Swallow those words, Sars

Ok I take back some of my earlier criticism of the Gazette for not jumping all over the Premier/Tony Brannon email debacle - because I had a prime opportunity to ask Mr. Scott all those questions myself on Friday night and I did not. I have my reasons for not doing so and I stand by them, but maybe the Gazette had their reasons too, so I'll just shut up now!

All that being said, it felt good to be back in the game - however briefly. This is the interesting thing about doing a Masters vs doing an undergrad degree. During those glorious English major days at Queen's I still had no idea what I wanted to do, where I wanted to be, who I wanted to be - and so, for lack of any other direction, everything was tailored around fitting the programme. The goal was to be a great English major. I tried to shape myself around that.

Now, knowing what I want to do and who I want to be (the "where" is still up in the air), I find that instead of trying to make myself into the perfect historian/IR student, I am instead shaping the programme to fit me. Taking out of it what I know I want. I'm the boss, baby.

It's a pretty empowering feeling.

Of course, as my dear mother and I noted yesterday, that's all very well and good but failing the degree itself after spending all my time doing other things isn't exactly conducive to the cause. So Paul's reply to Bill's points - as well as an update on this weekend, which may well have been the most surreal one I've ever spent (just cannot believe how lucky we all are) - will just have to wait!

Be afraid - be very afraid

To prove to myself that I didn't give up Plea Court for nothing I actually took advantage of one of the infamous LSE evening lectures/debates the other night: American power - global sheriff or international outlaw?

Unsurprisingly the crowd was almost entirely made up of Masters and PhD candidates - the undergrads were all drinking somewhere cool like the Three Tuns, I'm sure. The speakers were Professor William Wohlforth from good ol' Dartmouth College (I miss Vermont!) and Professor Paul Rogers from the University of Bradford. They didn't disappoint.

Prof. Bill went first, cheerfully noting that he hadn't been called to debate at the LSE when the States was saving asses in Kosovo and places like that - but now that Iraq had turned into such a debacle, here he was. ("Well, I am European," quipped the moderator who had invited him.)

Bill made his points simply. First, he declared, the US is not an international outlaw. (Booyah.) Of the treaties they sign, they stick to them. Sure, you can bring up Kyoto and other issues, but if the US didn't sign them and you wanted them to, that means you have political differences with US foreign policy - not that the US is an outlaw. As for ignoring the Geneva conventions regarding prisoners in the war on terror, well, does the Geneva convention really apply here or is it out of date? It was set up regarding prisoners with a state - not to tackle terrorists. There's a debate on international law there, he said, but you'd have to debate that, not whether or not the US is an outlaw. International law is too ambiguous on that point for anyone to pass any judgements.

Second, the US is indeed a sheriff. Well, sorta. And that's not because they are always acting alone - after all, he said, with the exception of Iraq the US has been acting in concert with members of the international community. He set aside background interventions such as working to make Japan feel more secure so they won't get all nervous and start racing China to create nuclear weapons, saying everyone's concerned about the front and centre interventions, military interventions. In fact they are merely part of a growing trend towards increasing international intervention aimed at preventing wars, genocides, and all that other bad stuff.

So this arrangement, he said, citing all those other conflicts that I can't remember right now, is imperfect - but a success. Ignoring Iraq. (As Iraq is quite a significant blunder I thought this was taking just a bit of leeway, but whatever.) Citing a report that's just been released whose name I can't remember now, he noted that violence in the world is actually well down - a fact that doesn't get a whole lot of press. This is because of the end of the Cold War (in which the US played a part), as well as the spread of democracy (in which the US also played a part) and, importantly, becaue of a decrease in civil wars and genocides. The most important reason for THAT decrease is because of - you guessed it - international interventions - often led or supported by the US. So Iraq, yeah, sure - but let's not detract from the big picture here. The US is a part time global sheriff.

(This is the part in the press conference when I'd be tempted to stop writing until the spining is over and wait for the speaker to get back to the issue at hand, but anyway. I guess he's got a point regarding the last ten years. But is that relevant anymore or has Iraq changed everything?)

Anyway - next Bill went on to look at the alternatives. Ok, maybe the world is concerned about a renegade super power, but what other options are there? Multi-polarity - a sharing of the sheriff duties between the great powers? No can do. First of all, no one can match the US. (God bless America.) Second of all, no one else is really trying. Everyone else's defence spending is either holding steady or decreasing, the US is the only one who's pouring money into defence. Why? Because the US isn't threatening their place in the world. They may be unhappy enough to grumble, not but unhappy enough to spend the money to do something about it.

Even if countries were spending the money to form a committee of great powers - countries such as China, Russia, Japan, India - would that system be more efficient or just? "I don't think so," Bill commented. (Is that American arrogant moral superiority, or does he have a point?)

Plus, Bill added, if everyone else starts building up their defences, we'll all end up scaring each other into our own arms races - and then everyone really will be worse off. Cold War all over again. (Yeah, we don't want that really.)

So, with all this evidence, why are we even asking the question, he wondered. It's been sparked by the Bush administration's brief flirtation with neo-conservatism: let's democratise the world. This phase, Bill declares, is over. The US electorate may be more conservative than Europe but it's not stupid - when a president makes a massive strategic blunder, they make him pay. Even the Republicans are running like crazy - no one wants to inherit this foreign policy legacy as the next president. The sheriff is learning. (Poor Dubya.)

So this entire debate is ironic. It's been brought about by Iraq, the very issue which is pushing the US away from that extreme position of 2003.

More on Paul's reply after I actually do some work ...

Bumbling among the wolds

Our first stop in the Cotswolds was at Blenheim Palace, where I got some great interior decorating ideas for my own little shack-in-the-sky, and we all learned lots about Winston Churchill. After seeing where he basically grew up, and hearing about his ancestor the nth Duke of Marlborough who also basically saved Europe in the Battle of Blenheim, you kinda got the feeling that the man with the cigar's "sense of destiny" wasn't that arbitrary after all. I'd be pretty sure that I was destined for great things too if I got to spend my summers in a house the size of a Fairmont hotel, with a yard the size of Bermuda, complete with massive phallic monument to my Europe-saving ancestor erected by a grateful Queen Anne.

Just like that, however, I became not only a Churchill fanatic - am searching for a good biography on him now (it's possible there may be one or two on my Crisis Decision Making reading list, but I haven't looked at that lately) - but also a Royals fanatic. Apparently Prince William is only the second Royal to ever go to a university. Or wait, perhaps he was the first royal to ever go to a university, and some cousin of his who's going to the States this year is the second. Something like that. Either way, Prince William's chances with me are looking up (first in his family to go to college shows some dedication and strength of character, both attributes which I find most commendable). The HSBC connections are supposed to be on the case for me - first chance to sing my praises when bumping into young Will at the water cooler and they will do so.

But a watched pot never boils, so on with our story. We left Blenheim to bumble along the country roads to the Rollright Stones. The Rollright Stones are to Stonehenge as the Cotswolds are to the Andes - just little fellas, but no less intriguing. In fact, once we realised we could borrow Dowsing Rods and check out the wild energy all around the stones themselves, they turned positively fascinating. What kind of energy were the rods measuring? How were they spinning all around like that? What would a Ouija board do in here? What did it all mean? Wouldn't Granny have freaked out if she could've seen them?

A little more bumbling, some rest and relaxation in the "dollhouse" - as their cottage was affectionately nicknamed - and we found ourselves having dinner in a restaurant called 947 A.D. It's called 947 A.D. because that's what date the inn itself was built. Yes, 947 A.D. As in well over a thousand years ago. Oh, and it's been an inn ever since then. It blew my mind. The dinner itself was in the Dinner Club league, as was the conversation. Afterwards we took a pedestrian bumble all around the silent town - completely deserted at just ten p.m. thanks to the gypsys.

Oh yes. The gypsys. Los gitanos. Sorry, apparently we're supposed to call them "the travellers" now. Having just completed "Los cinco en la caravana" a few short weeks earlier I was thrilled to see the few quaint horse-drawn caravans painted green and gold and scattered in about the modern RVs and campers piled onto the field at the bottom of the town. Word on the street is, there's some 13th century charter which allows the travellers to descend on the town every year to hold a horse fair and trade horses. It seemed sketchy to me as so many were travelling by motor van these days and apparently not in need of horses, but there you have it. The villagers, on the other hand, were not as charmed as me - to put it lightly. I'm expecting an out and out revolt within the next 3-5 years.

The next day, after sleeping in to an alarming hour, was spent exploring more of the village - including the infamous sheep runs/alleyways where the sheep would be forced to go one at a time, making them easier to count - and bumbling happily around the countryside in the car. We visited The Yellow Hat Tribe - my new favourite works of art. There we also saw ostriches from the ostrich farm (the relatives claim there are camels and llamas on the Cotswolds too, which must be quite the sight). We also clambered up to the Broadway tower, which was built especially so that the Earl of something-or-other could see it from his home 20 miles away. The things they did in the days before TV.

Standing on top of that hill, the highest of the wolds, looking at the English countryside spreading out before us in a slightly mystical, spooky haze, with the sharp smell of fresh earth in your nose and a bracing, cold breeze blowing through you, you could see two Englands: the dear little country England of villagers walking the commons, picking blackberries and picnicking with their thermoses of tea; and the ancient, wild England of the pagan Celtic days, with the mists of Avalon parting before you and wild calls and fire on the wind. For a second even London seemed young.

And so we bumbled on back towards Oxford. Can't stay in the Cotswolds drinking Argentine Syrrahs forever, you know. Some of us have a Master's to do here.

Oh yeah, that Master's degree

Must really get down to actually doing that.

It's been a great few weeks here in jolly England, with first one guest and then another, exploring the London club scene with the hilarious Investment Bankers/French Canadians, and watching at least one of the Infamous Canadians (class of 2003) tear up the town. This weekend we decided to really start getting back into the academic flow of things by attending Quiz Night in the bar on Friday (where the question on where Che Guevara was killed led to the question of where he was born and - honestly - the question of whether he was Cuban or Argentine. Where are you when I need you, TJL!). Feeling a little unsure on the wisdom of choosing to do what is technically a history degree after my performance on the history section, I was vastly reassured that the four years at Queen's wasn't a waste after being able to proclaim Becky Sharp as a character in Vanity Fair. Take that, Queen's Commerce! Unfortunately was so excited about getting the answer right that said it a bit too loudly, enabling all the teams around us to use our correct answer. But the bottle of wine we eventually won for coming in second place (as well as the steady stream of drinks that were being put on my card at the bar for the gang) managed to dull that pain.

That night then culminated in my Infamous Canadian getting hit on by two guys at once, in a brief history lesson on the meat market during the 1300s from the two favourite Investment Bankers, and in me meeting from the Largest White Man I Have Ever Seen - Marcus, who memory now paints as eight feet tall with paws like sandpapered boxing gloves, who was chowing down outside the place we'd stopped to get food. Fortunately I was rescued by one of the Investment Bankers (let's call him "Like Dan", or LD, for now). LD, I believe, told Marcus he was my brother. Marcus didn't seem to pick up on the discrepancy between this statement and LD's pronounced French Canadian accent, but I think he'd had a long day after all.

The next day, after a very successful bout of shopping on Portobello Road where Kari and I came away with definite bling but still lots of money in our wallets, the Investment Bankers took us under their wing again - what great guys. Of course, the undisputed favourite is my old Bermuda friend, who I shall call by his London alter ego "Dan" (as differentiated from Like Dan, or LD. LD is apparently just like Dan in certain aspects which I shall refrain from detailing now out of respect for the parents who still read this site.) Dan's the Best Ass. Ever, of course - the undisputed favourite - but the others certainly have their, um, attributes. LD can, for instance, moo any song you name - including the Ninth Symphony and Britney Spears' Toxic. Believe it. He's demonstrated. Moo. Meanwhile the one we'll call YAH is young at heart. That's "young at heart". If you mishear that statement at all in a crowded bar after a unhappily protracted dry season, keep it to yourself please.

After saying a very early morning goodbye to Kar the next day and sadly leaving her at the airport (yes, I am very destabilised now) I decided to go and actually meet new people - then said ah, screw it, and got on the bus to go stay with the Fam in the Cotswolds.

A wold, by the way, is a hill. The knowledge is just accumulating up here.

And they're out of the blocks ...

Enough with the worrying about what's going on at home. Sketchy Sked provides far more food for thought - with far less accompanying stress!

Classes are finally moving into full swing this week, with Sex, Race and Slavery kicking off quite spectacularly by Sketch debunking the entire Christian faith within the first five minutes ("Christians are obsessed by sex while Jesus barely makes any reference to it - meanwhile all the things that Christ really cared about are pretty much ignored by the Christian faith. Jesus didn't even know what a homosexual was, he lived in the Ancient World where everybody had sex with everybody and it didn't matter - as Marc Antony famously put it in a letter, 'It doesn't matter where you put it, so long as you put it somewhere'. Yes, he was referring to his penis.")

I'm taking that class for the race and slavery sections, honestly, but the sex section - which apparently will dominate the first term - is certainly proving interesting so far.

Political Islam promises to be far more difficult - and less entertaining. The two hour lecture yesterday was given at top speed without regard for the fact that the majority of the students have no idea how to spell all the Islamic words involved. Clearly I will have to get my school skates on in a hurry for this one. Same with Crisis Decision-Making, for which we had our first seminar this morning. It was forcefully driven home that my lack of a history background is going to be a handicap for me in this programme. Fortunately everything around the history parts - i.e. the thinking about why such and such a thing happened, what people were thinking, what caused this to happen and that not to happen, the actual international relations part of the history of international relations course - is proving to be exactly what I wanted. Phew. My life savings are not being wasted!

In the meantime, I continue in my bad habit of hanging out largely with people I already knew before coming to London. The excuse right now is that former 40 Aberdeen alumni Kari Leigh is here staying for the week - we've been having a great time tearing up London, while the Investment Banker Crew has very kindly taken us out several times and even provided a healthy supply of their drink of choice, champagne and Red Bull. Nice one, gentlemen. Too bad as an Independent Woman I can't accept their charity for much longer (or buy rounds myself), but it was fun the first few times! Who knew investment bankers could have so much kick to them.

In short, the wheels are slowly starting to turn. I should really enjoy this creaking stage before they start picking up speed ...

Point taken, Tony

Yes, there are a few key differences in the two situations - namely that Nancy is a mere Lifestyles reporter while the Premier is, well, the Premier, and therefore must be held to a higher standard in just about everything. Comes with the territory.

But then again, that can easily be negated by arguing that while Nancy doesn't deal with news, she is part of the RG and the RG itself as an organisation must be hold itself to the standards that it's calling everyone else to account on. In short, point taken, Tony.

What are you up to, Sir John?

Why's he making so much noise all of a sudden? Finally just too fed up to care, or is there some future plan in mind?

That's what I'm talking about!

Yeah Bill!

You've got to be joking

It's not the Premier's excuses for why he was "not being racist" that really bug me. After all, the phrase "look like" seems to carry far more racial undertone in Bermuda than it does anywhere else thanks to Renee Webb's infamous comment. Every time I have discussed this issue with friends from Canada, Norway, Argentina, Denmark, the States, and England, they have been far more taken aback at how technologically incompetent "P" is than at anything else. Congrats, Island Girl, you have lost your much-heralded position as number one committer of email faux pas!

That being said, the comment was made in Bermuda by a Bermudian Premier, a member of Ms Webb's party, the party which clearly buys into the "looks like me" concept. So perhaps it has more racial undertone than outsiders might believe.

Even so, I'm going to be daring and leave the race issue aside entirely - mostly because I'm sick of it. I don't remember it being like this when I was younger - but let's not get started.

First, there's P's ever-strengthening links with religion. I actually defended the state joining with the Church on National Prayer Day to friends who were up in arms about it. I saw it as a way for a significant proportion of Bermuda's community to feel a sense of unity in the face of increasing social chaos. I stopped defending him on that issue after the press conference releasing the BIC report, however, when a smug Premier announced to the media that on National Prayer Day he had turned to Wayne Furbert of the UBP and told him he loved him, "and there wasn't a thing he could do about it". I am a heathen, yes, but even I could see the ideological chasm between actually believing in religion as a tool for unity, and using it as a way to get your political opponent's goat - and then bragging about it on national TV. Perhaps he was just trying to be funny, but isn't that belittling the whole purpose of National Prayer Day?

He also blew up Tony B's comments to take them as criticism for his part in National Prayer Day and his nomination of Bishop Lambe as head of the BIC. Methinks P doth protest too much? Once again, using religion for political capital. Does Bermuda's religious faction see this?

"The Lord works in mysterious ways", he said of the email finding its way to Tony Brannon. If the Lord gave us a Premier who can't work a Blackberry, and then a heathen I shall remain.

But he did agree it was inappropriate of him to make such comments to a civil servant, and to use a piece of Government equipment to do so. Considering he's often seen as a public relations master, P sure does have trouble maintaining boundaries - sending inappropriate emails to his director of communmications, using Government departments to conduct party business, and having the PLP spokesman present at the BIC report press conference. It was a Government press conference, wasn't it? So what was the party spokesman doing there?

Then there's the threadbare accusation that the RG is being divisive. Especially amusing in this case due to the RG's notable lack of coverage on this whole email issue - not even a story saying "A response from the Premier has not yet been obtained by this newspaper". That's a story, right there. But they didn't do it. Fortunately Plea Court still got covered.

P even hearkened back to Grant Gibbons' eunuch comment. That was my story, and I don't even remember when I wrote it, it was so long ago. I couldn't believe the big deal they made about it - especially since it wasn't the RG that called him a eunuch. It was Grant Gibbons. We print it; they accuse us of being divisive. We don't print it; they could then legitimately accuse us of presenting a biased view or suppressing information. Not to mention that, as previously noted, it must've been made about a year ago. Get over it, P! Welcome to politics!

Either way the RG is used to being shot, boring and repetitive as it used to get for me when I worked there. I don't want to speak on their behalf, and I know the newspaper shouldn't be drawn into the fray, but it's so frustrating sometimes, especially when after two years of working there and being given pretty much totally free reign to do what I wanted (except for, again, wasting far too much time on good ol' Plea Court), I know from experience how off base the accusations now are.

It's a vicious cycle: yes, historically there was a bias towards the UBP. Therefore the PLP doesn't trust the paper. Therefore they hate talking to it. Therefore the young, new reporters - all those reporters from England who really don't care about the UBP or the PLP, and even us young Bermudian reporters who also don't care (someone start a third party soon, PLEASE!) -end up doing more UBP stories out of necessity. The UBP can't get enough of the Gazette, they are calling all the time. For my part, most of the time they were calling with legitimate stories, so I did them. When I thought they weren't legit, I didn't do them. And so more UBP stories are churned out because the UBP will talk to the Gazette while the PLP won't, and next thing you know RG reporters who weren't even around last year are accused of bias. Round and round we go.

As for him going on about Phil Wells' satirical column again, this is where I really start to lose my patience. He's got to be joking. As a wise man once said to me, when our leaders get to the point where they cannot take criticism, we are in serious trouble. Has P checked out The Onion lately? Watched The Daily Show? I suppose that if Conan O'Brien were to do a Alex Scott impression instead of his spot-on George Bush impression, P would want to pull Late Night also. I would just love to see Triumph the Insult Comic Dog's reaction to that.

“It is time now for a frank and candid look at the pervasive negative behaviours of not only those we are eager to identify on Court Street, but those who we tend to want to ignore on ‘high’ street," he apparently says in today's advertisement (note that once again the PLP have elected to choose taking out an ad rather than do an interview with the paper. They can't work with you if you won't work with them, Mr. Scott - one day a PLP politician is going to have to have the testicular fortitude to work with the new generation of the media, despite losing all the political capital they get from casting the media as the villian. By the way, who paid for the ad?).

That statement, coupled with Scott Simmons' statements about examining the media after Limey's article came out, are the bits that really, really bug me. Are they listening to themselves? What are they going to do, try to shut down the Gazette - a newspaper that, especially in this case, has barely said anything anyway? Are they really suggesting it's time to put restrictions on the media? To put a cap on freedom of speech?

It's this kind of thing that makes me almost wish I was back at That Place and in a position to actually challenge them on these views. Come on, media - hold them accountable!

I can't wait to hear the Throne Speech now.

Tired of explaining things to the virgins?

Classes and lectures seem to be getting under way finally here in Londinium. Yesterday was Crisis Decision Making, where I began to really wonder about organisation here - a seminar sign-up sheet the profs handed out took a whopping two hours to circle the room. Not the best laid out sign-up sheet. I thrive on chaos theory and disorganisation, but that did surprise me a little bit.

The first one today was the Politics of Islam - man is that a long reading list. It'll be interesting, and timely - "the great cultural divide of our time" - and all that. But it's the other course which began today that I have really high hopes for. Sex, Race and Slavery. Bring it on. The prof has the perfect dry English humour and understates everything even as he's giggling at his own jokes at the lectern. It was originally an undergraduate course but apparently he "got tired of explaining things to the virgins". "I hope that none of you have any - um - hang ups," he told us, adding an anecdote about an essay written by "quite a gay little chap" which was being discussed in class - the prof turned to a Muslim girl to ask what she thought and she replied, "I don't care, they should all have their heads cut off!". Naturally he was a bit taken aback and had to make some effort to steer her back to the history discussion they were in fact having.

In about ten minutes he also noted the theory that a homosexal army is the perfect army, because a) the soldiers don't want to look weak in front of their lovers and b) they would die for their lovers. When such an army was created in Thebes - the Golden Army - the theory proved true, they kicked everyone's asses. As wars were fought in Ancient Greece for pretty much the sole purpose of preventing other nation states from killing you and taking your women and children as slaves, this meant that gays were preventing slavery. That compared to today, where the descendant of slaves - Colin Powell - is dead set against gays in the military.

Thoughts, Bermuda Regiment?

And Race, Violence and Colonial Rule in Africa is still yet to come. I have high hopes for that one also.

In the meantime the Desperate Dance to Make Friends continues. A little shell-shocked from living in a student residence again (it's Trinity all over again, right down to the tables in the dining hall. I have regressed nine years) I made less than no effort last week, instead enjoying the company of fellow Bermudians. Now the fellow Bermudians have abandoned me and in a sad attempt to fill the hole in my life I have signed up for: rowing, hockey, swimming, climbing, the cooking club, the wine society, a south african charity project, squash, the book club, the volunteering society, yoga, ballroom dancing, and the women's network. Plans to continue Spanish courses and learn French are also in the works, while I am printing out the list of different lectures on at school this year to make sure I can attend the interesting ones.

I don't even know what the women's network is, I just signed up to it because Fellow Bermudian Stephen N signed up to it, and I am dying to see all the women's reactions to him.

Something tells me I may not be keeping up with all these commitments.

Just imagine if I did, though. What a super fit, sexy, well-rounded and accomplished young lady I would be!

Where are my glasses

Boy, that article in the RG today where the reporter asked Alex Scott what he would have done had Grant Gibbons been caught saying he was tired of taking crap from people that look and sound like Rolffe Commissiong - and actually got an answer from the Premier - sure was small, wasn't it. Earth-shattering info about the drunk whose keys might or might not have been in the ignition, though.

What's up, guys?