In other news, mistreated Indian metalworkers who came to work in the Gulf after Katrina have won a small victory: the granting of visas reserved for victims of human trafficking.
Glenn Greenwald on criticisms of Rolling Stone reporter Michael Hastings.
Sports and American empire: Adam Golub on baseball and Iraq (skip to the fourth paragraph to avoid the plot summary of what sounds like a dreadfully boring book); zunguzungu goes a little crazy with his analysis of Americans and the World Cup.
Daniel Alarcon summarizes the strategy that makes Brazil the team you love to hate:
When the whistle blows and the match begins, jog around the pitch slowly, laconically, grinning the entire time. Your body language should express an indifference to the game itself. In fact, let your opponent control the pace, let them have possession, let them think they’re in charge. When you do get the ball, pass it around a little, just to see how it feels. Isn’t the stadium pretty under the lights? Smile. Mostly, though, wait. Be patient. Don’t run hard unless it’s absolutely necessary. Just for fun, let the other side have a few shots on goal, so they get their blood flowing. Then, after twenty minutes without a single scoring opportunity, manufacture one out of thin air—a broken play in the midfield, a counter-attack, a foul and a quick restart—and once in front of the rival’s net, be merciless.Aleksandar Hemon captures why I'm rooting for the Huns, aside from the petty perverse pleasure of imagining thousands of dead Nazis twisting in their graves as their national side is led by Lukas Podolski, Miroslav Klose, Mesut Ozil, and Sami Khedira:
Ozil, Muller, and Schweinsteiger ran rampant at a speed that was quite literally incomprehensible to the English midfield. Upson and Terry were embarrassing, Rooney did not complete a single pass and Barry had the kind of performance that normally ends international careers. The way that Ozil left him in his wake for the fourth goal exemplifies a difference in class, showing not only that Barry is overrated beyond words and would not last for a week playing for Wolfsburg, never mind Bayern, but that England simply does not have the players who can compete at this level. The way Klose brushed off Upson for the first goal, the way Khedira and the German defense won most of 50:50 balls, the speed and quick thinking of Schweinsteiger and Muller and Ozil—all that was far, far beyond the reach of the overpaid, overrated English players. Barry, Lampard, Gerrard, Milner ought to be punished by watching the footage of the German midfield taking them apart.This book on Melville Herskovits has been on my to-read list for a few years now, but Michael Barker's review on Swans is pretty much good enough that I can put it off until I need some citations for an article down the line that has to deal with MH's first book.
This reminds me that the film Herskovits at the Heart of Darkness is available for free preview from California Newsreel this month and I should try to squeeze in watching it while I can.
Tenured Radical harshes on Judith Butler's refusal of some totally homo award im MesutOzilland as celebrity posturing. Okay, but it's a fuck of a lot better than Slavoj Zizek's bullshit.
Angry Asian Man directs us to Beijing, CA, a play in SF that may be terrible or great; perhaps it'll have a revival or migrate down to LA in time for us to see it this fall.
Amitava Kumar brings our attention to a nice little exhibit up at MassMOCA that I would drive up to if it weren't for the beast that must be tamed.
