Macy Gray and the BDS Movement

What is it about twitter than makes celebrities and politicians more willing to engage with fans and detractors?

Matt Yglesias gets tens, sometimes hundreds, of comments on each of his posts. He rarely comments on his own comments' section (why should he? he can always follow up with another post). And yet he felt obliged to reply to a comment I'd made a couple of month ago on twitter about his disagreements with another liberal blogger, Glenn Greenwald. He and Glenn, it'd seemed to me, had substantial differences over the US health care debate, not just disagreements over Obama's approach. I got a reply from Matt himself telling me that I was wrong, he and Glenn agree in principle but........

I would have carried on with the conversation if I cared more. But fissures among American liberal bloggers are kind of yawn-ish. So that's that.

I got a note from a friend on twitter last Wednesday, telling me that a certain Macy Gray, an African American singer, is going to be performing in 'Israel' soon. She's been receiving a lot of messages from activists urging her not to go (i.e. to boycott). So she then opened up the discussion on her facebook page, invited fans to tell her whether she Should go or not. I followed the link from the friend and lo and behold, the question had already gathered a thousand replies by then (there are +8500 as of writing this post). I knew it was virtually useless, but I did leave a comment anyway, at least my cyber buddies would see it and it would probably spark a debate (which it did).

I then wondered whether she, Macy Gray, is on twitter or not. A quick search revealed that she is. I checked her timeline (the sequence of her tweets) and it looked like she'd decided to go ahead with the gigs in Israel, and broke the news to her fans on twitter. To tell you the truth, wriggling herself away from these gigs after singing would not have been easy even if she wanted to. There are bonds and financial obligations. And then there are the predatory pro-Israel media. At the slightest whiff of boycott rhetoric, you find them open-jawed and drooling for blood.

What followed was a brief exchange I had with Macy Gray (up to that point I still didn't who she was). Later, after the insomniac Macy went to sleep and our conversation (and plans for a date) died off, I looked her up. Oh man. I may not have known who she was but I certainly knew of this song of hers.

I'm not a star-stricken or a celebrity-worshiping dude. I pay attention to celebrities when they perform well, while they're performing well. Beyond that, my concern for them do not exceed my concern for the well being of the janitor (a bit demeaning to the janitor that he's always a reference point when people speak of something meager, but I digress). Nevertheless, I was told I need to blog about this - the exchange. So here we go:


Macy Gray (to a fellow boycott activist):
"See I'm willing to listen - really listen - but some of you so called boycotters are just assholes."

Dubai Jazz (to Macy Gray):
"Hey, I'm an asshole. A pro-justice asshole!"

Macy Gray to Dubai Jazz:
"That was directed at some really awful, unnecessary. Key word SOME. boycott: taking things out of context."

DJ to MG:
"Every cause has some overly enthusiastic peeps. And boycott worked on south africa, no reason it shouldn't work on israel :)"

MG to DJ:
"i agree."

DJ to MG:
"awww. You're coming to Dubai, right? how about we meet for coffee and talk about it? :)"

MG to DJ:
"I thought you didn't like me. ????"

DJ to MG:
"I still don't like your going to Israel. But that doesn't mean I should stop liking *you*. :)"

MG to DJ:
"hmmm. only thing is - i don't like coffee"

DJ to MG:
"what's your drink of choice? :) We should get you to try the hubbly bubbly (hooka) smoke. You'll love it!!"

MG to DJ:
"ice water with 2 lemon slices. Best drink on the planet. !!"

DJ to MG:
"Wow. That makes you kind of...... affordable (just kidding:))"

(Regarding that last line, I really wanted to tell her it makes her cheap. But that, I reckoned, would have been rude and bad for the cause.)

You see, my fellow BDS activists: You need to engage your subjects of interest and communicate with them as a person before lecturing them about the history of the conflict. You have to understand where they come from. You have to put yourself in the position of someone who had never heard about the conflict before. Imagine someone urging you to boycott the Sri Lankan government for its persecution of the Tamil community. The first reaction you'd have is one of bewilderment and uneasiness. People are by nature averse to controversies and disputes (unless their involvement is calculated to generate no losses). On the other hand, people are also, generally speaking, empathic and have a tendency to stand by the underdog. But the moral terrain has to be clear. Justice delineated. You ought to be empathetic with the person you're trying to win before you expect them to be empathetic with your cause. There's a great temptation to get angry and hurl insults and accuse people of being indifferent to the suffering of others. Offensive language, while it might help you defuse some of *your* anger, is never going to produce tangible results.

But hey, don't get me wrong. I do it too. If a hasbara cunt showed up here, I have no scruples about using the C word.

Lodging a Complaint With Etisalat

The Internet was disconnected from my mobile phone yesterday, after I forgot to dully charge it with enough credit to allow Etisalat to deduct the subscription fee automatically. The SMS that intimated me of this also provided that my sim card is now pay-as-you-go, run-of-the-mill one like the millions of others around the world. (Curiously, this is one surefire way of canceling an Etisalat service. Don’t pay. Lose connection). Feeling slightly offended by this degradation of status, I summoned the web page of Etisalat and found the particular text that will, by sending it to 1010, renew the subscription.

But first, I had to dully charge my phone with enough Derhams. Which I did.

So I punched the text and SMS number and pressed sent. And waited. And waited. One hour, two hours. I checked my credit and realized that 90 DHs has been deducted upon sending the SMS (although the subscription fee is 49 DHs). Baffling! I called Etisalat blackberry help line, they told me to wait for a couple of more hours, and, if I’d not received a confirmation SMS by then, to call them again.

So I called again after the recommended period elapsed. The gentleman at the other end, to his credit, took the matter seriously and thought about it and asked probing questions. Yes, an SMS has been sent and 90 DHs deducted. No, I don’t know what the problem is. I’ll file a complaint with our IT/Billing department and they’ll call you when it’s fixed. OK?

OK.

OK.

A minute later I received an SMS from Etisalat, not, as I’d hoped, to inform me that the service has been renewed, but to proffer me a complaint number. It was fine, though. It was a development. I’m now armed with a complaint number; an important reinforcement in the bureaucratic battle of getting my complaint on the record.

This morning, almost 18 hours after the complaint was ‘lodged’, I receive a call from the complaints’ guy. Very professional and gentlemanly, despite his insistence on repeating the complaint number, which, I suspect, is meant to help Etisalat, not me, track the problem.

I mean, how many complaints could I be waging at Etisalat at the same time? Right?

Long story short: the complaints' guy asks me whether I’m certain the number I’d sent the SMS to was 1010, asks me to ‘check’ again. I summon the SMS register and it's there, an SMS sent to ‘w0w0’, (the ‘w’ button coincides with the 1 digit on the blackberry keypad), and I tell him so. He says thanks, he’ll call back.

A minute later he calls to tell me that the ‘w’ in the number I’d sent the SMS to wasn’t interpreted as ‘1’ but as ‘9’ (as is the case with the classic telephone keypads). He must be wrong, I respond, because that is the way I dial all my numbers: I don’t bother with pressing ‘alt’ before hitting the digit, the blackberry interprets the letter as the digit it’s cohabiting with. He says that is true as far as calling is concerned, however, for texting, the letters are interpreted the good ol’ way.

So: w0w0 = 9090.

I’d texted someone else completely and I’ve been bothering Etisalat for an entire day because of what is practically my own mistake.

So, I ask the complaint guy: what happened when I sent that SMS to 9090?

Nothing much, he replies. You just donated 90 DHs to Dubai Cares.

How stressful is your job?

Fire fighter................................. 60.220
Commercial airline pilot.......... 59.530
PR executive.............................. 47.600
Senior corporate executive...... 47.410
Photo journalist........................ 47.090
Taxi driver................................. 46.270
Actor.......................................... 45
Flight attendant....................... 44.840
Reporter (newspaper)............. 44.750
Police officer............................. 43.850
Newscaster............................... 43.560
Highway patrol officer............ 40.710
Travel agent............................. 40.470
Architect................................... 39.930
Stockbroker.............................. 39.700
…
…
…
…
…
Electrical technician............... 8.690
Barber....................................... 8.690
Automobile assembler............ 8.630
Music. instrument repairer.... 8.110
Jeweler..................................... 8.00
Medical records technician.... 7.480
Dressmaker.............................. 7.47
Photographic processor......... 6.820
Bookbinder.............................. 5.940


Source.


P.S.: something very significant must be pointed out here; you ought to look at the methodology by which stress level is assessed by the study. For instance: a demand for travel in a job is considered a stressor. I know people who love to travel. Would not stop traveling if they had a choice. Also competitiveness, physical demand and being in the public eye are considered stressors. You could say the same thing about these factors as well. If competitiveness is considered a stressor, I’m confident there are lots of people who would read this as an ascending boredom scale, not a stress indicator.

Sometimes the most stressful jobs are also the most rewarding.

However, there are items that must be a source of genuine stress for every sane human being. (Unless, of course, you are an asshole who loves deadlines.)

Knock on wood

Knock on wood
O loved ones
Knock on wood
O loved ones
A clap and ululation
O loved ones
For the national team

Behind every story of failure, disappointment or heartbreak, there’s a humiliating reminder of how things could have been or how they were supposed to be. The ‘grand plans’, ‘high hopes’ and ‘bold aspirations’. The above lyrics stand witness to the utter mediocrity and uselessness of the Syrian national football in the last decade. I was seven years old listening to the above song playing on repeat on TV, celebrating our winning the Mediterranean football championship in 1987 after beating France (team B, I’d later come to realize). Since then, we might have hit the play button and knocked on the wood for the “under twenty” team when they won the Asian cop in ‘94. But that’s it. I picture the producer at Channel One holding the tape, flipping, juggling, kneading, while he wait hopelessly for the team to win something of note. But alas, after every opportunity we’d find that the tape had been returned back to archives, sullen and unused.

Today, at 8:15 UAE time, Syria is going to take on Saudi Arabia in the Asian cup tournament, which is taking place in Doha. This is our first participation in 15 years. The last one was in ’96 here in the UAE. I remember it like it was yesterday. Most notably because of some memorable moments: like when Hassan Abbas, our long-standing defender, whipped a spectacular header to score an own-goal. We ended up losing to China and Japan and barely beating the then feeble Uzbekistan to come third and get the hell out of there from first round.

Syrian football commentators have contributed to the uselessness of our national football by adding absolutely nothing in terms of critique or dispassionate assessment. According to them, it’s OK that our league is shitty, because we have to engage the budding talents from everywhere and give them exposure. Also according to them, it doesn’t matter that our forays into international football almost always end in humiliation, because, regard the full half, our players are getting international exposure!

Some may argue that corruption, nepotism and favoritism are what’s killing Syrian football. I’m not impressed with that argument. There are countries that are literally paralyzed with corruption and lawlessness-- countries that we’d be the embodiment of Utopia in comparison with-- and yet they give rise to amazing football teams.

I know we have the potential. I’ve seen the kids who play barefoot and kick and thrash and tackle on rough asphalt all day long until a stratum of rocks build on the soles of their feet. I was one of them for a brief period of my tortured childhood. At one point, I used to own 17 footballs, 16 of them would be deflated with patches of attempted repair here and there. When I hit puberty (relatively late), I was the flailing defender on the field you better watch out for. I trespassed on myriads of public and private properties in search of a proper venue. I had wounds of every color and variety on my knees and elbows. I used to do a perfect arcing free kick (I still do).

And I was not even among the best 50%.

Anyway. I have a modest wish for the Asian cup. After all, we have Japan and SA in the same group and there’s no room for wishful thinking. I just pray that:

1- No matter what the results are with either Saudi Arabia or Japan, please God, do not let us lose to Jordan.
2- No matter who competes for and then win the cup after Syria is sent packing, please God, do not let it be Australia.

Just don’t ask me why…

1987