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intertribalI think the first lyrics I knew - before even the Spice Girls - were to Les Miserables and Evita. I think both were my dad's purchases. He was strangely into political musicals. We went to see Madonna's Evita movie as a family when I was about ten, and my mother and I cried during "You Must Love Me" - we asked my dad why he didn't cry, and he said that he had already cried by himself years ago when he saw it on Broadway in London. And of course, there was his obsession with The Return of Martin Guerre. Oddly I think my mother is more an expert on things like the Mahabharata (her summary: "everyone dies"), as she's danced that.
He was strange. It's the most random things I remember. Most of it my mother's second-hand memories, stories she's told me, like him getting lost on one of those loopy highways in his VW Beetle.
The first CD I asked my father to buy for me was the soundtrack to The Lion King.
Sometimes listening to these soundtracks soothes me. Les Miserables reminds me of what I believe in. When my mother first met my father and learned he was a political scientist, she was skeptical, and asked about his views. He said, "saya demokrat sejati," which means, roughly, "I am a sincere, honest-to-God believer in democracy." Sejati means something incomparable in English - it implies a noble loyalty to an idea or a cause. It's comparable to semper fi.
"The answer to that question [how the Vietnam War transpired] begins with a basic intellectual approach which views foreign policy as a lifeless, bloodless set of abstractions. "Nations," "interests," "influence," "prestige" - all are disembodied and dehumanized terms which encourage easy inattention to the real people whose lives our decisions affect or even end."
- Anthony Lake (someone I really look up to) and Roger Morris; "The Human Reality of Realpolitik"
I got it from this article: "Bystanders to Genocide", by Samantha Power. You should really read it.
Mob of Poor People: At the end of the day you're another day older. And that's all you can say for the life of the poor. It's a struggle, it's a war, and there's nothing that anyone's giving. One more day standing about, what is it for? One day less to be living. At the end of a day you're another day colder. And the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill. And the righteous hurry past, they don't hear the little ones crying, and the winter is coming on fast, ready to kill. One day nearer to dying. At the end of the day there's another day dawning, and the sun in the morning is waiting to rise. Like the waves crash on the sand, like a storm that'll break any second. There's a hunger in the land; there's a reckoning still to be reckoned. And there's gonna be hell to pay, at the end of the day.
Boss: At the end of day you get nothing for nothing. Sitting flat on your butt doesn't buy any bread.
Worker Man: There are children back at home, and the children have got to be fed.
Worker Man 2: And you're lucky to be in a job...
Worker Woman: ...and in a bed.
Workers: And we're counting our blessings. At the end of the day it's another day over, with enough in your pocket to last for a week.
Valjean: Must I lie? How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again?
Beggars: When's it gonna end? When we gonna live? Something's gotta happen now or something's gonna give. It'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come...
Enjolras: Where are the leaders of the land? Where are the swells who run this show?
Javert: And so it has been, and so it's written, on the doorway to Paradise, that those who falter and those who fall must pay the price.
Enjolras: It is time for us all to decide who we are: do we fight for the right to a night at the opera now? Have you asked of yourselves what's the price you might pay? Is it simply a game for rich young boys to play? The color of the world is changing day by day.
Valjean, to Cosette: You will learn - truth is given to us all in our time, in our turn.
Fantine, Eponine, Valjean: To love another person is to see the face of God.
Chorus: Do you hear the people sing, lost in the valley of the night? It is the music of a people who are climbing to the light. For the wretched of the earth there is a flame that never dies. Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise. They will live again in freedom
in the garden of the Lord. They will walk behind the plough-share, they will put away the sword. The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward. Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see? Do you hear the people sing? Say, do you hear the distant drums? It is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes!
He was strange. It's the most random things I remember. Most of it my mother's second-hand memories, stories she's told me, like him getting lost on one of those loopy highways in his VW Beetle.
The first CD I asked my father to buy for me was the soundtrack to The Lion King.
Sometimes listening to these soundtracks soothes me. Les Miserables reminds me of what I believe in. When my mother first met my father and learned he was a political scientist, she was skeptical, and asked about his views. He said, "saya demokrat sejati," which means, roughly, "I am a sincere, honest-to-God believer in democracy." Sejati means something incomparable in English - it implies a noble loyalty to an idea or a cause. It's comparable to semper fi.
"The answer to that question [how the Vietnam War transpired] begins with a basic intellectual approach which views foreign policy as a lifeless, bloodless set of abstractions. "Nations," "interests," "influence," "prestige" - all are disembodied and dehumanized terms which encourage easy inattention to the real people whose lives our decisions affect or even end."
- Anthony Lake (someone I really look up to) and Roger Morris; "The Human Reality of Realpolitik"
I got it from this article: "Bystanders to Genocide", by Samantha Power. You should really read it.
Evita: The actress hasn't learned the lines you'd like to hear. She's sad for her country. Sad to be defeated by her own weak body. Don't cry for me, Argentina. The truth is I shall not leave you. Though it may get harder for you to see me - I'm Argentina, and always will be. Have I said too much? There's nothing more I can think of to say to you. But all you have to do is look at me to know that every word is true.
Mob of Poor People: At the end of the day you're another day older. And that's all you can say for the life of the poor. It's a struggle, it's a war, and there's nothing that anyone's giving. One more day standing about, what is it for? One day less to be living. At the end of a day you're another day colder. And the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill. And the righteous hurry past, they don't hear the little ones crying, and the winter is coming on fast, ready to kill. One day nearer to dying. At the end of the day there's another day dawning, and the sun in the morning is waiting to rise. Like the waves crash on the sand, like a storm that'll break any second. There's a hunger in the land; there's a reckoning still to be reckoned. And there's gonna be hell to pay, at the end of the day.
Boss: At the end of day you get nothing for nothing. Sitting flat on your butt doesn't buy any bread.
Worker Man: There are children back at home, and the children have got to be fed.
Worker Man 2: And you're lucky to be in a job...
Worker Woman: ...and in a bed.
Workers: And we're counting our blessings. At the end of the day it's another day over, with enough in your pocket to last for a week.
Valjean: Must I lie? How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again?
Beggars: When's it gonna end? When we gonna live? Something's gotta happen now or something's gonna give. It'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come...
Enjolras: Where are the leaders of the land? Where are the swells who run this show?
Javert: And so it has been, and so it's written, on the doorway to Paradise, that those who falter and those who fall must pay the price.
Enjolras: It is time for us all to decide who we are: do we fight for the right to a night at the opera now? Have you asked of yourselves what's the price you might pay? Is it simply a game for rich young boys to play? The color of the world is changing day by day.
Valjean, to Cosette: You will learn - truth is given to us all in our time, in our turn.
Fantine, Eponine, Valjean: To love another person is to see the face of God.
Chorus: Do you hear the people sing, lost in the valley of the night? It is the music of a people who are climbing to the light. For the wretched of the earth there is a flame that never dies. Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise. They will live again in freedom
in the garden of the Lord. They will walk behind the plough-share, they will put away the sword. The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward. Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see? Do you hear the people sing? Say, do you hear the distant drums? It is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes!
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 09:31 am (UTC)I don't think I can say I'm a sincere, honest-to-God believer in anything. I could see myself calling myself something or joining a group if I thought it would help some practical cause I supported, but I don't know if I actually do or even could believe in anything political. I think in my naive child heart I'm an anarcho-primitivist, but I know that's pointless, impractical, unachievable and unappealing, so I settle for other things. Feel free to bitch me out (seriously).
But why melancholy? You doing okay?
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 02:26 pm (UTC)No, I'm not going to bitch you out. I don't think you have to believe in anything. And of course I don't mean believer like "democracy promotion" or that I would force everyone in the world to love and obey a democracy... because clearly that's not democratic.
Melancholy because a lot of things are up in the air... my job, the possibility of research, etc. Plus I'm just not settled here and I want to go home.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 03:01 pm (UTC)I used to think I just didn't know enough to make a decision to believe in something, and maybe that's still true, but Jason recently said he would be very surprised if I ever believed anything like that, couldn't see me taking up the cause of communism or democracy or anything else, at least not without a lot of qualifications. Still, a lot of anarchists seem to see themselves as believers in 'true democracy.' Not that I'm an anarchist, by any means (and I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote my last comment...goddamn Danial Quinn and his Socratic dialogues), but I don't think what political leanings I have could be considered undemocratic. I don't mean I think you should condemn me or whatever, I'm just saying it's not a bad thing to talk about, and I'm not afraid of disagreement or actually being wrong...
But I thought you just had good news? Hm... Why aren't you settled?
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 03:12 pm (UTC)Good news about the internship, not good news about my on-campus job this semester. That's what I'm currently worried about.
I think I'm having reverse culture shock right now.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 03:31 pm (UTC)Why worried?
I...wouldn't know much about reverse culture shock.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 03:45 pm (UTC)Worried because I might not have my old job back, and I need a job, obviously.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 01:40 am (UTC)yeah, stress related to finding a job really sucks.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 01:46 am (UTC)i got steve to write me a recommendation! now, to see about alexei...(i'm terrified everytime i get email that it will be him either saying "no" or that i have to meet with him to assess my chinese ability, and will die, since i haven't spoken chinese in a month).
no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 01:57 am (UTC)