Colbert UFW Testimony
Colbert is hilarious as always. Yet, while I’d usually be one of the first to commend his efforts, I’m going to go out on a limb (this phrase never made sense to me, shouldn’t it be a plank?) and say that Colbert’s parodic persona didn’t serve this forum nor the issue at hand that well. The main problem with Colbert’s testimony is that he forgot to use satire in a forum where it was sorely needed. In other words, he forgot to speak truth/s to power. Consequently, Jon Stewart’s more straight-laced, “righteous indignation” would have been a far better choice for the UFW’s campaign. Funny, yes. Satirical, no. It’s the difference between a Jay Leno monologue and the kind of brilliance we saw from Colbert a few years ago at the White House Correspondent’s Dinner speech. Who are the targets in this testimony? In the WHCD speech Colbert focused with an observant precision upon a yay-saying cohort of political and media personalities desperately needing critiqued. In this congressional testimony the targets are all over the place. Take a look at the reactions by the Members of Congress themselves—do they appear all that threatened? Colbert fawns before one Member of Congress at one point and finishes by emphasizing how much of an “honor” it is to be there etc. Don’t get me wrong, a simple, light-hearted laugh at some of these issues can definitely serve an important function, and I certainly don’t think satire needs to be used all the time–but I can’t help but think that outside the orienting walls of his studio, Colbert missed an opportunity for the kind of disorienting, stinging critique for which he’s capable.

I came to Haiti in part to pursue a longstanding interest in studying disasters.  I came to Haiti to continue a longstanding interest in studying disaster.  That interest intensified when Hurricane Katrina slammed into the Gulf Coast five years ago with the eye of the storm coming ashore just East of New Orleans.  The ensuing flood covered 80 percent of the city, including the home where my father had lived since Betsy, the last killer storm to target the area.

I came to Haiti in part to pursue a longstanding interest in studying disasters.  I came to Haiti to continue a longstanding interest in studying disaster.  That interest intensified when Hurricane Katrina slammed into the Gulf Coast five years ago with the eye of the storm coming ashore just East of New Orleans.  The ensuing flood covered 80 percent of the city, including the home where my father had lived since Betsy, the last killer storm to target the area.

Saturday, I went out with a colleague from Sun Mountain and a construction expert from CHF.  The ride out to Corail-Cesselesse was a cross between demolition derby and Formula One race.  Once at the huge displaced persons camp, I was impressed with the enormity of the community, stretching almost from one horizon to another and to the foot of the deforested hills serving as backdrop.

As I got out of the four-wheel drive vehicles, a virtual necessity on the rough roads in and around Port-au-Prince, my Sun Mountain colleague, a Haitian named Sam, greeted me with the words, “Welcome to Hell.”

As we observed the five-year anniversary of Katrina three weeks ago and the nine-month anniversary of the earthquake in Haiti just a little more one ago, I sought to connect the housing issues surrounding Katrina (eviction from destruction of public housing, formaldehyde-laced trailers, uneven neighborhood reconstruction, and Brad Pitt-supported building, often with a green slant) with those I was discovering in Haiti (people living in tents in front of red-marked, unsafe housing, people separated from their neighborhoods in camps in public plazas, the most remote of all, residents of places like Corail, sleeping in half-pipe-Quonset-hut tents to transitional or T-shelters, square houses designed to go up quickly without costing an arm and a leg.)

Time did a story on the displaced persons camps for sixth-month Haiti earthquake anniversary and the New York Times did one on the same topic two days ago with a focus on poignant letters from camp residents to the International Organization for Migration, one of whose vehicles I had ridden in for much of my first week in Haiti.  New Orleans, say hello to your sister city, Port-au-Prince.  Welcome to hell, a place where not enough gets done, at a snail’s pace.  Here’s one of the Corail photos from the Time magazine article.

Saturday, I went out with a colleague from Sun Mountain and a construction expert from CHF.  The ride out to Corail-Cesselesse was a cross between demolition derby and Formula One race.  Once at the huge displaced persons camp, I was impressed with the enormity of the community, stretching almost from one horizon to another and to the foot of the deforested hills serving as backdrop.

As I got out of the four-wheel drive vehicles, a virtual necessity on the rough roads in and around Port-au-Prince, my Sun Mountain colleague, a Haitian named Sam, greeted me with the words, “Welcome to Hell.”

As we observed the five-year anniversary of Katrina three weeks ago and the nine-month anniversary of the earthquake in Haiti just a little more one ago, I sought to connect the housing issues surrounding Katrina (eviction from destruction of public housing, formaldehyde-laced trailers, uneven neighborhood reconstruction, and Brad Pitt-supported building, often with a green slant) with those I was discovering in Haiti (people living in tents in front of red-marked, unsafe housing, people separated from their neighborhoods in camps in public plazas, the most remote of all, residents of places like Corail, sleeping in half-pipe-Quonset-hut tents to transitional or T-shelters, square houses designed to go up quickly without costing an arm and a leg.)

Time did a story on the displaced persons camps for sixth-month Haiti earthquake anniversary and the New York Times did one on the same topic two days ago with a focus on poignant letters from camp residents to the International Organization for Migration, one of whose vehicles I had ridden in for much of my first week in Haiti.  New Orleans, say hello to your sister city, Port-au-Prince.  Welcome to hell, a place where not enough gets done, at a snail’s pace.  Here’s one of the Corail photos from the Time magazine article.

Mad Men is great trainwreck theatre full of those “oh no they didn’t” moments all shot sumptuously like cookbooks with supersaturated colour from that era. Call me a crank, but the female characters in last night’s episode reminded me of lines from Henrik Ibsen plays…

Joan & her less than “Sterling” reputation:: “Oh courage…oh yes! If only one had that…Then life might be livable, in spite of everything.”—Hedda Gabler

Peggy Blue Got Harried {in the Ideological Divide}:: “Whether I pound or am being pounded, all the same there will be moaning!” —Peer Gynt

Dr. Faye “Donning” doormat apparel:: “Your squirrel would run about and do all her tricks if you would be nice, and do what she wants.”—Nora in A Doll’s House

Twitterversion:: [blog] The women of mad men channelled through Henrik Ibsen. https://thesocietypages.org/thickculture/?p=3074  @ThickCulture @Prof_K

{Hat tip:: LinnyQat} Republican strategist Jack Burkman and former NY Senator Al D’Amato, a Republican, went toe-to-toe on Fox Business. Burkman was rehashing arguments about US post office waste, but has a twist. He went after “unskilled Nigerians and Ethiopians” that he claims the US is “importing” and the massive unions protecting them. Burkman also claims that the post offices are used by politicians to plaster their names on them.

While D’Amato is actually for privatization of the post office {and public-private partnerships}, he berated Burkman for bringing national origin into the argument, as opposed to focusing on skills and organizational waste. D’Amato also said that Burkman hurts the cause with his remarks. Another panelist, attorney Tamara Holder, also in favour of privatization, found Burkman’s statements to be out-of-line and racist.

It appears that some libertarians or those with libertarian leanings are having less patience for wrapping economic arguments with jingoistic statements that are cheap ploys at stirring up emotions.

Twitterversion:: [blog] Fmr NY Senator Al D’Amato [R] goes after GOP strategist Jack Burkman for racist characterizations of postal workers. @ThickCulture @Prof_K

Yesterday I got out of the work area Sun Mountain has carved out of the poolside lounge at the Hotel Villa Creole.  Workers from a gamut of organization from the Red Cross on meet, Skype, and make mobile calls around the city and the hemisphere.

The hotel itself, known as HVC by those staying there, carries wounds from the January 12 earthquake and some of the employees live in tents on the grounds.

I went out with Scott, the Sun Mountain director and Hans, one of the team members, to visit a number of organizations, starting with Worldvision, in the process meeting Haitians, Asian Americans, South Asians and Middle Easterners serving as staff.  In some cases, we had appointments and in others we stopped by hoping to catch folks.  Driving around in a vehicle marked IOM, for International Organization for Migration, we saw small SUVs (everyone seemed to be in one) with letters indicating UN (DP or OP),  USAID (US Agency for International Development), CRS (Catholic Relief Services),  CHF (Cooperative Housing Foundation) or the aforementioned Worldvision.

Part of the reason for the trips was for Scott to confirm partnerships for documents being finalized or already completed and also for me to meet some people that I may need to contact for later assignments.

Dinner was structured around discussion of a displaced persons settlement that would incorporate best practices.  The consultation took place mainly between Scott and a representative from the UN supervising the camp development.

Yesterday I got out of the work area Sun Mountain has carved out of the poolside lounge at the Hotel Villa Creole.  Workers from a gamut of organization from the Red Cross on meet, Skype, and make mobile calls around the city and the hemisphere.

The hotel itself, known as HVC by those staying there, carries wounds from the January 12 earthquake and some of the employees live in tents on the grounds.

I went out with Scott, the Sun Mountain director and Hans, one of the team members, to visit a number of organizations, starting with Worldvision, in the process meeting Haitians, Asian Americans, South Asians and Middle Easterners serving as staff.  In some cases, we had appointments and in others we stopped by hoping to catch folks.  Driving around in a vehicle marked IOM, for International Organization for Migration, we saw small SUVs (everyone seemed to be in one) with letters indicating UN (DP or OP),  USAID (US Agency for International Development), CRS (Catholic Relief Services),  CHF (Cooperative Housing Foundation) or the aforementioned Worldvision.

Part of the reason for the trips was for Scott to confirm partnerships for documents being finalized or already completed and also for me to meet some people that I may need to contact for later assignments.

Dinner was structured around discussion of a displaced persons settlement that would incorporate best practices.  The consultation took place mainly between Scott and a representative from the UN supervising the camp development.

I started the day by descending the hill to the market from the “compound” (my term for the dwellings behind a very large gate that shelter four households).  My companion was a freelance journalist who was on a mission to find breakfast (le petit dejeuner in French, kolasyon or dejne in Creole)  for his significant other and himself.  He’s done work for Free Speech Radio.  On the way Ansel asked me if I had been to Haiti before.  I told him how I had almost bracketed Haiti in travels to Santiago and Guantanamo in Eastern Cuba and to Puerto Rico.

Here’s the view from the roof of my apartment building:

  In contrast to the idyllic scene with the sea in the distance, tableaux of dezas, or disaster, begin practically right outside the gate of the compound:

I took my leave of Ansel to start my first run in Haiti.  It’s impossible to avoid hills in my neighborhood and it was also impossible to think of the myth of Sisyphus and the Haitian people and the Creole saying I recently read that goes, “Deye mon, gen mon,” “after the mountains, more mountains.”  Do I need to stress the point that pushing boulders uphill can get tiring?  My run chock full of hills was nothing.

Tonight,  I’ve been listening to snippets fo conversations between an NPR reporter and a guest at his table.  On a day of running in the ruins, the media representatives are almost as prevalent in Port-au-Prince as the aid organizations.  More in the next blog.