Sachin Tendulkar's Milestone

Three hundred and sixty nine agonizing days after scoring his last century, Indian cricketer Sachin Tendulkar scored his 100th. He is now the sole owner of 100 100's (51 Test, 49 ODI). That the Little Master's milestone came in a losing cause (Bangladesh defeated India in the Asia Cup ODI by 5 wickets, with 4 balls remaining, at Mirpur, in Dhaka) will probably be forgotten when the achievement is placed in its proper context. This is bound to be a record for the ages. Tendulkar's nearest competitor is the veteran Australian Ricky Ponting with 79 centuries (41, 30). It is almost a certainty that Ponting will not play long enough to score another 21 centuries.

Tendulkar scored his first hundred against England at Old Trafford on August 14, 1990, at the age of 17. He scored his 100th on March 16, 2012, at the age of 38. As of today, he has played in 188 Test matches (311 innings) and 462 ODIs (451 innings) for a total of 650 matches, and has scored more runs than anyone in both the 5-day (15,470) and 1-day (18,374) versions of the game. He was also the first to score a double-century in an ODI test. His sheer professional longevity of 22 years and counting is a testimony to his greatness as a cricketer.

Is there any comparable, untouchable record?

As I see it, there are two.

The first is Australian Donald Bradman's cricket test average of 99.94. The record has stood since 1948. No one has come close and it is safe to say that no one will. Yes, records are meant to be broken, as the cliche goes, but it is inconceivable that one like this will ever be.

The second belongs to the 7-foot-1 basketball player Wilt Chamberlain who scored 100 points on March 2, 1962, playing for the Philadelphia Warriors against the New York Knicks. It was beyond sensational, beyond belief. Kobe Bryant of the Lakers came closest with his 81 points in 2006 but Bryant had the advantage of the 3-point field goals, unknown in Chamberlain's time.

64 years and counting for Bradman's record, 50 years for Chamberlain's. Shall we give at least 50 years to Tendulkar's?

Starry Sky, Life and Death

It's a magnificent sight, the evening sky now. In the West, the irrepressible 'evening star' Venus glows with such luminosity that you want to extend your hand and touch it. Above it is Jupiter, not as bright but compelling nonetheless. Overhead, the moon is swelling as it moves eastward toward the Diablo Range. But the eastern sky belongs to Mars with its twinkling reddish hue. In the north, the two pointers of the Big Dipper are oriented up and you can easily trace their line to locate the Polaris to the left.

Last week, on February 24, the crescent moon was below Venus and just above the western horizon. The next night it had moved between Venus and Jupiter, forming an almost perfect right-angle triangle. (Pythagorean Theorem, anyone?) The next two days brought much-needed rain to the Santa Clara Valley and clouds covered the sky. A night later, the moon had moved past Jupiter near Orion. The pink plum-cherry blossom have been out in profusion along the quiet avenues and appear like snowflakes in reflected light as you look up to drink in the beauty above.

But tonight the moon has gone far past Orion. In two nights or so, the full moon will rise big and yellow-orange above the hills and one will be overwhelmed by the ineffable beauty of the March sky.

What is it about the sky, particularly when it is so star-studded, that compels us to consider other perspectives? What exactly are we after in life? Fame, glory, wealth, happiness? Does it really matter, after we have reached a certain level of satiety, to add more? Is it worth it, this relentless pursuit of more? Does it in any way enhance our insignificance?

A dear aunt passed away a month ago and I just heard that uncle (they were married for 50 years) has died today, in the same hospital, in the same ICU unit. Both of them refused medications and the experiments that doctors wanted to run on them. They were determined to leave this life with dignity and they did, surrounded only by their loved ones. No tubes, no surgeries, no medical intrusions into the sacred. Both accepted death with uncommon grace and I cannot but think that uncle has left to join his beloved. If he could look at the sky last night, the final night of his life, I think he would have known more than ever before in his heart that love transcends all.

The seasons come and go and the earth renews itself with rain and becomes brown again, and the ancient cycle continues. The old move on and their grandchildren grow up. Someone departs, someone arrives. For all our striving and advances, the sum of human joys and sorrows remain more or less constant across centuries. The planets and the stars swim along in their orbits, unhurried and unchanging, reminding us only of those things that matter, if we take the time to see and listen.

Caring for Cats on Campus

It was love at first sight for Cathy Kost and David Eisenberg. The three feral kittens had appeared outside their offices at Evergreen Valley College (EVC) seemingly out of nowhere. The kittens looked vulnerable, in desperate need of some tender loving care. Cathy and David immediately adopted the kittens and named them Misha, Jasper and Rocket. That was ten years ago.

Now Cathy and David look after a colony of a dozen feral cats on the Evergreen campus. Over the years, the two long-term EVC employees gave away several cats for adoption, mostly to faculty and students.

They unfailingly feed the cats every day at 7:30 AM and at noon. “As soon as they hear my truck coming down the hill.” says Cathy, an administrative assistant in the Language Arts department, “my feline charges line up, meowing excitedly for their first meal of the day.”

She and David, a professor in the Computer Instructional Technology department, come to the campus every weekend as well. “We can’t let them go hungry on Saturdays and Sundays!” They have been buying bulk cat food out of their own pockets for a decade now.

“They are feral but they are also tame,” says David. “Cathy and I can pet them but most other people cannot. They know us as family.”

The cats rest and sleep in empty spaces under the buildings and in the hills around the campus. “They obviously know how to take care of themselves,” says Cathy, “because when I come every morning, they are fresh and ready for the day!” Several cat food bowls line the side of a building that has been cleared of vegetation just for the cats.

Cathy and David take under their wings any cat that people dump in the campus. A custodian once brought over a cat he found in a garbage can. David has rescued several abandoned kittens from in front of the school gym and some from outside the campus as well. The two employees have also trapped a few of the cats.

They also neuter the cats. Sometimes they put a few up for adoption on Craigslist and give them away only after being convinced that the potential owners are genuine cat-lovers who will give them a safe and nice home. They once gave a cat to a teacher’s sister who was battling cancer and who needed to care for a living while she underwent treatments.

“The cats are good for the campus,” says Cathy. “Right now, a company called Sunpower is installing solar panels in the surrounding fields. When they first dug up the ground, rats, mice and gophers invaded the campus. Were it not for the cats, we would have had rodents all over the place, in classrooms, offices, libraries, just about everywhere. These cats can hunt real well. Thanks to them, we have a rodent-free campus!”

It is said that the best way to express gratitude for life is by selflessly caring for other living beings. Cathy and David have been caring for feral and abandoned cats at the EVC campus for a decade now. They do it quietly and with love, in spite of their busy schedules. If you are feeling down, if it seems that the whole world is turning against you and you are about to give up your faith in humanity, come and see Cathy and David feeding some happy cats.

An Iranian Masterpiece

If you are looking for a breather from the daily grinds of life and want to lose yourself in a light fare of romance and laughter, steer clear of this movie. But if you want to witness an unflinching look at life in all its pathos and ambiguities, in which faith, loyalty, family values, traditional culture and class distinctions clash in a draining suspense worthy of both Hitchcock and John le Carre, then go see the Iranian masterpiece called “A Separation.”

Director Asghar Farhadi’s movie should win the Best Foreign Language Oscar this year. If not, we can conclude that something is seriously wrong with the Academy. The film has gained worldwide acclaim since its release in 2011 and has been racking up awards at film festivals, most recently the Golden Globe.

But award or no award, this is a superbly-crafted film that deals intelligently and unsparingly with the big questions of life. It pulls no punches. We are gripped by the emotional conflicts of the actors because we realize with a shock that these are our conflicts as well, in one form or another.

Nader (Peyman Maadi) is resisting divorce from his wife Simin (Leila Hatami) because she wants to migrate to a foreign land and he does not. He cannot bear the thought of abandoning his Alzheimer-stricken father (Ali-Asghar Shahbazi). The custody of the couple’s 11-year old daughter Termeh (Sarina Farhadi, the director’s daughter) is the bone of contention. It is unresolved at this point but Termeh decides to stay with her father when her mother moves in with her parents.

Nader has to find a caretaker for his headstrong but helpless father in a hurry. At his wife’s urging, he hires Razieh (Sareh Bayat), a chador-clad religious working-class woman. Razieh has problems of her own. She has to care for a young daughter. She has a psychopathic husband, Hodjat (Shahab Hosseini, to deal with. She has to travel a considerable distance by bus to reach Nader’s apartment, a perilous daily undertaking considering that she is pregnant (not known to the protagonists at the outset). She has to lie to her husband about the job because he would not approve of her caring for another man, even if he is over 80. But most of all, looking after an incontinent man turns out to be a nightmare, especially since Nader’s father has a habit of wandering off from the apartment when she is mopping floors or preparing food.

In this combustible mix, things can explode for any number of social, cultural or religious reasons, and they all do. Nader comes home one day in the very first week to find his father unconscious, his hands tied to the bed. Razieh is nowhere to be found. When she does show up, bedlam ensues. A crime of some kind is committed, although we are not sure who actually committed it. Nader finds himself in a court battle with Razieh and her husband, and soon his wife, daughter and neighbors are dragged into it as well. The autocratic and impassive judge infuriates both parties as he oscillates between indifference and high-handedness.

The key event on which the entire movie pivots is never shown, even in flashback. This is Asghar Farhadi’s masterstroke. By visually withholding what really happened (it is only revealed in a few words near the climax), he heightens the tension and achieves a shattering effect. I will not be giving away anything if I paraphrase what Nader says to Razieh as the two families are on the brink of working out a settlement: “Can you swear by the Quran that I am responsible for what happened to you?”

Razieh is unable to do so because, as a believer, she feels that if she lies and commits a sin, it will cast a shadow on her daughter.

A happy ending thus slips away. And when Termeh has to finally decide before a judge who she wants to live with – mom or dad – we see the parents waiting outside in the corridor, separated by a glass door, lost in their private agonies. The ending seems incomplete, similar to the ending in that famous 1882 short story by Frank Stockton called “The Lady, or the Tiger?” But in leaving us with a question, director Farhjadi has in reality made his movie complete, for in the moral universe that we inhabit, heartbreak occurs not from having to choose between right and wrong but between two equally compelling rights.

Muhammad Ali Turns 70

Muhammad Ali turns 70 today. Happy Birthday, Greatest of All Time!

Time and Parkinson's may have slowed the champ down but his story continues to inspire millions around the world. Some of Ali's feats came from inside the ring but the reason why his story resonates is because of what he did outside. He spoke out against the Vietnam War and became a catalyst for young Americans to take a firm stand against that distant and futile adventure. He rejected the Jim Crow mentality of his country in the '60s with an audacity that was breathtaking and moving. He gave underdogs, particularly African-Americans, the courage to take charge of their destiny. He spoke truth to power long before politicians turned the phrase into a platitude. The boldness to go from Cassisus Clay to Muhammad Ali alone would have moved mountains.

Ali did all this and more but he faltered several times as well. He was sometimes cruel and mean toward his opponents (Floyd Patterson, Joe Frazier). He was callous toward his wife Belinda. He had extra-marital affairs.

Ali acknowledges his failings and that's what allows him to move forward. He was not one to hold grudge against anyone, including himself. He looked in the mirror and saw not only how pretty he was, as he was fond of reminding us, but also how flawed. He touched us with his humanity.

"These are the cards I was dealt, so don't be sad," he often tells his wife and children as they struggle to reconcile with his condition. He has found a serenity in his faith - Islam - that steadies him and fills him with gratitude for having come this far.

Ali never turned down a request for an autograph. He visited the sick whenever he could, persuaded a man about to commit suicide to choose life, and raised millions of dollars for charitable causes. His sense of humor and raw intelligence and, of course, his unparalleled ability to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee made him one of the most beloved icons of our time.

"I'd rather suffer now than in the hereafter," Ali says when people tell him how sorry they are about his Parkinson's. A champion all the way.

The Last Book of Christopher Hitchens

The last published book of Christopher Hitchens, who died on 15 December, 2011 at age 62, is titled "Arguably." It is a collection of his previously-published essays, a fitting coda to a polemicist and a literary polymath. You don't have to agree with Hitchens, and there was much to disagree about - his support of the Iraq War, for instance - to recognize that his opinions were provocative, well-argued and always a great read. "Boring" is a word you will never associate with anything Hitchens wrote.

I read some of the essays in "Arguably" when they were first published in The Atlantic, Vanity Fair and the online magazine Slate. But what I found remarkable in the book is the content of the dedication page: "To the memory of Mohamed Bouazizi, Abu-Abdel Monaam Hamadeh, and Ali Mehdi Zeu."

Unless you were living in the woods as a hermit for the past two years, at least the first name - Mohamed Bouazizi - should ring a bell. He was the Tunisian vendor who set himself afire and launched the Arab Spring last year. But the others?

Well, here is Hitchens: "The three names on the dedication page belonged to a Tunisian street vendor, an Egyptian restaurateur, and a Libyan husband and father. In the Spring of 2011, the first of them set himself alight in the town of Sidi Bouzid, in protest at just one too many humiliations at the hands of petty officialdom. The second also took his own life as Egyptians began to rebel en masse at the stagnation and meaninglessness of Mubarak's Egypt. The third, it might be said, gave his life as well as took it: loading up his modest car with petrol and homemade explosives and blasting open the gate of the Katiba barracks in Benghazi - symbolic Bastille of the detested and demented Qadafi regime in Libya."

Why did Hitchens dedicate his last book to three Muslims who became known only after their death? Because, "in preferring a life-affirming death to a living death-in-life, the harbinger of the Arab Spring hoped to galvanize their fellow subjects and make them aspire to be citizens. Tides will ebb, waves will recede, the landscape will turn brown and dusty again, but nothing can expel from the Arab mind the example and esprit of Tahrir. Once again it is demonstrated that people do not love their chains or their jailers ..."

The faith of the three, Islam, was, of course, of no significance to Hitchens whatsoever. He railed against religion all his life and even wrote a best-seller reveling in his unfaith. What moved Hitchens was obviously the extraordinary courage of three nameless and faceless citizens who answered the calls of their conscience, a rarity at any time and in any age. For Hitchens, if anything could move mountains, this was it.

I always read Hitchens expecting to be provoked and entertained by his though as well as by his use of the language, and I was never disappointed. In fact, his polemical writings against religion, and, in particular, against Islam, only strengthened my faith because he forced me to dig deep and find answers to his charges and attacks with reason, study and yes, belief in the Unseen.

There is a silly tendency to anoint people with this or that title after they pass away. "He was the best essayist of his generation," was a refrain we heard after Hitchens' death. It really doesn't matter whether or not he was the best essayist, or whether that title belongs to Gore Vidal or to someone else. The point is that Hitchens brought a fresh point of view to everything he wrote, even when he was wrong, and in doing so, he always strove to fulfil the primary responsibility of a writer: provoke, excite, entertain, and expand the scope of readers while skewering the tyrants, the corrupt and the powerful, without pandering to anyone or to any ideology.

Steve Jobs, Technology and Education

The late Steve Jobs of Apple was not smart in the conventional sense. Instead, as his biographer Walter Isaacson tells us in the bestseller “Steve Jobs,” he was a genius. “His imaginative leaps were instinctive, unexpected, and at times magical.”

One of the toughest problems America faces today is in education. Assessing the impact of technology in raising the quality of K-14 education has become a particularly thorny issue, considering that the future of the nation, and billions of dollars, are at stake

It is instructive to consider Jobs’ view on this. Unique among his peers, he positioned himself at the intersection of science and humanities and showed time and again that his gut feeling – intuition – was right in the products he envisioned and helped create.

Jobs didn’t think of technology as the silver bullet of education. As Isaacson points out, he was “somewhat dismissive of the idea that technology could transform education.” The ability to focus, think through problems and solve them requires patience, perseverance and hard work, qualities that technology is unlikely to foster.

Microsoft’s Bill Gates, on the other hand, and with whom Jobs had a contentious professional relationship, has more faith in the power of technology to transform education. His foundation has spent billions of dollars equipping classrooms across the country with state-of-the-art technology. As Gates sees it, it is a crucial innovation to use interactive technology to deliver high-quality materials for teachers and students. He feels that software can be used to tailor lessons for individual students so that they do not waste time on the things they already know and focus on areas they do not. “That's the kind of innovation that can lead to a brighter future for everyone,” says Gates.

Well, we have had over a decade of technology in classrooms – laptops, big interactive screens, software – in school districts from California and Arizona to New York and Maine. Analysis of the vast amount of data collected shows that, so far at least, Jobs’ view is holding out. Despite the extensive presence of technology in the school curricula, test scores remain stubbornly stagnant in reading, math and science.

In contrast, consider the successful Waldorf School in Los Altos, California, in the heart of Silicon Valley. The school, attended by children of local high-tech executives, operates on the principle that computers and schools don’t mix. Computers, according to the school, constrain creative thinking, reduce human interaction and play havoc with attention spans. Students and their parents couldn’t be more in sync with the Waldorf objectives.

This, of course, does not mean that technology will disappear from the nation’s classrooms. If anything, there will be even more technology in the future. The Waldorf is probably an exception. What it does mean, however, is that we haven’t yet found the best way to use technology to take education to a higher level.

There was one area in education where Jobs had strong feelings. He wanted to blow away the harmful and monopolistic textbook business through digital learning materials. As Isaacson writes, the “textbook industry was $8 billion a year, ripe for digital destruction. That was the next business he wanted to transform. His method was iPad. He wanted to hire great textbook writers to create digital versions, and make them a feature of the iPad.” Jobs’ clearly saw that “the
process by which states certify textbooks is corrupt. But if we can make textbooks free, and they come with this iPad, then they don’t have to be certified.” What was left unsaid was that the relief it would provide to students – mental, financial, physical – would be incalculable.

A cynic might suggest that Jobs’ real goal was to make the iPad ubiquitous in the nation’s classrooms, like other Apple products. But they would be missing the point. Jobs understood that creating new textbooks by world-class authors offered the best chance to free the nation’s students from the unethical and destructive practices of textbook publishers. In spite of earnest recommendations by well-meaning educators, the textbook industry continues to become even more powerful and monopolistic. The digital versions of their bloated and confusing textbooks are offered mostly as options, adding to the already sky-high cost of education. Jobs had the right vision. Recall how he converted music exceutives to his point of view and what he did for music with the iPod. So, for textbooks, if the iPad was his preferred medium of delivery, in all fairness, could anyone object to that?

One wonders if Apple has leaders as bold, brash and intuitive as Jobs was, leaders who can “think different” and launch projects to turn America’s moribund school system around. If not, high-tech companies specializing in so-called “educational technology” will clean up on the billions of educational dollars available through federal grants and private foundations without making any difference whatsoever, even as thousands of teachers are laid off and school budgets shrink to disastrous levels

The Tyranny of Limited Release

As a movie buff, I have often chafed at the tyranny of limited release of certain movies. Until now I have suffered in silence but no more. I call upon all my fellow cinema-goers not living in New York and Los Angeles (always the only two cities where "limited release" movies are first , well, released) to rise in mass protest at this archaic, humiliating and downright stupid practice by studio honchos and their evil marketers.

My outrage has boiled over because I have to wait two more weeks before I can see "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" in San Jose, California, the soul of Silicon Valley.

Who decides which cities to release cerebral, unconventional movies first? There is absolutely no data to suggest that New Yorkers and Angelenos are among the most discerning of moviegoers. Nor is there any proof that, financially (the only criterion that matters to film producers and distributors), New York and Los Angeles represent the best markets. Yet this practice of limited release continues as if it is an infallible pillar of our democracy!

What I find most infuriating is the biting, insulting, condescending tag attached to a limited release movie: "Wider Release to Follow." Oh really? Thanks a lot for letting us know. We bumpkins should be grateful that our chance will come only after the sophisticates of New York and Los Angeles have had a chance to view the movie and discuss its merits and demerits casually over coffee.

Here is the "limited release" schedule for le Carre's thriller: "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy opens this week (December 9) in New York and Los Angeles; Dec. 16 in Boston, Chicago, San Francisco and Washington; and Dec. 23 in Dallas, Denver, Minneapolis, Philadelphia, Phoenix, Portland, Ore., St. Louis, San Diego, San Jose, Calif., Seattle and Austin, Texas, with wider release to follow."

I saw the magnificent BBC production of "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy" in 1979. I watched it with my newlywed wife who had no stomach for thrillers but who fell in love with this one. George Smiley is as unforgettable in his way as Sherlock Holmes was when I discovered the genius of 221B Baker Street as a kid. I think le Carre is the supreme practitioner in his field. His portrayal of the dark and brutal underpinnings of the cold war is without parallel. Hence my infinite interest in seeing this remake of his masterpiece three decades later.

What brought me to my bursting point was le Carre's own take on the movie: "Once in a lifetime, if a novelist is very lucky, he gets a movie made of one of his books that has its own life and truth. This is the achievement of Tomas Alfredson and his team. Yet I have been asked if an American audience — accustomed to the speed and dash of most movie-making today — will have the concentration span needed to follow an intelligently paced narrative of some complexity? I believe that audiences are far better at doing this than film-makers give them credit for. This is a movie that entertains superbly and thrillingly at its own pace and rhythm — a hypnotic movie that takes you over completely. I don’t believe that any audience, once introduced to it, will be able to take its eyes off the screen.In profound ways, it is touching and often alarming. In less profound ways, it is exciting and occasionally very funny. Its complexities are a pleasure to share, and the more so since the movie gently explains them and delivers a satisfying dénouement.It is a work of art that stays with you, as good works of art do."

Can any movie buff remain still after this? Can you blame me, or any of my fellow sufferers in Silicon Valley, if we were to march down Main Street in protest at this outrageous injustice, this injustice of having to wait for two more weeks to see "TTSP" in our beloved San Jose?

"Why don't you go to San Francisco next week," you may say, "or even to Los Angeles for today's viewing, if you are such an aficionado? People drive to LA every day!"

We will do no such thing as a matter of principle. We will see movies in our own town and in no other. Going to see movies in other cities because it is not available in ours is the hallmark of an unfaithful and shallow human being.

But the producers and the distributors of movies have to shape up, and they better shape up quickly. We will launch mass movements if the tyranny of "limited release" is not lifted before the end of 2011. That's a promise.

Joe Frazier (1944-2011)

I remember the "Fight of the Century" vividly not because it was the most anticipated bout in boxing history until then but because I (along with another 70 million people) was in existential danger. The date was March 9, 1971 (March 8 in New York). The Pakistani army had put a stranglehold on East Pakistan, later to become Bangladesh. There were aerial bombardments day and night and the Pakistani army would soon launch a genocide against unarmed Bangladeshis. I had taken shelter in a friend's house on that day but in spite of the danger around me, I was listening intently to the BBC's running commentary on an epic battle taking place in distant New York.

My hero, Muhammad Ali, was fighting the pretender to the throne, a ferocious fighter named Joe Frazier. I had no doubt that Ali would win. How could this fearless pugilist, who had galvanized the world's downtrodden and the oppressed and who spoke truth to power so boldly, lose?

But the unthinkable happened. Ali lost. With his relentless attack, Frazier had apparently worn Ali down. I carried the hurt with me for several days until the genocide by the Pakistani army made everything else insignificant.

Bangaldesh had become an independent nation in December of 1971. In August of 1974, I found myself in Philadelphia as a graduate student at Temple University. By then, I had seen the "fight of the century" dozens of times on TV. One day, on a lark, I called up Frazier's gym in North Philly. Frazier was preparing for a fight (I think it was with Joe Bugner) and the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that his sparring sessions were open to the public. I wanted to see him in action. An assistant answered and gave me the time of the session.

I took the subway and suddenly there was the man himself, throwing punches at his sparring partners. In person, he looked rather small but there was no mistaking his intent, which was to tear off his opponent's head. The ring looked too small to contain his ferocity.

After the sessions, Frazier was all smiles and mingled with the onlookers. I remember the scene after all these years.

Ali and Frazier fought two more times, including the classic "Thrilla in Manila", and Ali avenged himself by winning both times.

Boxing fans knew that if Frazier ran into a bigger version of himself, he would be defeated. That's what happened with George Foreman who punished him mercilessly in their two bouts, although Frazier gave a better account of himself in the second bout than in the first.

Frazier nursed the psychological hurt that Ali inflicted on him and apparently took the hurt to his grave. That's unfortunate. On learning of his nemesis's death, Ali said, “The world has lost a great champion. I will always remember Joe with respect and admiration.”

It would have been wonderful if Ali and Frazier had reconciled in public. Both brought out the best boxing skills in each other and both helped each other reach the summit of pugilistic excellence. But a correction is in order in the wake of all the glorification of Frazier now that he has moved on. Contrary to what some sports writers are saying or have said, Ali was the better boxer but even more importantly, the better human being. If we are defined by the challenges we take on in life, there just is no comparison. That in no way diminishes the fundamental goodness of Frazier.

Rest in peace, Joe.

The Arab World After Gadhafi

The flag of freedom flies high across Libya today. After only eight months, Libyan fighters liberated their country from Moammar Gadhafi, a tyrant who had waged war against his people for more than four decades.

Celebrations have rightly broken out in the public squares and plazas of Libya, but this happiness must be tempered by the momentous tasks that lie ahead for the Transitional National Council and for Libyans themselves. It will not be easy to build a just and tolerant society overnight in a country that did not experience the rule of law for 42 years. But the march must begin, even if the journey is long and arduous.

What happens in Libya has profound implications for an Arab world in flux. If Libyans can lay the foundation of an open and democratic society within the context of their tradition and renounce retribution in favor of rebuilding, neighboring Arab countries can rid themselves of their dinosaurs as well and move confidently toward an enlightened future. There will undoubtedly be mistakes and setbacks. Tribal animosities may flare. (The recent massacre of Egyptian Christians shows how horribly things can go wrong). But if the national council can forge a representative government, there is no limit to what the long-suffering Arab people can accomplish.

In a country of only 6 million, Libya was earning hundreds of millions of dollars from 1.6 million barrels of oil a day. But Gadhafi squandered it all. While the masses lived on crumbs, he lavished wealth and patronage on himself, his family and his sycophants, even as he stirred up trouble abroad. He had his gaudy uniforms, for instance, tailored in Paris. He justified these excesses by making his inane “The Green Book” the de facto constitution of Libya. Under his dictatorship, Libyans, with 0.27 barrels of oil per citizen per day, became poorer on the average than Mexicans, while the average Emirati (UAE), on 0.34 barrels of oil per citizen per day, became richer than the average American.

But that is now past. If Libyan leaders can quickly repair damages to the pipelines and ramp up oil production, it is estimated that the country can start earning as much as $80 million per day at today’s price. It will ease the way toward economic justice for ordinary Libyans. The government will need billions of dollars to steer their country toward the modern age but it has to be cautious because the vultures are already circling.

While Libya scrambles to put its political and economic houses in order, Arabs beyond Libya are rejoicing as well.

One Arab leader, in particular, has been put on notice: Syria’s Bashar Assad. This dictator has been receiving master lessons from Gadhafi on how to put down mass uprisings. Now that his hero has been dispatched after being dragged from a rat hole, Assad must be wondering about his own fate. He, along with Yemen’s Ali Abdullah Saleh, knows that tyrannies are doomed, that hereditary power is history. Syrians and Yemenis are emboldened by the feat of the Libyans and will go all out to overthrow their despots, despite the terrible sacrifices they will undoubtedly have to make.

The larger issue is one of a renaissance in the Arab world. In a sense, the entire Arab world has been caught in a knowledge time-warp for decades. Despite earning trillions of petro-dollars, there has been no world-class discovery or invention from this part of the world in recent times due to bad governance, misplaced priorities and politicized religion. Yet we know that the Golden Age of the Arabs from the 9th through the 13th centuries brought about major advances in mathematics, science, and medicine. Muslim scientists invented algebra, explained principles of optics, demonstrated the body's circulation of blood, named stars, built observatories and created universities.

The situation today? Here is one grim statistics: the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), with 57 member states, claims only 8.5 scientists, engineers, and technicians per 1000 population, compared with a world average of 40.7, and 139.3 for countries of the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD).

It is possible that as freedom flowers and representative governments take shape in these countries, a new generation of young people will rise to meet the challenges of the 21st century in science, art and technology.

The Gadhafis and the Assads of the world pour poison on the aspirations of their people. They keep them chained to the dark impulses of the soul. As equality, justice, dignity and freedom blossom among Arabs, can a renaissance be far behind?

Thoreau and the "Occupy Wall Street" Movement

What would Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) make of the “Occupy Wall Street” (OWS) movement now sweeping America and the world?

Based on how he lived and what he wrote, it is likely that the author of Civil Disobedience (1849), whose words inspired Tolstoy, Gandhi and Martin Luther King, would throw his full support behind it.

Thoreau defended John Brown when the abolitionist seized a federal armory in 1859 to arm slaves to rise against the South. He built his own cabin by Walden Pond without borrowing a cent from the bank. He had observed how the crushing burden of mortgages robbed his neighbors of their economic freedom. “When the farmer has got his house,” he wrote in Walden, “he may not be the richer but the poorer for it, and it be the house that has got him.”

If Thoreau were to review the “State of the Union,” these are some of the grim statistics he would encounter in America today:

- The richest 1 percent (the One Percenters) take home almost 25% of the national income, which represents a more unequal wealth distribution than most of the world’s banana republics.

- From 1980 to 2005, more than 80% of the total increase in incomes went to the One Percenters. They now have more net worth (34%) than the bottom 90 percent (29%), according to figures compiled by the Economic Policy Institute in Washington.

- According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, over 14 million Americans (9.1%) are unemployed as of September 2011. (This does not include the significant number of Americans who have given up looking for jobs, particularly those over 50). About as many Americans are working only part-time because they are unable to find full-time work.

- 46.2 million Americans are living in poverty, the most in more than 50 years. Foreclosures and bankruptcies are at an all-time high. Over 50 million Americans do not have any medical insurance.

- The CEOs of the largest American companies earn an average of more than 500 times as much as the average worker.

In New York, the epicenter of the OWS protest, the wealth of the One Percenters derives almost entirely from the sector known primarily for its “financial innovation.” These “innovators” work in Wall Street, commercial and investment banks, hedge funds and credit card and insurance companies. They create nothing. Instead, they claim to create “value” by speculating with others’ money, be it in mortgages, car loans, credit card debt, gas and food prices, always hedging the bets so that they end up with piles of cash whether society wins (rarely) or loses (almost always).

Thoreau would find that in the America of today, the One Percenters control the rest of the population, the Ninetynine Percenters, through economic and political hegemony. He would find that our government has become a government of the One Percenters, by the One Percenters, and for the One Percenters. He would be deeply disappointed with President Obama who promised to clean up the economic disaster he inherited from George Bush. Obama vowed to be an agent of change, a beacon of hope. Instead, he coddled those responsible for the meltdown - bankers, hedge fund operators, reckless speculators and other assorted wealthy sociopaths - and bailed them out with billions of dollars of taxpayers’ money, while turning a blind eye to their uninterrupted multi-million dollar quarterly bonuses.

But Thoreau would also be heartened by the sight of his moral descendants taking a stand. What began as a small gathering by a handful of New Yorkers on September 17 has spread not only coast to coast but beyond, including cities like Rome, London, Paris, Frankfurt, Madrid, Sydney and Tokyo. Like the Arab Spring, this grassroots movement has no leaders, heroes or ideologues, only ordinary citizens bound by a fierce desire to right the terrifying inequity that threatens that most fundamental of rights, our freedom.

Seeing the resolve of protesters growing by the day, Thoreau would reconsider deleting from Walden, circa 2011, his biting observation that the “mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Occupy Wall Street movement is drawing the “mass of men” into an ever-widening circle of passionate activism. Yes, the movement grew from the desperation of intolerable injustice but now it has acquired a momentum that transcends desperation, charging the national and international discourse with timeless ideas of equality, fairness and justice.

“We are the 99” is a banner that Henry David Thoreau would have been proud to unfurl on Main Street, America, for the world to behold and act upon.

A Persistent and Visionary Entrepreneur

No one realized the confluence of technology, entertainment and design in digital products and transformed them into objects of desire more than Steve Jobs. The co-founder of Apple, who passed away at 56 from pancreatic cancer, will be remembered for his seminal contributions to technology with such products and entities as the Macintosh (1984), Pixar (1986), iMac (1998), Mac OS X (2000), iPod (2001), iTunes Store (2003), iPhone (2007), MacBook Air (2008), and iPad (2010). The list is long and unique and sets him apart from other tech innovators who were lucky to hit the bull’s eye with one or two products.

In technology, Jobs believed in revolution, not evolution. His obsession with the look and feel of a product down to the last excruciating detail often rubbed his underlings and executives the wrong way. He could be cruel with criticism and brutal in his appraisal of others. But in the end, everyone who worked for him and was influenced by him became his fierce acolytes. When relentless excellence is the goal, walking on eggshells is not a priority.

Jobs was an anomaly in that he extolled the value of a liberal arts education when only STEM subjects (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math) were (and are) held up as the gateway to employability. Before dropping out of college at 17, the only course he found satisfying was one on calligraphy, an experience he later used in creating graceful fonts for the Macintosh.

Jobs was neither a software nor a hardware engineer but he was the quintessential catalyst who made the whole greater than the sum of its parts. He created products from the user’s perspective, not the geek’s or the executive’s. The mouse, the user interface, the built-in network, the playful and friendly computers, these innovations and more were designed with you and me in mind. He made the computer truly personal.

All these raise an intriguing question: Where did this unique synthesis of art and science come from? Perhaps the clue lies in genealogy, although the story is suffused with sadness.

Steven Paul Jobs was born out of wedlock to a 23-year-old Syrian Muslim immigrant from Wisconsin named Abdul Fattah Jandali and his 23-year-old German-American girlfriend named Joanne Schieble. In the conservative America of 1955, the baby didn’t stand a chance of growing up with his biological parents, particularly considering that his mother came from an ultra-orthodox Christian family.

Joanne Schieble couldn’t convince her parents of marrying an Arab Muslim and so moved to liberal San Francisco. Although the couple formally married later, Joanne put up the baby for adoption without letting Jandali know about it.

The Arab-American boy was adopted by an American-Armenian family in the San Francisco Bay Area. Clara Hagopian and her husband Paul Jobs had been married for seven years. She was incapable of conceiving, so the couple eagerly adopted the baby who was to change the world in unimaginable ways.

Jobs never showed any interest in knowing his biological father. In August of 2011, Jandali, now 80 and a vice-president of a Casino in Reno, Nevada, (he has said that he is not a practicing Muslim but that he is proud of his Islamic heritage) publicly reached out to his son, saying, “I live in the hope that before it is too late he will reach out to me. Even to have just one cup of coffee with him just once will make me a very happy man.”

While there was no reconciliation, is it not possible that the confluence of the East and the West played a decisive role in shaping Jobs into who he was? The keen eye for aesthetics, the flair for technology, the uncanny ability to sense the potential in people and mold them into a never-ending source of creativity, probably came from this mix of two distinct bloodstreams.

Technology has a way of making today’s hottest products obsolete tomorrow. A new Jobs may appear out of the blue to create products that make the iPhones and the iPads look positively arcane.

But even if the digital revolution that Jobs spawned is supplanted by another, there is something else that he produced, or rather wrote, that I believe will stand the test of time. It is the commencement speech that he delivered at Stanford University in 2005.

It is among the most stirring and inspiring addresses ever, dealing with the fragility of life, the power of persistence, the elixir of creativity, and the inevitability of death. Everyone I know who has read it has been profoundly moved by it and resolved to make something of their lives.

“Your time is limited,” he said in conclusion in that address, “so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinion drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Steve Jobs lived his own life. He moved confidently in the direction of his dreams and passions, relentlessly focused on his goals while never letting failures (and he had quite a few) daunt him. There are lessons in it for all.

A Perspective on the 9/11 Attacks

A week after the 9/11 attacks in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania, my doorbell rang one evening. Gail, my neighbor and a devout Christian, stood apologetically, sorrow etched on her face. “I brought this for you,” she said. It was a miniature marble mosque with a golden dome. “I searched all over the Internet for it. Just wanted you to know we are with you and your family.”

I knew instantly where she was coming from. American Muslims were under siege. That’s how it felt in the immediate wake of the fall of the twin towers. My neighbor was trying to put me at ease. The same scene was playing out all over the country. Concerned neighbors and coworkers who had known Muslims in their midst were offering moral support against insults, injuries and death threats by a minority of Americans who equated us with the murderous fanatics who rained death and destruction on that serene Autumn day. For every American who shot at Muslims, hurled insults and splattered pig blood on mosque doors, however, there were several who threw a protective shield around us. The police were deployed to safeguard mosques. Christian and Jewish women wore hijab to accompany Muslim women on their errands. Interfaith dialogues sprouted everywhere and leaders demanded that citizens abide by the law.

But the besieged feeling persisted. Fox and other right-wing media outlets openly questioned our loyalty, accusing us of being a fifth column. Muslims who were coming of age in 2001 reacted to this onslaught in one of two ways: many embraced the faith more strongly while some were intimidated enough to abandon it. The shrill anti-Muslim voices rose and fell over the years and now, ten years later, they have metastasized into well-funded Islamophobia with the rise of the Tea party and the more extreme elements of the Republican Party. One consequence has been that most Muslims have come out of their cocoons and are engaging with the larger American society in many more ways than they used to before the 9/11 attacks. A recent Pew Research Center poll is instructive. 48% of American Muslims think the American people are generally friendly toward Muslims, 32% think they are neutral, 16% think they are unfriendly and 4% “don’t know.”

Ten years on, two things about the Sept. 11 attacks stand out.

The first is the rejection by the overwhelming majority of Muslims of al-Qaida and its nihilistic ideology. This murderous fringe group offered nothing but death and destruction. We were able to see through its sophistry and condemned its leaders and foot-soldiers in no uncertain terms, even though Islamophobes claimed that we did not raise our voice against the extremists, a canard if ever there was one. The failure of al-Qaida is evident in the outbreak of the Arab Spring, the revolutions sweeping Tunisia, Yemen, Egypt, Libya and Syria that has already dethroned some entrenched dictators. The uprisings have all been indigenous movements in which al-Qaida played no role whatsoever, an obvious indication of their irrelevance and insignificance.

The second is the catastrophic overreaction of the United States. The war in Afghanistan against the Taliban began in October 7, 2001, and had the support of most nations of the world. But when President George Bush, in concert with his diabolical VP Dick Cheney, decided to launch the Iraq war on false pretenses of weapons of mass destruction and Saddam Hussein’s connection with al-Qaida, America lost its moral bearing and purpose.

I remember joining a demonstration on March 28, 2003, in San Francisco, a week after the war began. About 2,000 Americans from all walks of life gathered to denounce the war - Quakers, Franciscan nuns and monks, Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Muslims and many others. Those who spoke, including one of America’s foremost Islamic scholars, Hamza Yusuf, explained how this was not a war of Islam versus the West but of America waging an unjust, preemptive war against a nation that had nothing to do with 9/11.

Recently, the Nobel economist Joseph E. Stiglitz wrote that President Bush’s response to the attacks “compromised America’s basic principles, undermined its economy, and weakened its security.” Truer words have rarely been written.

A conservative estimate puts America’s bill for fighting the two wars to at least $3.3 trillion, of which about $2 trillion accounts for the Iraq war. To put this in perspective, for every dollar that al-Qaida spent to pull off the Sept. 11 attacks, the cost to the United States has been an astonishing $6.6 million!

The deaths of thousands of Americans and Iraqis, the erosion of values, and the staggering amount of money wasted, constitute one of the darkest chapters in U.S. history. How did values erode? Through repression of civil liberties, partisan definition of patriotism (“last refuge of the scoundrel”), wiretapping of American citizens, surveillance without judicial approval, torture, indefinite imprisonment, docile media acting as presidential mouthpiece, extraordinary rendition, and so on.

On this tenth anniversary of that infamous day, the question is: Did the 9/11 attacks make America weak? The attacks did not, but America’s overreaction and imperial overreach did. It is a lesson America can never afford to ignore.