Are Republicans Truly Wicked?

Joshua Marshall has done a remarkable job monitoring and documenting a brewing scandal involving Republican dirty tricks in New Hampshire. This is a must-read. Mark Kleiman is running with it as well, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it take on a life of its own in the days to come.

At the heart of the scandal is telemarketing firm GOP Marketplace, hired by Republicans to jam the phone banks at the offices of the New Hampshire Democratic Coordinated Campaign and the Manchester Firefighters’ Union Local on election day last November. That’s a no-no, a violation of state and federal law. The executive director of the NH Republican Party was caught lying about it to the Manchester Union Guardian and promptly resigned. As interesting as Marshall’s sleuthing is the deafening silence from all but the New Hampshire media. The shadowy GOP Marketplace seems to have been involved in other GOP campaigns, and its founder Allan Raymond appears to be connected to some of the top names in the party. Again, watch this one carefully.

Journalism at its Finest

From today’s China Daily:

Acording to Chen Tong, vice president and editor-in-chief of Sina.com, a famous Internet gateway website in China, there are about 15-20 million people surfing his new webpages every day and 80 percent show concern about the situation in Iraq. Chen said most of the Internet surfers expressed their sympathy for the Iraqi people and opposition towards war in the region. The forum has given rise to heated debates about the United States’ role in the crisis, with some people believing the evidence provided by Washington to the United Nations Security Council does not prove Iraq possesses weapons of mass destructions.

First the obvious: How on earth does this guy know that 80 percent of 20 million surfers “show concern” for the iraq and that “most” are show sympathy “for the Iraqi people and opposition towards war.” If they were so sympatheitc with the Iraqi people, how could they be against the war? Despite how badly Bush has botched his argument, it does include liberation of one of the most oppressed people on our planet.

Then we get to China Daily’s signature propaganda tool: The anonymous opinionizer. Note in the last sentence the use of the phrase “some people.” Just imagine a real newspaper, not a puppet, saying in its story as a matter of fact that “Some people don’t like Bush,” and not following it up with who those people are or how the information was obtained. Here it is totally status quo. My favorite is, “Experts say….” This catch-all propaganda gimmick is used ad nauseum on CCTV, allowing the announcer to regurgitate whatever nonsense The State wants to be heard.

(If you’re new to my site, it helps to know that I am a former newspaper reporter and have strong feeling about the abuse of media.)

It is always reassuring to see that Andrew Sullivan has not been so blinded by his adoration of President Bush that he cannot see his weak spots. Sullivan very soberly comments on Bush’s Achilles heel:

“It’s the economy, smarty-pants. No, not the growth rate which the public is smart enough is not amenable to easy manipulation. Not even the unemplyment rate, which may well recover after the war. I mean the explosive rate of current government spending and the president’s utter insouciance about how to pay for it. I’ve been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his latest budget removes any. He’s the most fiscally profligate president since Nixon. He’s worse than Reagan, since he’s ratcheting up discretionary spending like Ted Kennedy and shows no signs whatever of adjusting to meet the hole he and the Republican Congress are putting in the national debt.”

Like father, like son? In four separate pieces, Sullivan goes on to pick apart his majesty’s “fiscal policy” (i.e., spend a lot of money). A very refreshing balance to his recent drum beating and proof that he’s still a must-read.

Air China Postscript….

A colleague has reminded me that we flew to Hong Kong on Air China back in September, and while the food and the service were sub-standard, there were no nightmares or atrocities that approached what I went through last week. Was it just a fluke, an isolated incident? Maybe, but even so, that doesn’t justify it or make it any less agonizing for its victims.

Occasionally in life we encounter situations and things that are so bewildering, so opposite of what they are supposed to be, so absurd and illogical that all we can do is laugh. No, I’m not referring to Ann Coulter’s “writings” or Bush’s latest judicial or commission appointments, but rather to my recent experience flying Air China. I’d been warned about Air China before, but I arrogantly rejected advice that I fly instead on Thai Air. (Actually, Thai Air was sold out so I didn’t have a choice.)

I think everyone should fly a local PRC carrier at least once, just to understand how different things are over here. Maybe then you would believe me.

Last week, as Chinese New Year began, I had no choice but to fly business class out of Beijing on Air China. Luckily I got a very good deal, but it was still costly; my one consolation was knowing that I could relax and enjoy superior service and comfort. How could I have been so hopelessly naive?

I am almost reluctant to post about this debacle, because words can’t really capture the full spectrum of horrors that I witnessed. And chances are no one will believe me, it’s too absurd. All I can say is that it is totally true, scout’s honor.

It started the instant I arrived at the airport. Anticipating heavy traffic to the airport and long lines, I arrived diligently early only to see that there was virtually no service, no one to help, no one to ask questions to at the Air China counters. Several other early arrivers appeared distraught and bewildered, and tried to get answers from the uniformed airport staff walking by, but no one knew, no one had any answers. (It brought back ominous recollections of my recent experience at a Chinese bank.) We formed two lines at the two designated counters for business class travellers, each marked with the red carpet intended to indicate superior service and preferential treatment for those who have paid extra money for their tickets. That’s what I used to think those red carpets meant. At Air China, they are strictly for show.

We ended up waiting there for nearly two hours, totally ignored, before the real madness began. Meanwhile, on either side of the exclusive business class lines, throngs were forming for the economy and tour group counters. Everyone was asking why there was no one to process our tickets, what we were supposed to do. Finally some Air China staff materialized and they began taking tickets — but only from the Economy and Tour Group lines. Business class was ignored. One evil-looking lady just sat on a stool behind the counter scowling and stamping a huge pile of documents. One of the business class passengers had the temerity to walk up to her and ask if there was anyone to help us. At this, the stamper shrieked back at the top of her lungs in a voice that would frighten the doves. I don’t know what she said, but her shrieks went on long and loud. I swear, it was like a parody of the old Soviet scenario of the peasants begging for bread while some bureaucrat, sitting in front of mountains of wheat, kept stamping papers and refusing to let the starving masses have any food. Meanwhile the Economy and Tour Group lines were moving along, slowly but at least going forward.

The two business class lines began to disintegrate as we all realized this was not going to be your everyday “red carpet” experience. People began to flee the red carpets to get onto the Economy line. One European man went running into the hall, frantically halting anyone in a uniform and screaming for help. I watched as everyone he asked basically told him to go to hell. I was the very first on my red-carpet line and I stood my ground, unwilling to start all over, after my two-hour-plus wait. Finally, a frazzled, exhausted and confused-looking woman came out and walked to one of the business class counters. With this, the mobs surged forward and it was absolutely every man for himself. There was no pretense of any politeness or order. Total anarchy as the elite passengers clamoured for this overwhelmed woman to help us get our boarding passes. Luckily I was up front and was able to force my ticket into her hands. There was no hello, no smile; her face showed only a why-are-you-doing-this-to-me look of horror. I thought back to my recent flight on Cathay Pacific, an exercise in elegance, and I wondered again why I ever left Hong Kong. As I walked away clutching my coveted boarding pass, I looked back at the anarchic scene and felt that I had just escaped a true nightmare.

There were thirty minutes left to boarding, and I made my way, trembling and exhausted, to the “business class lounge.” Another assault to the senses, the lounge was dingy, messy and joyless. The only English-language publication on the racks was a dog-earred Air Canada magazine listing the inflight films for December 2002. I just had to laugh.

On to the gate. There was no call for boarding the plane. Someone just materialized and opened the door and began to take people’s tickets. Again, I witnessed another mob scene that seems to typify the Air China experience. No line, just a swollen mass of helpless people waving their tickets. No call for senior citizens or families with small children, no call for first-class/business travellers, just a free-for-all. Again, I braced for battle and made my way toward the front.

The flight itself was less horrific than the airport insanity — but just a little. The plane’s interior was dirty and yellowed with age, the upholstery of the seats worn and frayed. After handing out the packages of mixed nuts, the attendant never came back to pick up the empty packets, which sat on the passengers’ armrests until after dinner. No one offered to refill our empty water glasses. The food was barely passable; the red wine was literally undrinkable.

I am fully aware that it is not fair to hold China up to the standards held by other more developed countries. I do not expect Air China to deliver what Singapore Airlines or Cathay Pacific deliver. That said, there is absolutely no excuse for treating passengers like cattle, whether they are business class or any other class. If they are going to have the audacity to offer a business class product at all and demand a lot of extra money for it, have they not the responsibility to give the passenger at least something back (aside from abuse) — if only a bit of respect or kindness?

As I said, words simply cannot evoke the frustration, anguish and nastiness of this experience. I hope I’ve managed to at least give you a hint of what it was like. I can deal with business class being sub-standard or inferior. But nasty? Vicious? Hateful and abusive? No, I don’t think there’s any excuse, and it takes its place as one of my most jarring and unhappy exeriences here to date.

Oh, and in case I failed to make myself clear: If any of you are considering an international flight on Air China, I strongly recommend you reconsider.

I just stumbled onto a most unusual news site. Check it out, and don’t miss the review of Bob Woodward’s latest bestseller, which had me laughing out loud.

Back to Beijing and Business as Usual

I stumbled out of the plane, dazed and confused. My flight back to Beijing had left Bangkok two hours late, after 3am, and landed at 8:30am Beijing time. (More on my flight experience later.) With just two hours of sleep, I scarcely knew where I was — at least for a few minutes.

I was the very first off the plane and made my way briskly to the passport control agents, who sit at their little booths with an LCD panel overhead saying Foreigners or Chinese Nationals. All but two of the many booths were for Chinese Nationals. One of the two Foreigners booths had a line of about 5 travelers, the other had 2, so that’s the one I chose. How exhilarting, to rush off my plane and be almost first in line, guaranteeing me a fast and painless departure from the Beijing Airport. Would that it were so.

Within seconds there was quite a line behind me, and suddenly I heard a collective moan from the accumulated masses — the Foreigners sign above me had suddenly changed to Chinese Nationals! We all scurried frantically to the other line, which by now was also quite long, and instead of being “the very next one,” I had about 20 others ahead of me. This was annoying enough, though certainly not the end of the world. What rubbed the salt into everyone’s wounds was that about 70 seconds later the sign for the line we had just abandoned changed again, back to Foreigners! Everyone groaned as a new line quickly formed, with those coming off my flight last stepping right to the front. I had to wait nearly half an hour.

“We’re back in China,” the young lady in front of me said to her husband. If I wasn’t sure where I was when I got off the plane, I knew for sure where I was now. I just found it amusing/alarming that the point was driven home so quickly after landing in the PRC. It seems one moves from one breakdown to the next here, with so many occurring so rapidly and so continuously that one starts to scarcely notice them. I honestly believe that is the trick to a healthy life in China — to develop a callous that protects you from the perpetual browbeating inherent in the system here, dulling the pain and shielding you from insanity.

I just woke up after four hours of sleep in my ice cold apartment. I will be back soon with one of the strangest experiences I have ever endured in China, even more bizarre than going to the bank for a routine transaction. I won’t give it away, but here’s a tantalizing hint — there is no airline on the planet that can compare, in any way, with Air China. Later.

Time, ignoring my pleas, is marching on and I have only a few hours left in Bangkok. I suspect that as soon as I step off the plane tonight in Beijing, Time will suddenly pay attention and go into slooooow moooootion. Why does it always seem to work like that?

All of my initial observations on the Thais and their approach to life stand intact. I will deeply miss the smiles, the courtesy, the irrepressible ability to display a love of life even under the most difficult of circumstances. I will also deeply miss the weather, which has been absolutely perfect from the instant I arrived. And I’ll miss the massages, outlandishly cheap and remarkably good. It’s a really sad time for me, and it raises many questions.

I’ll get back into my regular blogging mode once I’m settled back “home” in Beijing. For now, I just want to savor the last moments of one of the happiest trips I’ve ever taken.

Money girls, money boys

Sex sells, everywhere. But Bangkok’s sex trade is certainly unique in its audacity, its boldness. It seems you can’t walk more than a few minutes in any direction before hawkers peddling their wares accost you. “Young girl, very young girl, only 500 baht.” “Many young boys, they do whatever you want, one thousand baht.”

Many of these young people stand at street corners where they flag down the tourists. Others work in the go-go clubs where they stand on the stage, a numbered badge affixed to their scant clothing; club managers walk from customer to customer asking if they’d like to take one of the dancers “upstairs.” (These places no longer offer live sex shows, which the current prudish prime minister halted a few years ago. And yes, I have visited a couple of these places myself, but not on this trip.) Wherever you go, there seem to be young people for sale. There are numerous books for sale about Bangkok’s sex trafficking and the cruelties some of these prostitutes are subject to.

A friend of mine here tells me that the sex trade is ultimately a good thing. Many of these sex workers come from impoverished families in remote villages, and their families depend on the money they earn for their survival. This is a difficult argument, and I get a headache thinking about it. The humiliation these young people must endure, the threat of disease, the basic wrongness of using teenagers (which many of them are) for sex…. It’s hard to justify that.

My friend tells me, “They have a choice. They can work in my factory for 200 baht a day, or they can work for a few years as whores and earn 2000 baht a day. So can you blame them for doing this?” (For reference, 200 baht is less than five US dollars.)

Just one more of the world’s many moral/ethical dilemmas. It’s not going away any time soon, especially since it’s a major draw for the country’s all-important tourism business. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Right now I really don’t have an answer.

My final point on Iraq, 12 hours later: One glaring point jumped out at me during Powell’s speech and I am surprised I haven’t heard more about it. According to Powell himself, Saddam’s most evil deeds by far — the wholesale slaughter of the Kurds and other massacres — took place around 1988. If these deeds were so despicable and if we cite them in our litany of reasons for declaring war in 2003, does the question not arise, Why did we not take appropriate action when we had the soldiers there in 1991? Why did we not take advantage of that opportunity to eradicate the source of the evil then? How much money is going to waste by having to do the whole thing twice?

For Powell to point to a massacre of 1988 as a factor justifying Saddam’s overthrow rings somewhat hollow, considering Bush Sr. knew all about it more than a decade ago, when our troops were there and poised to attack, and then decided that toppling Saddam wasn’t important enough to risk regional instability. Why is it worth the risk now? And wasn’t Powell himself key to the decision to let Saddam be?

Again, I’m no expert, but these are the types of questions I am hearing in Asia, and I have to admit I can understand why many view the current state of affairs with skepticism and cynicism.