All of this stuff with the Olympic torch relay is pretty fascinating. Protests in London, Paris, San Francisco and just about anywhere else the torch shows up. Demonstrators scaled the Golden Gate Bridge to unfurl banners critical of the Chinese government.
Officials in San Francisco, where the torch is now, switched routes without telling anyone. The torch was extinguished in Paris, and the relay was cut short there. At the very least, organisers are facing some pretty pissed off people wherever the flame goes.
And yet, the Chinese still insist they will take the torch through Tibet itself. This is a stupid idea, and I suspect that international pressure, combined with escalating tensions and protests as the date nears, will make them reconsider. But you never know.
World leaders such as British PM Gordon Brown, Australian PM Kevin Rudd, US House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and the leading Democratic presidential candidates all have weighed in on China’s atrocious human rights records, specifically with respect to Tibet.
Rudd is probably the most recent one, having made statements in official visits to Washington and London that riled the Chinese government. He then travelled directly to China, as part of a planned foreign-policy world tour, and delivered a speech (in Mandarin, in which he is fluent) to students at Peking University, in which he challenged China on human rights yet again, citing “significant human rights problems” in Tibet.
Rudd is also, perhaps, the one world leader with the most street cred with the Chinese now. Besides the fact that America has zero credibility on human rights any more, Rudd has a few other things going for him. His fluency in Mandarin certainly helps, as does his power position with respect to the minerals/mining industry. Two of the largest mining concerns in the world, Rio Tinto and BHP Billiton, are Australian companies, and Australia holds some serious natural resources (iron ore, uranium, etc.) that China covets.
China wants a piece of BHP Billiton—and Rudd is the guy who can quash any such foreign direct investment. At the very least, he holds the cards to make approval of any deals contingent upon improved human rights conditions or further autonomy for Tibet.
So they have to listen to him. But they won’t, because they’re the Chinese government and they have their heads so far up their own asses. (Shang Ba Pun, the Chinese provincial governor for Tibet: “Tibetans are now enjoying democracy and wonderful human rights”. I’m sure any Tibetan who didn’t have a gun to his head would disagree.)
My initial reaction to all of this Olympic stuff was, What the hell was the IOC thinking? And then I remembered a few things: One, it’s all about money. And the Chinese have boatloads of it.
Two, the IOC doesn’t give a rat’s ass about human rights, otherwise they never would have given the Olympics to China. (See #1)
And three, it’s not like the IOC is worried about the symbolism of the Olympic torch. If they were, they would never hold another worldwide torch relay again. Why? Because the relay was the sole creation of a guy named Carl Diem, who wanted to link the 1936 Games to the good old days—all for a little bit of Nazi propaganda.
(Bonus question: Who did the PR for the first relay? Answer: Josef Goebbels.)
(BTW, I got to hold the torch once, when I was a kid. It came through my hometown in Texas on its way to the summer Games in Los Angeles, in 1984. I was in downtown Arlington. It was heavy. That’s about all I remember.)
10 April 2008
09 April 2008
It’s already Wednesday, which feels strange for some reason. I suppose it’s because the week is passing quickly, even though I am a bit slow at the office. I cleared my plate for the week in Korea, so now I have to ramp back up again.
Not much to report this week. Our internet has been out at home, so that’s a bit annoying. I want to post some pictures to Flickr—from Seoul (taken with my old camera) and from the Red Bull Flugtag (taken with the New Hotness)—but it’s too much of a pain to do it from the office. Hopefully, we’ll be back online tonight.
Ah, yes, Flugtag. This is the big event you’ve seen in Red Bull commercials where people build big manpowered flying machines and launch them into a harbour or river or wherever. Red Bull gives you wings, you know. It was their first such event in Australia.
Phil and I stayed for about half of it—I got home from the airport at about 9.30am on Sunday, then immediately showered and he and I headed out for the event. (This is after not sleeping on Friday night and getting two hours of sleep on the overnight flight from Seoul.)
I have to say that I was impressed with the whole operation. It was just so well done. The branding was brilliant, and they had thought of everything (with the possible exception of having a Red Bull-and-vodka bar, or Jäger bombs, but it was a family event). The launch ramp, situated in Farm Cove, had a great view of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge for the cameras. The judges were on a party boat moored just off the launch zone. They had floating jumbotrons everywhere so people could see the instant replays.
Some spectacular flops. Probably the coolest thing is that you get 30 seconds to do a little skit before you launch your craft, and you can have music, etc. I really think we would have killed if we had been involved. We ordered an entry kit back in October (it came with four free cans of Red Bull, natch), but someone misplaced it a few weeks later, so we couldn’t enter. Bummer.
But we’re so entering next year.
Anyway, I’ll hopefully post some pictures tonight.
Not much to report this week. Our internet has been out at home, so that’s a bit annoying. I want to post some pictures to Flickr—from Seoul (taken with my old camera) and from the Red Bull Flugtag (taken with the New Hotness)—but it’s too much of a pain to do it from the office. Hopefully, we’ll be back online tonight.
Ah, yes, Flugtag. This is the big event you’ve seen in Red Bull commercials where people build big manpowered flying machines and launch them into a harbour or river or wherever. Red Bull gives you wings, you know. It was their first such event in Australia.
Phil and I stayed for about half of it—I got home from the airport at about 9.30am on Sunday, then immediately showered and he and I headed out for the event. (This is after not sleeping on Friday night and getting two hours of sleep on the overnight flight from Seoul.)
I have to say that I was impressed with the whole operation. It was just so well done. The branding was brilliant, and they had thought of everything (with the possible exception of having a Red Bull-and-vodka bar, or Jäger bombs, but it was a family event). The launch ramp, situated in Farm Cove, had a great view of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge for the cameras. The judges were on a party boat moored just off the launch zone. They had floating jumbotrons everywhere so people could see the instant replays.
Some spectacular flops. Probably the coolest thing is that you get 30 seconds to do a little skit before you launch your craft, and you can have music, etc. I really think we would have killed if we had been involved. We ordered an entry kit back in October (it came with four free cans of Red Bull, natch), but someone misplaced it a few weeks later, so we couldn’t enter. Bummer.
But we’re so entering next year.
Anyway, I’ll hopefully post some pictures tonight.
07 April 2008
Beach bodies
What is going on in this world? Two stories, same day, opposite sides of the planet. A head, two hands and a leg. Washing up on beaches.
Phillip Island, Victoria, Australia: “Victoria Police are awaiting forensic testing after part of a human leg was discovered along a beach at Phillip Island on the weekend.”
Arbroath Beach, Scotland: “Two men have been charged in connection with the death of Jolanta Bledaite, the Lithuanian woman whose head was found on a Scottish beach by two children.”
Yikes. Grisly discoveries there, especially in Scotland. Can you imagine being a little girl (the children who discovered the head were girls aged 8 and 11) uncovering a severed human head on the beach?
Please hold on to your extremities, folks. As Herman, the one-armed veteran who runs the military antique store in Springfield, says:
Phillip Island, Victoria, Australia: “Victoria Police are awaiting forensic testing after part of a human leg was discovered along a beach at Phillip Island on the weekend.”
Arbroath Beach, Scotland: “Two men have been charged in connection with the death of Jolanta Bledaite, the Lithuanian woman whose head was found on a Scottish beach by two children.”
Yikes. Grisly discoveries there, especially in Scotland. Can you imagine being a little girl (the children who discovered the head were girls aged 8 and 11) uncovering a severed human head on the beach?
Please hold on to your extremities, folks. As Herman, the one-armed veteran who runs the military antique store in Springfield, says:
HERMAN
Ah, hello, young American.
BART
Hello, sir. Uh, Mr. Herman?
HERMAN
Yeah?
BART
Did you lose your arm in the war? (He points.)
HERMAN
My arm? Well, let me put it this way: Next time your teacher tells you to keep your arm inside the bus window, you do it!
BART
Yes, sir, I will.
Ah, hello, young American.
BART
Hello, sir. Uh, Mr. Herman?
HERMAN
Yeah?
BART
Did you lose your arm in the war? (He points.)
HERMAN
My arm? Well, let me put it this way: Next time your teacher tells you to keep your arm inside the bus window, you do it!
BART
Yes, sir, I will.
Back in Australia
I’ve returned from Korea, after spending a pretty full-on week there for work. Monday was a travel day; Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday featured non-stop meetings and tours and brainstorms and dog-eating. On Thursday, I had to present our regional plan for Australian PR/marketing to the client’s C-suite, so the CEO, CMO, CFO, etc.
It went well, so I’m happy about it. I was a bit worried—not in terms of my presentation, which I’m comfortable with, but with what questions might come up that would be tricky. I didn’t get anything that threw me off, or anything that I wasn’t prepared for, so I’m glad.
View from my hotel room at dawn, in Gangnam.
I ended up staying an extra night, on Friday, to hang out with F. Scott Thompson. He and one of his coworkers trekked into Seoul (they live about 45 minutes away) and met me at my hotel, and then we hit Itaewon. Started the night at a little Mexican restaurant (how sad is it that I can get better Mexican in Korea than in Australia?), which was delicious, especially the refried beans, and then to some bar called Gecko’s.
Gecko’s creeped me out a bit. Itaewon is near a US military base (Yongsan Garrison, chiefly), so there are Americans everywhere. And they all have little to no hair. I haven’t been in a room that full of Americans since December of 2006, so it was a bit weird. Plus, they’re all under 24. And you get the—well, let’s just say there aren’t commissioned officers hanging out in Gecko’s.
What’s strange is that there is a 1am curfew imposed on all US military members in Seoul. (There are about 30,000 American troops stationed in the country to keep the commies at bay.) As this deadline approaches, you see military police officers—in full night-time camouflage gear, complete with guns—entering the bars to check for anyone violating curfew. I didn’t see anyone get hauled off, although as we walked up “Hooker Hill”, passing brothels and the like, we did see a couple of soldiers being talked to sternly by some MPs.
A few of them came into a sparsely populated bar we ended up in, and I almost expected them to approach Scott and me. they gave us a once-over and somehow judged that we weren’t. (Too old, probably; hair too long, although mine had just been cut short.) We kind of hoped they did, that they’d get snippy and hit us or something so we could sue the US Army. Deep pockets, that Uncle Sam.
Saturday was a write-off, really. I met Scott at a large bookstore and we went and ate tacos at yet another Mexican place (also good). Scott had to leave to teach a private English lesson somewhere, so I did some shopping for the team here. Bought nice little spoon and chopstick sets for everyone. (Australian quarantine officer, looking at my bags through X-ray, smiling: “Wow, you’ve got a lot of chopsticks in there!”)
I hit the bus to Incheon airport at 4pm. It’s then that you realise how polluted the area around Seoul is, at least compared to a city like Sydney. Most days there were what a meteorologist would probably call “clear”, but it was still quite hazy. as we headed west toward the airport, the water in the bay and the sky were so perfectly fused that one couldn’t see the horizon. It was just washed-out white, plus haze, brightly lit by the setting sun. I wished for my camera, but I left my new baby at home.
Another good time in Seoul. Don’t know when I’ll be back, but perhaps soon.
It went well, so I’m happy about it. I was a bit worried—not in terms of my presentation, which I’m comfortable with, but with what questions might come up that would be tricky. I didn’t get anything that threw me off, or anything that I wasn’t prepared for, so I’m glad.
View from my hotel room at dawn, in Gangnam.
I ended up staying an extra night, on Friday, to hang out with F. Scott Thompson. He and one of his coworkers trekked into Seoul (they live about 45 minutes away) and met me at my hotel, and then we hit Itaewon. Started the night at a little Mexican restaurant (how sad is it that I can get better Mexican in Korea than in Australia?), which was delicious, especially the refried beans, and then to some bar called Gecko’s.
Gecko’s creeped me out a bit. Itaewon is near a US military base (Yongsan Garrison, chiefly), so there are Americans everywhere. And they all have little to no hair. I haven’t been in a room that full of Americans since December of 2006, so it was a bit weird. Plus, they’re all under 24. And you get the—well, let’s just say there aren’t commissioned officers hanging out in Gecko’s.
What’s strange is that there is a 1am curfew imposed on all US military members in Seoul. (There are about 30,000 American troops stationed in the country to keep the commies at bay.) As this deadline approaches, you see military police officers—in full night-time camouflage gear, complete with guns—entering the bars to check for anyone violating curfew. I didn’t see anyone get hauled off, although as we walked up “Hooker Hill”, passing brothels and the like, we did see a couple of soldiers being talked to sternly by some MPs.
A few of them came into a sparsely populated bar we ended up in, and I almost expected them to approach Scott and me. they gave us a once-over and somehow judged that we weren’t. (Too old, probably; hair too long, although mine had just been cut short.) We kind of hoped they did, that they’d get snippy and hit us or something so we could sue the US Army. Deep pockets, that Uncle Sam.
Saturday was a write-off, really. I met Scott at a large bookstore and we went and ate tacos at yet another Mexican place (also good). Scott had to leave to teach a private English lesson somewhere, so I did some shopping for the team here. Bought nice little spoon and chopstick sets for everyone. (Australian quarantine officer, looking at my bags through X-ray, smiling: “Wow, you’ve got a lot of chopsticks in there!”)
I hit the bus to Incheon airport at 4pm. It’s then that you realise how polluted the area around Seoul is, at least compared to a city like Sydney. Most days there were what a meteorologist would probably call “clear”, but it was still quite hazy. as we headed west toward the airport, the water in the bay and the sky were so perfectly fused that one couldn’t see the horizon. It was just washed-out white, plus haze, brightly lit by the setting sun. I wished for my camera, but I left my new baby at home.
Another good time in Seoul. Don’t know when I’ll be back, but perhaps soon.
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