a cabdriver reads Thomas L. Friedman

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‘How to Read the Tom Friedman Article in Today’s Times Mag’: A Post =

by John

Hello. I am here to tell you about the article entitled “The Power of =

Green” (AKA “The Greening of Geopolitics”) in this week’s New York =

Times magazine by my American friend Mr. Thomas L. Friedman. Allow me =

to introduce myself. I am called Pookunhi Takahiro Pierre Velazquez y =

Al-Sadr. By birth, I am of the Oulad Bou Sbaa (”Father of the Lion”) =

tribe; it is a noble tribe. Because of the globalization, however, in =

the mid-1990s, I became a cab driver in Abu Dhabi, and it was on the =

corner of Liwa and Sheik Hamdam Bin Mohammed, peace be to =

Zarathustra, that I first met my American friend Mr. Thomas L. =

Freidman, who was flapping his arms like that traditional bird I know =

about, which I still take seriously as a beautiful metaphor even as I =

face down modernity. Anyway, he came into my taxi and asked to learn =

my name, and also my existence.

I told him the latter would be benefited by a new line of luxurious =

sedans from the Toyota Motors Company and a new e.-v. o. o. that went =

better with those too-sour artisanal balsamics my vinaigrette-Nazi =

wife was always having me try at home. He nodded knowingly, but could =

not pronounce my name, so he said he would call me simply “John,” =

which is a popular name in America. I told him that that was fine but =

I preferred the Old Testament resonances of “Jon” to the “h”- =

inclusive Christian spelling; he explained that I was likely =

illiterate and probably did not care.

Mr. Thomas L. Friedman — in my culture, it is customary to shorten =

the name “Thomas” to “Tom,” but my American friend said there were =

some things even he would not countenance in the name of golden =

interdependence — was craving a Royale with Cheese, so I pulled over =

at the neighborhood McDonald’s, and he disembarked. Though he is a =

very good friend whose inner life I understand with a depth =

comparable only to the height that that bird I talked about earlier =

can fly, this was sadly the last time I saw Mr. Thomas L. Friedman. I =

am not sure, but I believe his country and my country are now at war.

In any case, imagine the surprise when I saw my old friend’s article =

on the cover of today’s New York Times magazine! I am embarrassed to =

say, though I am a subscriber (there are things behind the Select =

wall that infidels could not even fathom!), I make it past The Funny =

Pages only rarely — in my culture, The Funny Pages are the funniest =

pages in the media and all the online blogs talk about them, so I =

always laugh so hard at them the whole magazine rips apart in my =

hands. But, of course, I owed it to Mr. Thomas L. Friedman to read =

what he had to say about America and the environment and the world, =

because he once showed me such empathy and understanding, and =

because, as I learned from our last meeting, Mr. Thomas L. Friedman =

entertainingly enjoys pointing outside the windows of moving vehicles =

and yelling out new, absurd words for the familiar things he sees. In =

my culture, this way of communicating is very non-traditional and =

exciting — alas, we know about Koko the talking gorilla only from =

pirated VHS copies of PBS documentaries purchased at bazaars, next to =

harems, next to sultans — so I set aside my insatiable curiosity =

over what happens next in that Michael Chabon serial novella, and =

turned straight to “The Greening of Geopolitics” by Mr. Thomas L. =

Friedman.

Wow! Things are very different in the United States and — praise be =

the Merovingian kings! –not entirely in a bad way either. We in the =

Emirates have a lot to learn from the simplicity and resourcefulness =

of Americans like my friend Thomas L. Friedman, and so, before you =

make judgments based on preconceived notions of what an original, =

properly argued magazine article should be, I ask you to read “The =

Greening of Geopolitics” in a generous and culturally sensitive way =

that does not immediately appeal to such terms as “hack” and =

“embarrassment to the Pulitzer committee and, moreover, the art and =

practice of writing as such.” For example, I read in a fascinating =

(though traditional and properly argued) piece by John Colapinto in =

the New Yorker last week that there is a very primitive tribe in =

Brazil that can only count with “one,” “two,” and “many,” and have no =

fixed words for colors. I did not expect this to be true of Mr. =

Thomas L. Friedman the time I met him — when he told me I have a =

“beautiful odor” and a terrifically patterned traditional tunic (it =

was a slim-fit Zegna my sister-in-law picked up for me in Milan) — =

but perhaps he in fact exhibits the same marvelously dignified =

penchant for solipsistic extrapolation and sophistic elision (so =

often ridiculed in our traditional culture as “lazy ‘tardation”) as =

those wonderful Pirah=E3 tribesman. Perhaps it is a recessive allele?

That is to say, we are being dangerously ethnocentric if we ask my =

American friend Thomas L. Friedman to have the same sense of history, =

or even basic non-demagogic short-term memory, that we would expect =

of a journalist here at home. Of course, because we are always =

shopping for pirated DVDs of An Inconvenient Truth at bazaars, next =

to harems, next to sultans, we remember the man named Al Gore, and, =

as such, it would be plainly ridiculous for any individual in our =

traditional culture to claim to make, on April 15, 2007, an original =

argument about how environmentalism should become a non-partisan =

issue that everyone rallies around. But, with no fixed words for =

colors — or, for that matter, the sets of programmatic predilections =

customarily second-order signified by them — in my friend Thomas L. =

Friedman’s society, a shamanistic practice ethnologists call =

“obliviously stating the obvi” holds sway:

We will need to find a way to reknit America at home, reconnect =

America abroad and restore America to its natural place in the global =

order — as the beacon of progress, hope and inspiration. I have an =

idea how. It’s called “green….” Well, I want to rename “green.” I =

want to rename it geostrategic, geoeconomic, capitalistic and =

patriotic. I want to do that because I think that living, working, =

designing, manufacturing and projecting America in a green way can be =

the basis of a new unifying political movement for the 21st =

century…. How do our kids compete in a flatter world? How do they =

thrive in a warmer world? How do they survive in a more dangerous =

world? Those are, in a nutshell, the big questions facing America at =

the dawn of the 21st century. But these problems are so large in =

scale that they can only be effectively addressed by an America with =

50 green states — not an America divided between red and blue states.

I did some searching on the Google, and want to point out to the =

reader that, xenophobic lies aside, Americans do not actually believe =

that the planet Earth is flat, is becoming flatter, or was ever flat =

before. In fact, it seems that Americans are just inordinately =

transfixed by strained catchphrases, which, according to my taxi =

conversation with Mr. Thomas L. Friedman, they love affixing to such =

things as books commonly found in the “Political Science” sections of =

public libraries, Sunday-morning talk show appearances, and even =

statements in the sorts of venues we in the more traditional world =

usually associate with serious truth claims. Take that into =

consideration when reading utterances like this:

The good news is that after traveling around America this past year, =

looking at how we use energy and the emerging alternatives, I can =

report that green really has gone Main Street — thanks to the =

perfect storm created by 9/11, Hurricane Katrina and the Internet =

revolution. The first flattened the twin towers, the second flattened =

New Orleans and the third flattened the global economic playing field.

Now, it may be shocking to for us to hear such crudeness, but if we =

are to answer the big questions facing a twenty-first century of =

Times Op-Ed domination, it is best to learn well the environmental =

lesson that my American friend Thomas L. Friedman first taught me all =

those years ago: polish up a cubic zirconia anecdote and it might =

just pass — for two or three decades at least — as a diamond factoid:

My Pakistani friend and I were allowed to observe a class of young =

boys who sat on the floor, practicing their rote learning of the =

Koran from texts perched on wooden holders. The air in the Koran =

class was so thick and stale it felt as if you could have cut it into =

blocks…. I went to Moscow in February, and my friends told me they =

just celebrated the first Moscow Christmas in their memory with no =

snow…. Outside my window the smog was so thick you could not see =

the end of the terminal building. When I got into Beijing, though, =

friends told me the air was better than usual.

In the olden days of my culture, custom would dictate that we try to =

figure out what is meant by such foreign babble. But as a properly =

glocalized man, I say hogwash: It’s enough to know that, deep down, =

despite all the superficial differences, the world’s people are =

really, truly best friends forever. =97p. t. p. “john” velazquez y al-sadr

The Power of Green [NYTM]

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