But Enough About You: Essays (48 page)

I vividly recall the speaker at my own graduation, so many years ago now. He—or she—said to us, “You stand on the shoulder of people who came before you, so don’t jiggle.” Wise words indeed. And isn’t that what education is all about?

Great changes have taken place during your short lifetime. You no longer have to hunt woolly mastodons with rocks and spears if you want a late-night snack. If you want something to eat, you simply say, “Hey, waiter.” If it’s money you want, you no longer have to stick a gun in the teller’s face and say, “Give me all your money.” You just hack into their mainframes. Things really aren’t so bad, when you come right down to it.

It has been said that those to whom much has been given will want even more. Someday, not in my lifetime, perhaps, but maybe in yours, human beings will be able to eat all they want without putting on weight. Someday they may be able to avoid jury duty by simply sending in a postcard saying, “No way!” Someday, computers may not only be able to beat human beings at chess, but also at tennis and ice hockey and volleyball. Someday, computers may be able to marry Brooke Shields.

Whether all this comes to pass is now up to you. It is your turn now. My generation is tired. Soon we will take the money you are paying into Social Security and move to gated communities in places where it does not snow and we can start drinking before five o’clock. Or even earlier. In fact, I’ve already started, not that you would notice.

Yours will be an era of great change. But, as George Harrison put it with the piquancy that is uniquely his, “You know it don’t come easy.” You will spend hours stuck in traffic listening to cabdrivers explain their proposals for peace in the Middle East. Your flights will be delayed—or, yes, even canceled. Your frequent-flier miles will expire, and the microwaved bean burrito, hot as molten lava on the outside, will still be frozen on the inside. You will be tested, perhaps as no generation before has ever been tested. At such times, try to remember—to paraphrase the words of another Beatles song, “Hey Dude”—that it is a fool who takes his world and tries to maker it cooler by inhaling freon.

In one of the last letters he ever wrote to Dorothy Parker, inventor of the fountain pen that bears her name even today, the prince formerly known as Niccolò Machiavelli declared, “If all the
papardelle
in the world were laid end to end, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.”
It may be daunting to you to imagine twenty-five thousand miles of bow-shaped pasta girdling the globe, but let me today say to you, on behalf of my generation, “You can do it!” We certainly hope you can, anyway. It cost a lot of money to educate you people, you know.

—
The New Yorker
, June 1997

Which of the following do you most resemble?

A. John Glenn

B. Scott Glenn

C. Glen Campbell

D. Glenn Close

Which of the following do you enjoy watching?

A. 
I Dream of Jeannie

B. 
CSI: Orlando

C. 
Desperate Housewives

D. 
Dog the Bounty Hunter

E. 
Three’s Company

Which of the following items would you
not
bring on a road trip?

A. Brass knuckles

B. Teddy bear

C. Nunchuck sticks

D. Throwing stars

E. IED

Which of the following statements best describe the correct relationship between astronauts?

A. More than a working relationship but less than a romantic one.

B. More than a not-romantic relationship, but less than a bodily-fluid-exchanging one.

C. More than a purely physical relationship, but less than one where we don’t give each other enough space.

D. More than having hot, steaming, bare-assed, mind-blowing sex while orbiting the earth 250 miles above, but less than doing it on the surface of the moon.

At the end of the movie
2001: A Space Odyssey
, the space ship piloted by Keir Dullea has apparently landed in a lavishly decorated parlor. Which of the following scenarios best describes to you what has happened?

A. The parlor represents the decorative ideal that the apes in the first scene were striving to articulate by clubbing each other with the jawbone.

B. The director, Stanley Kubrick, went totally off his nut.

C. What kind of astronaut name is “Keir Dullea” anyway? These are stupid questions. I don’t have to talk to you. Leave me alone.

D. I
said
leave me alone.

E. Won’t listen, huh? Here, have some pepper spray.

When you hear the words “Houston, we have a problem,” what is the first thing that comes to mind?

A. Malfunction in the retro-fire OMS rockets.

B. Loss of ceramic heat-shield tiles on takeoff.

C. Thruster malfunction in the Reaction Control System.

D. Shuttle commander is attempting to boil crew member’s bunny rabbit.

A space shuttle travels at approximately 15,000 mph. A BB pellet has a velocity of about 50 feet per second. If a space shuttle were
launched from Houston and a BB gun were fired simultaneously, which would hit the boyfriend-thieving bitch in the Orlando airport satellite parking lot first?

Complete the following sentence: “Three-two-one . . .”

A. Ignition.

B. Ready or not, here I come!

C. Oh God, oh God, oh
GOD, give it to me—now!

D. Roll down the window, Colleen.

—
Slate
, February 2007

Bulnadir Glubglubaddin,
46. Pashtun. Warlord. Ruled Afghanistan for five hours (1992) until he was overthrown by his cousin
Abdulnadir.
Since ’92, has lived in London but has been unable to find full-time employment as warlord. A self-styled “liberal,” he allows his four wives to speak to one another twice a year on feast days, and even allows them to walk ahead of him, though his political rivals suggest that this is due to his fear of land mines.

Rasheed Haq,
42. Pushtun. Warlord-producer-director. Son of 1970s-era government minister, he attended Beverly Hills High
School. Recruited by CIA to document Soviet occupation, but disappointed by making “art” films (
My Dinner with Achmed
,
Bamiyan Mon Amour
) instead of videotaping Russian atrocities. However, has extensive contacts within Pakistani Intelligence, whom he has cultivated with addresses of movie actresses taken from outdated “Maps to the Hollywood Stars’ Homes.”

Nugud Attal,
52. Pishtun. Warlord–grief counselor. Wealthiest of the warlords, maintains villas in Montreux, Cap-Ferrat, and Majorca. Built fortune by “offering” grief counseling to relatives of his tribe’s victims at above-market prices. Is said not to be on cordial terms with fellow warlord
Badman Shah
(see below), whose turban he set on fire during a theological discussion in 1984.

Affal Zir,
24. Hazara. Warlord trainee. Entered the Warlord Baccalaureate program at Kunduz University, where he was a member of the Glee, AK-47, and Heroin Smuggling Clubs. Took junior year off to be warlord intern under
Bludrunnin Haq
but never returned to college. Popular among Gen-X warlords for not summarily executing those caught listening to rock music. But his widely quoted remark—“Pashtuns have brains softer than figs”—has not endeared him to some, who have threatened to cut out his tongue.

Malak Alak Mir,
64. Uzbek. Warlord emeritus. The “Grand Old Man” of the Northern Alliance, has been fighting continuously since his fourteenth birthday. Told the BBC that he hopes to be fighting “someone—anyone!—when I am 164, God willing.” May be the one man with enough authority to pull together the so-called Rainbow Coalition from Hell: Pashtun-Pushtun-Pishtun-Hazara-Huzara-Tajik-Uzbek-Methodist. A colorful character, he is apt to slaughter goats in the middle of press interviews and offer the blood to squeamish Western reporters.

Badman Shah,
32. Tajik. Warlord consultant. Prefers to operate behind the scenes. Since 1992, has consulted not only with Afghanistan’s leading warlords, but all over the world. Offices in Burma, Nigeria, Somalia, and Calgary. His fee structure, a monthly retainer plus hourly rates and first-class air travel as well as east-facing hotel suites, has caused client grumbling, but J. D. Powers Associates named him “#1 Warlord Consultant” in 1997. Motto: “Being a successful warlord today means not just killing the people, but terrifying them 24/7.”

Yur Al Tost,
36. Shiite minority, non-Hazara. Warlord-Starbucks franchisee. Cultivated valuable contacts through his six Starbucks locations, all within one block in downtown Jalalabad. Disseminated anti-Taliban political statements through sales of CDs, deceptively labeled
Tunes to Beat Women To
, and
Be-lightful, Be-lovely, Be-headed
. Rumored to have eliminated rivals by poisoning their Mocha Frappucinos.

Abdulrash Azhol,
37. Huzara. The “Warlord’s Warlord.” Sent letter to U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan vowing to kill him if he attempts to impose peace on Afghanistan. Hobbies: harshly interpreting Holy Koran, instigating trouble between other warlords, firing on convoys of trucks carrying humanitarian aid. An avid practical joker, he once put C-4 explosive inside his “unamused” fellow warlord
Gulbaddin Hekmatyar’s
toothpaste.

Mohammed Zahir Shah,
87. Ex-king. Has lived in Rome since being deposed by his cousin in 1973. Might unify Afghan tribes at a
loya jirga
(“Grand Kaffeklatch”), but the U.S. State Department is reported concerned by his lack of a warlord credential. Also, his habit of calling everyone he meets “Sweetie” may not sit well with the sterner tribal leaders.

—
The New Yorker

I went down yesterday to the Piraeus with Glaucon, that I might offer up my prayers to the goddesses Brussels and Euro. There we chanced to find among other companions Polemarchus, who was sorely vexed.

Why the long face? I asked.

He replied that his wife, a hairdresser, had just been informed by the Assembly that because of the recent calamities in the Treasury, the state will no longer recompense her an additional sum on top of her regular fee for dying her ladies’ locks with Egyptian henna.

It leaves her hands much stained, he said. Is this the action of a just state, that it should abrogate the Handling of Possibly Dangerous Substances clause in the Hairdressers Guild Contract—said to date to the time of the Titans?

Amid the general murmuring, Cephalus, a Retiree, began to curse so vehemently as to make Hera turn the color of pomegranate, saying that he, too, had been ill used by the Assembly.

Now they tell me, he said, that I may no longer have free passage aboard the state interisland trireme for my visits to Mykonos, where I make sacrifice to Apollo Suntan Oil. Am I to pay for transport out of my own purse? Did I not give Athens a lifetime of service, a full ten years, licensing and dispensing the monthly bonuses to Thessalonian olive inspectors?

Indeed you did, I replied, but did the Assembly not recompense you an additional portion for knowing how to operate the bonus-tabulating counting apparatus, and another portion for speaking Phoenician?

Why should I not receive a little extra? he hotly replied. Are the foresters not paid an extra portion for working in the forest?

Very well, I said, but let me ask you, Should a fisherman be paid extra for fishing?

Glaucon replied, Yes, that would be only fair inasmuch as fish,
though beloved of Poseidon, are slimy and often stink. Nor is catching them a pleasant business, for one must rise and take to the boat even before Helios’s chariot has climbed in the East.

Mischievous Adeimantus interjected, I suppose, Socrates, you will now ask if a philosopher should be paid extra to corrupt the youth of Athens? This occasioned a great slapping of thighs.

I replied, Before you would increase the philosopher’s salary, Adeimantus, you must first
give
him a salary. Look at my cloak. It is not nearly as fine as that of our companion Niceratus, who as collector of fees at the Temple of Athena on the Acropolis is paid a higher hourly wage than Herakles received for cleaning out the Augean Stables. And he gets an extra portion merely for showing up on time. No wonder the state money-house looks as though it has been visited by the Furies. Tell me this, Did brave Achilles demand extra compensation for slaying Hector?

He should have, asserted Cleitophon. Under Rule 17 of the Warriors’ Guild Standard Contract, anyone volunteering for single combat during a siege more than a hundred miles from Athens and lasting not less than one year is eligible for triple pay, plus retirement on full salary with payments to be continued after one’s death to female descendants up to and including the third generation. To say nothing of lifetime trireme privileges, and thrice-annual consultations with the Oracle at Delphi.

A pretty package indeed, I said. I may volunteer for single combat myself. But let me ask you, Glaucon, Polemarchus, and you other wise fellows: Who shall pay for all these handsome emoluments, while the wind howls through the emptied Siphnian Treasury?

They murmured among themselves. At length Thrasymachus said, Let us ask the gods. Surely they would not leave us to the mercies of austere Brussels and flighty Euro.

By all means, I said, make your entreaties to Olympus. But remember—Whom the gods would destroy, first they make pensioners at forty.

—
The New York Times
, May 2010

Ali al-Qastani.
Chairman, Iraqi Expatriate Congress. Close to the Pentagon but distrusted by the State Department and the CIA. Deputy Secretary of Defense Paul Wolfowitz’s favorite “good Iraqi,” though privately viewed by others in the Pentagon as a merely okay Iraqi. In a speech to the Council of Terrific Iraqis, al-Qastani called for a “democratic pluralistic Iraq,” administered by himself and members of his immediate family. Did not endear himself to Jordan’s King Abdullah when he challenged him to arm-wrestle during a recent Pan-Arab conference.