shaman, who transforms his worldview. David is overcome with goodness and decides to actually live out his beliefs. He gives $80 to a man he has never seen before, takes his daughter's laptop to a women's shelter, and convinces three neighbors to allow homeless people to move into their spare bedrooms. Katie is so disconcerted by David's new saintly lifestyle, she sneaks out at night to sleep in a friend's empty apartment.

What does it mean to be "liberal" in today's world? If you buy produce from the farmer's market, drive a hybrid car, and have an anti-war bumper sticker, is that "good" enough? What does it mean to truly live in a selfless manner? I think Hornby is right to point out the hypocrisy of white middle-class liberalism. I'm reminded of this every time I walk into Whole Foods, where the wealthy customers are buying their fancy organic this-and-that from mostly African American and Latino low-wage employees. There's something wrong with this picture.

This is a worthwhile video from avaaz.org. A nice two-minute summary of the political mess we find ourselves in; the "clash of civilizations" where it's "us" against "those terrorists." Thanks to the amazing Raj at Green Parenting for the link. I read his blog and I'm not even a parent. Check out his post on immigration reform for some very honest and rousing words, and also this one about life in India and looking at stars.

Speaking of nomads, I just noticed this this article from the SF Chronicle about 'neo-bedouins,' officeless independent contractors in San Francisco who move from coffeehouse to coffeehouse with cell phones and laptops in tow. Non-corporate bedouins, if you will.

There are also anti-corporate bedouins: phrogs, or phroggers. The technical definition of phrogging is "To sneak into a house and live among its occupants without their knowledge." There is a fascinating series of videos at livingwithstrangers.com, logging the experiences of two women staying in a stranger's house for five days. Their intent is to live beneath the radar of the economic system, and they explain that phrogs take advantage of houses with vacant rooms and abundant hiding places. They try to be "invisible roommates" and are careful not to break or take anything (aside from food).

The women in the videos are college-educated and say they have intentionally turned away from the rigidity of the 9-5 working world. Instead of getting entry-level jobs like most college grads, they exist in the shadows of others' lives. Meanwhile, they pass the time by playing cards, reading, talking, and learning as much as they can about the owners of the houses they inhabit.

There are diverse reactions to the videos. Some say they are fake, others believe the story. Some say the women should have been found and shot, others say they should be tracked down and put in jail. I think the responses are so vehement because the idea of phrogging undermines the American dream. We're taught that if we work hard enough we can buy a house of our own, and "phrogs" get to enjoy the same comforts for free. I say the whole 'rugged individualism' thing needs to be taken down a few notches. In the U.S. it's unheard-of for homeowners to invite strangers to stay for a few days. In some other countries, it isn't nearly so unusual. So-called phrogging wouldn't exist or wouldn't need to exist if people with large houses shared their space once in a while. Let a few kids camp out in the basement! Okay, make sure they're not criminals on the run first, but let them stay.

On the road between Amman and the old Nabataean city of Petra in Southern Jordan, there are dots of color scattered across the flatness. From antiquated depictions like the one above, I knew they were Bedouin tents without having to ask. It's hard to avoid romanticized notions about the free-roaming lifestyle of Bedouins; the simplicity, the rootlessness. But times are changing. 90% have settled permanently and switched to farming, and 10% continue to travel as nomads with flocks of goats or sheep, inhabiting woven tents. Someone asked our 18-year-old volunteer guide what the Bedouins own and how they survive. He said "They own this land, as far as you can see. It has been passed down by families for hundreds of years." I tried to imagine what it would be like to belong to a stretch of desert without ever claiming one particular plot as home.

In Israel, there is a fierce struggle between the government and indigenous Bedouins in the Negev Desert. Since the 1970s, the Israeli government has been demolishing Bedouin villages and attempting to move the residents to small recognized government townships. This campaign still continues, with 'unrecognized' settlements being bulldozed and people being forced to leave. The Bedouin population is understandably infuriated and some are refusing to go. I'm sad that this story is following the same course as so many others - the indigenous minority group fights for rights and recognition, but ends up mistreated and impoverished.

I went to the Dead Sea on the Jordanian side, where you can look across and see the banks of Israel. A new crop of luxury hotels has sprung up there and each one charges a fee for visitors to use the beach below. At the Dead Sea Spa Hotel, there was a metal detector at the entrance and a guard who checked our bags. Across from the first of two swimming pools leading down to the sea, I saw a replication of a Bedouin tent. It was made from fine materials and had an opening on the side for people to see in. There were beautiful textiles and cushions lining the walls and floor and small benches to sit on. In the midday heat beside a pool and hotel bar, it looked absurd. A chance for tourists to experience fantasies of Bedouin life without leaving the safe bubble of their luxury hotel.

However unsettling this may be, at least in Jordan there seems to be a general acknowledgment of the importance of Bedouins in the history and culture of the region. If I had to choose, I'd prefer that the Bedouin lifestyle be used as a tourist gimmick rather than being scorned or wiped out altogether.

Danger is always exciting. In The Sheik, a 1921 silent film with Agnes Ayres and Rudolph Valentino, Algerian "Sheik Ahmed" abducts a strong, independent British lady and takes her to his camp. She resists his forceful advances until she's kidnapped by a rival sheik. When Sheik Ahmed rescues her, she decides he isn't so bad after all and they fall in love. The film was based on a popular romance novel by Edith Hull, which apparently sparked an extended trend in sheik (or sheikh) fantasies. Elvis incorporated the theme into his farcically campy film Harum Scarum about a singer who is kidnapped and trapped in an imaginary Middle East. The sheikh, the infamous 'bad boy,' still runs rampant in the world of romance novels. Bitch Magazine recently published an article about the subject (thanks to my sister for this), pointing out that the Arab men in these stories are perceived as menacing yet desirable. The website Sheikhs and Desert Love lists all the books published in this genre to date. Some of my favorites titles are Beauty and the Sheikh, Cobra and the Concubine, Bed of Sand, and Arabian Love-Child. Who knew suspected terrorists could be so sexy?

I've wanted to see this film since it came out, but after it left the theater it was tough to get ahold of. Tonight I finally watched the much-acclaimed Head On, or "Gegen die Wand" by Turkish German director Fatih Akin. Having not known much about the premise other than that it was about a Turkish immigrant community in Germany, I was unprepared for the movie's full impact. Watching it was like standing on the sidewalk and being grabbed by someone reaching out the window of a passing bus, hanging by the wrists and watching the ground moving below, waiting to hit the pavement. The first part takes place in the dark underworld of Hamburg, where the two main characters are living grimy and tragic lives. Sibel, the rebellious daughter of a strict Muslim family, and Cahit, a washed-up alcoholic with violent tendencies, have both hit rock bottom. They meet in a mental ward after they've both attempted suicide, and are thrown together by Sibel's determination to marry a Turkish man in a last-ditch effort to appease her stubborn and abusive family. What follows is an unpredictable love story.

The topic of a cultural "homeland" pops up throughout the film. Sibel and and Cahit speak only in German to each other, and when Sibel's family comments on Cahit's poor grasp on the Turkish language, he says he "threw it away." More than anything though, the sense of being caught between cultures comes out in the claustrophobic mood of the film. Stephanie Zacharek wrote in Salon, "Head On isn't strictly a culture-clash movie, possibly because for Akin (who was born in Germany of Turkish parents), the issues of displacement for any Middle Easterner living in Europe are a given -- they're almost too basic to be the subject of a movie." Turkey isn't really in the Middle East, but I agree with the rest of this statement. Akin is telling his story from the inside-out, not the outside-in. And instead of being the focus of the plot, Sibel and Cahit's displacement is more like a cloud of doom that hangs over their self-destructive lives. But it somehow also leads them forward, and after a dramatic turn of events, Sibel finds herself in Istanbul cleaning hotel rooms.

Akin manages to communicate addiction, poverty, and the struggle for female autonomy in a bald, visceral way. I don't think I've ever watched a movie that made me writhe with the same kind of discomfort. Watching Head On forces its viewers to understand what it's like to die violently and then try to live again.

On the fourth of July I sat on a hill overlooking Northeast Los Angeles. The air was warm and hazy with smoke from illegal fireworks, which continued to pound across the valley. The lights shot up from narrow residential streets while my boyfriend and I stared in bemusement. As fairly new residents, we wondered how this madness could ensue without someone being seriously injured or starting a fire. We were joined by a Spanish-speaking family with two young girls who were apparently unfazed by the bursts of light below. The girls sat on cinder blocks and began to squabble, and one of the women told them to keep their hands to themselves. When the youngest began to cry and complain, the family headed back up the road. The booms went late into the night, but as far as I know no major fires broke out. Most of the residue was removed by street cleaners the next day, when I was left wondering why such massive patriotic displays aren't taken as evidence of U.S. loyalty in immigrant communities.

As a young white resident of a mostly Latino neighborhood, I am participating in a gentrifying trend that I'd rather not be implicated in. The "yuppified" areas of L.A. are spreading further and further east. First it was Silverlake and Echo Park, now it's Hollywood, Downtown LA, Eagle Rock, and Highland Park. Gentrification is a delicate phenomenon; crime rates go down, but rent prices go up and long-time residents are forced to leave. Here's an LA Weekly article from last summer. Since moving to the Northeast, I've been trying to figure out how to break out of the "gentrifying white girl" mold. I started learning Spanish. I tried to interact. After seeing the film Quinceañera, I became determined not to be one of the stereotypical people who move in without appreciating what they're pushing out. But sometimes I wonder - does it matter that I care? Even if I'm more culturally sensitive than most, I still have a gay athletic-wear designing neighbor with a pair of brindle boxers that I take to the dog park everyday. Did my landlord do a service by beautifully restoring our 1910 duplex even though his hard work probably alienated the working class neighbors? These questions gnaw at the back of my mind. What I do know is that the cost of housing in Los Angeles County is dangerously high. People are moving east because the closer to the ocean you are, the more you pay.

Last month the LA Times published this story about L.A.'s "ethnic enclaves" as untapped tourist gems. The accompanying photo shows the mural on a corner near my house, and the article describes Highland Park's blossoming Latino art scene. Visitors bring in much-needed income, but as Highland Park's hip and artsy reputation spreads, I understand why some fear it will be the new Silverlake.

In honor of Friday the 13th and all things superstitious, I'd like to note that last month Sun magazine announced that the world will end on 9/11/2007. Owned by American Media, Inc., which also owns the Globe and the National Enquirer, Sun came into the news in 2001 when former editor Robert Stevens was killed by an anthrax-contaminated letter sent to the American Media office. Here's a tasty snippet from the June 2007 Apocalypse article: "Seven flaming visions of Jesus Christ have proclaimed the end of the world on September 11, 2007. In each one, witnesses report that He uttered the words: 'I am the Beginning and the End. The Day of the Lord will come upon you on the 11th day of the ninth month of the seventh year. Be ye prepared and may the Lord god have mercy on you."

Sun reports that experts have shown 2007 is definitely the 7th year Jesus is referring to. According to the article, prayer is your only hope. Get started everybody - the countdown begins...

Dick Cheney is the most influential vice president ever to have served. He is both enigmatic and controlling, which has proved to be a shrewd combination. Amid controversy over Cheney's refusal to comply with an executive order that called for oversight of all executive branch offices a few weeks ago, the Washington Post published a four-part series about the vice president. Among other things, the story argues that Cheney and his lawyer David Addington secretly and almost single-handedly developed laws regarding the treatment and detention of foreign terrorism suspects. Under their plans, suspects could be held indefinitely without charges and without access to any court of law and could be questioned with tactics labeled as "cruel" as long as these methods weren't explicitly defined as "torture" (supposedly the line was drawn at burying someone alive). After reading the article, I began to see why Cheney is making crazy claims so he can dodge oversight and keep his secrets in hermetically sealed vaults.

Out of curiosity I started reading about Mary Cheney, Dick Cheney's openly gay daughter. She published a book called Now it's My Turn: A Daughter's Chronicle of Political Life last year, which avoids talking about the politics of homosexuality altogether. I don't blame her - with a partner of 14 years and a new baby, Mary Cheney is a walking contradiction. But hey, it's not her fault her dad happens to belong to a party overwhelmingly opposed to gay rights. And even if she has tended to fade into the background instead of speaking out, her presence holds significance in an administration that has gone out of its way to conceal all sorts of inconvenient truths.

We've all heard of "dumpster diving" - searching through garbage for useful items - but few people know there is a growing social movement associated with this practice. Freegans (playing on 'vegan') boycott consumer goods to demonstrate the vast and unnecessary waste generated by corporate capitalism. Steven Kurutz profiles several freegans in today's NY Times. While there is fear and stigma attached to consuming things from a dumpster (especially food), freegans argue that supermarkets and restaurants regularly throw away items that are safe and should be used. A manifesto entitled "Why Freegan?" calls for the public to "tread lightly on the Earth" by not purchasing food, driving, or working meaningless jobs in order to buy useless things.

It's an extreme stance, but freegans are headed in the right direction. Look at any impoverished country or region and you'll realize that Americans take the (seemingly) endless amounts of stuff around them for granted. Take 15 seconds to think about the waste you're creating and how you can put it to better use.

Today I found an article that I should have read long ago. It's "Caring for Your Introvert" by Jonathan Rauch. It explains everything I've always felt but never put into words. Yes world, I am an introvert. I don't fear public speaking or expressing my opinions, but I despise socializing in large groups. I find small talk exhausting. I'm often labeled "the quiet girl," which is code for "the boring girl," "the snobby girl," or "the mysterious alien-like girl who seems to have nothing to offer." I'm not snobby and I'm not boring (and I believe I was born on Earth), I just don't process things by talking out loud.

To all of you extroverts out there, please be open to the idea that there is nothing "wrong" with us introverted types. We like doing the same things you do, just in smaller doses. Be patient with us, and we'll be patient with you.

I am not one of the hundreds or thousands of people who will watch Hostel II this weekend. For whatever reason, my nervous system isn't equipped to handle horror movies. And the recent "gorno" (gore/porno) genre is no exception. How to begin to understand Eli Roth, the director of Cabin Fever and the Hostel films? In an MTV interview, he said that the goal of Hostel II is to "build the scariest, baddest, nastiest roller-coaster in the amusement park." This explanation is at odds with what he has said in articles like this one about his films being political commentary on U.S.-backed torture at Guantánamo and Abu Ghraib. Pure entertainment or harsh political satire?

And what's with Roth's claim that Hostel II is a "feminist horror movie?" I guess he's referring to the castration scene that occurs somewhere in the flick. Maybe Roth is trying to critique sexualized violence against women, but if so, I doubt that his mostly teenage audiences appreciate this fine nuance. I happened to hear Eli Roth on the radio show Loveline recently, and he sounded like the most charming, eloquent man you can imagine until he encouraged guys to go see Hostel II because he intentionally put a lot of naked women in it. There were apparently lots of naked men (having sex with naked women) in the first movie. I have to agree with David Edelstein on the "vicious nihilism" of torture porn. Maybe a lot of deep thought is being put into these movies, but the nudity, unimaginable gore, and despair is all that registers in the minds of the young target audiences who see them.