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Well, okay, he's getting close…

You mean like, maybe policy of supporting dictatorships and monarchies, and squelching even semi-democracies, might possibly have something to do with terrorism?

Let's hear for for having three relatively independent branches of government. It's far from perfect, but the odds of all three making the same mistakes at the same time are thankfully low.

"Don't ask me about racism. As a white racist it didn't affect me. But if you ask me about fear, I can tell you about that."

Pieter-Dirk Uys, in "Elections and Erections"

That line ends a serious interlude in the show, one of several that provide counterpoint to the satire and humor he so deftly uses to highlight the flaws of South African society, both before and after apartheid. He has just told us how he came to be a democrat, and he has told us of sharing the garden-shed home of a yard-boy at a rich South African home. Of the fear of being discovered. The fear of being black with white, white with black. A fear so powerful that it overwhelms the fear of being man with man. Even now, when I relate the story to my friends, that final line sends a shiver down my spine.

Pieter-Dirk Uys' alter-ego is Evita Bezuidenhout, a household name in South Africa, famous for over thirty years of satire against the apartheid government. But she hasn't stopped there. "Elections and Erections" makes it clear that Uys' true enemy is that which makes people afraid. Whether it's corruption in the apartheid government or in the ANC; politicians denying the existence of AIDS; friendships with dictators based on a common race; ignorance; false pretenses; or just the everyday fears of trying to survive in a country stuck in a downward spiral. Uys wants to expose the things that make us afraid, shine the bright light of humor on them, and bring hope and laughter to the people he loves: the people of South Africa.

I'm hearing only bad news
From Radio Africa,
I'm hearing only sad news
From Radio Africa
"Radio Africa" by Latin Quarter.

If Evita Bezuidenhout has a counter-part in the the U.S., it might be Stephen Colbert, with his pseudo-conservative satire. But Evita is much more biting and relevant, and Uys has many more roles to don beyond Evita. He plays the ANC politicians contemplating whether the next president will get the position before, or after, he is thrown in jail for corruption. He lampoons (gently, but none-the-less) Archbishop Desmond Tutu. He describes the trials of a Jewish African Princess, her relatives self-exiled to Canada, trying desperately to be the liberal she knows she ought to be. He takes on Winnie Mandela, including relating the time he played her character (complete with rubber tire jewelry) with the real Winnie in the audience. He talks to the asian storekeeper whose husband used to be too black for jobs, but now is turned down because he is too white. He does a chilling rendition of Grace Mugabe as an evil child-like woman, losing her mind to AIDS. And he doesn't save all his barbs for Africa; his characterization of Mother Theresa, filling in for Marilyn Monroe as God's secretary, is priceless. The angels are on strike, suicide bombers keep showing up in pieces looking for their virgins, and the son of the managing director is refusing to return to Earth. He even does a great Hillary (and Bill!) impersonation.

What makes Uys' work really stand out, particularly as compared to American satirists like Colbert, is its compassion; even his enemies are human. The apartheid-era security chief he lampoons still had a sense of humor. Winnie Mandala may have "necklaced" informants, but she now tours AIDS facilities and pushes AIDS education. This, in a country where the government Health Minister promotes a cure of beet juice, and claims that HIV drugs are poisonous. His barbs are as pointed as they are funny, but he sees the humanity in everyone. In his heart, his true goal is to make his people happy and unafraid. You can see it in his eyes as he relates the story of a little black boy who wanders into his theatre as he is building the stage. From a simple "do you like to sing" and a few shaky songs, you see Uys' pride as he relates how that same child made it all the way to top awards at Trinity College. Uys' South Africa has nothing to do with race, and everything to do with the pride of being a good human being.

Told today that they release you
That you had paid your debt
Nomzamo in her own damn country
How much more boorish can these people get?
But you refuse to get the message
Of waving whips, in bloody semaphore
Where only gunfire's indiscriminate - as always
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo...
"Nomzamo" by Latin Quarter.

South Africa has not been on the forefront of American minds for some time. As Uys says, if Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela hadn't had an easy-to-pronounce first name, Americans may not have been aware of the country's plight at all. In "Elections and Erections," Uys entertains, and more importantly, educates. Throughout the show, he relays tidbits of history and culture which later become the punch lines of his comedy, ensuring the audience understands the satirical context of his work. Yet the pace never suffers. The flow of comedy and pathos, serious and profane, never falters. This is not a show you want to miss. I only wish we could import Pieter-Dirk Uys to provide a similar look at ourselves.

"Elections and Erections: A Chronicle of Fear and Fun" is written and performed by Pieter-Dirk Uys. It is playing at the American Repertory Theatre's "Zero Arrow Theatre" playhouse (a wonderful dinner-theatre style space just off Harvard Square, with tables, a bar, and wonderful ambience). It will be showing through May 4th, 2008. For more information on this show and other performances, see the A.R.T. site.

The A.R.T. graciously provided free tickets to myself and other Boston-area bloggers in exchange for an honest review (good or bad). I'd like to thank them for initiating this experiment in new media.

Many thanks to @devyl for the editing assistance.
Any errors are due to my not following her advice.

I originally wrote this for my online "'zine" called Buzz, hosted on commons.somewhere.com. That was in November of 2000, right after the Florida election fiasco. Although the specifics of that election are dated, the general information is not. This is about polls, how newspapers report them, and how our need for instant results just makes things worse.

My father's words teach me not to write or share all information about my people, my family, my life. It is not wise to divulge all knowledge, for once given, it no longer is ours. We protect our lives by not giving information. It is one method of survival.

Diane Bird, Santa Domingo Pueblo

from part of a presentation in the Santa Fe Museum of ???

I originally wrote this in January of 2004 but never got around to posting it. Unfortunately, it seems to be just as relevant now. As Bruce Schneier says, we spend a lot of time and money (and fear) on "movie plot" security. The point of terrorism is to inspire fear. I suspect the terrorists have succeeded beyond their wildest expectations.

Today I dropped my laptop off at the Junior High (excuse me, "Middle School") so my daughter could make a presentation in Science class. (Yes, they have computers there, but they are these Windows things that don't meet my daughter's standards for design or elegance.) The plan was simple. I'd go in, meet her at the classroom between periods, give her the laptop, and return at the end of the period to pick it up. (It's my primary machine, I'm not going to leave it with her for the whole day.) I was going to drop it off at the office, but she suggested that I go in the back door. I pointed out that it was locked. She said to knock on the classroom window or wait until someone came out. I said I thought the front door might be a better idea.

Well, the best laid plans.... I was talking to a neighbor just before I left, and she told me I'd better get a hall pass. Seems that last Halloween a parent went to a class party (with the teacher's consent) dressed as a gangster, complete with a wooden gun. On the way out after class, someone asked him if he had a hall pass, he told them he was just leaving. A janitor followed him, someone called the police, he seemed to be driving towards another school (kind of hard not to do that in our town), there was a lockdown there and the police arrested him and took him to jail.

So I decided to play things by the book. I went in the front door to ask for a pass.

"May I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like to take this bag down to my daughter's science class, she needs it for the next period."
"Nooo, may I help you?"

Well, that was kind of a weird response. So I tried again. This time she actually explained. No, I couldn't go to the classroom. I'd have to leave it in the office. So I left it in the office, with a note to my daughter telling her she should bring it back to the office after class. They then called the classroom my daughter was currently in, interrupting the teacher, to tell him to have my daughter come to the office after class. (I'm told that the phone often rings four or five times in the classrooms in a single class—who's brilliant idea was that? When notes had to be delivered in person, they got prioritized.)

Ironically, this was in fact my original plan, but I'd rejected it when my daughter suggested going straight to the classroom, because I realized that between getting her stuff out of her locker, and coming to the office, there was no way she was going to make it in the four minutes they allot between classes.

An hour later I returned to the office, explained to a different person there that I was waiting for my daughter to return the laptop, and waited in the office. When the bell (tone) rang, I went and stood in the hall. Being on edge from all this concern about me, I carefully stood where they could see me from the window, so they'd know I wasn't going anywhere. All was going swimmingly until Baltimore (sorry, very obscure song reference there). I said "Hi" to a few students I knew, nodded to a teacher of two. Then the assistant principal showed up.

"Do you have pass?"
"No, I'm just waiting for my daughter."
"You need to check in to the office."
"I did. They know."
"You need to wait in the office. I hope you appreciate our security."

Well, no, as a matter of fact, I didn't appreciate it at all. That's like the record companies encrypting the CD as a "service" to the customer. But anyway, I kept my mouth shut... that time.

So she escorted me ten feet to the office door and inside. She then attempted to explain to the office person what I was doing there (we both told her we already knew—what, she doesn't hear a word I say?) The office person asked what classes my daughter was between, I explained, she said that meant she'd be passing from the stairwell to the auditorium. I agreed. That, I said, was why I'd been waiting where I could watch for her.

Well, at this point the assistant principal spoke up again. I don't remember the exact words, but it was to the same effect as before. That I should be glad that they were providing this level of security for my children.

I told her that she didn't want to get in a discussion with me about paranoia and security.

So of course, she did.

This wasn't paranoia, she said. These days you needed to provide tighter security.

I told her that I didn't like bringing up my kids in this kind of environment.

She agreed, but said that that was just the way we had to do it because of the times we lived in.

I said a few more things, but rather than paraphrase them quickly, let me state them here more clearly.

These are not dangerous times!

Americans are safer now than ever before in history. Not because of recent increased "security", but because of general changes in our society, and in the world as a whole. (Surprise, surprise. The world as a whole is generally better too—could be even better if we'd stop treating enemies of enemies as friends, and start thinking about them as people rather than governments, but that's a topic for another missive.)

Hijaackings? School bombings? Kidnappings? Firebombings? Groups planning the overthrow of the government? Hidden cells plotting acts of terrorism against citizens and buildings? Those aren't things that are happening now. Those are things that happened frequently in the 50's, 60's and 70's. Has everybody forgotten all the hijacked airplanes to Cuba? Ransome threats? The SLA? Bombed churches and schools? This isn't recent stuff, this is old news. We didn't get paranoid then. Why are we paranoid now?

And the paranoia isn't healthy. Our government is attempting to declare U.S. citizens to be enemy combatants with no rights at all. That barely makes sense if they are found fighting in a foreign country against us. But we're talking about U.S. citizens captured in the the United States, with no evidence that they ever took any action against the U.S.. And we've tens of millions of citizens that think this is a legitimate power for the government to have! Has everyone forgotten J. Edgar Hoover and doctored evidence? Has everyone forgotten Nixon and the breakins? McCarthy? Those were people who had absolutely no qualms about faking evidence against their enemies. What could possibly persuade someone to give that kind of unaccountable power to our government? We have proof that given secrecy and power, our government officials will eventually abuse it. And yet we want to give them more secrecy and more power?

But, you say. This is all different. It calls for extreme measures.

What is different? Terrorism in the U.S.? Hardly. Domestic terrorism has been a problem in this country since its founding. I didn't see anyone asking Christian ministers to stand-up and condemn the bombing of the Federal Building by a Christian. Foreign terrorism isn't new either. We have a family friend who was assassinated in a New Jersey parking lot. He was a high profile Bahai, and someone had him hunted down and killed. This isn't even the first time the World Trade Center was attacked—we didn't panic the first time that happened.

America is a very safe place to live. The problem is, the safer we get, the more we jump at shadows and worry about little things. This time we got hit with a big and successful attack. Our government has deliberately taken advantage of our fear to take steps that give the government more power, and the citizens less power and less freedom. One common misperception they've pushed, and I think it is more from self-delusion than a deliberate attempt to mislead, is that there is some danger of an attack on the American infrastructure. The World Trade Center was hardly a piece of American infrastructure. It was a symbol of American capitalism and of American arrogance (in the sense that it was an attempt to show off by building higher for the sake of building higher). It was attacked because, like almost all terrorism, this is a battle over ideas and a way of life (and democracy isn't the issue, so much as capitalism and democracy without moral direction). The Golden Gate bridge isn't a symbol of America, and so it's not a likely target. Killing lots of people by spreading nuclear fallout isn't the kind of thing that gets viewed as a move against foreign oppression. Domestic terrorists, fighting what they believe to be an internal war for control, attack that kind of thing. But this is a battle of symbols and press. If you want to look for targets of external terrorism, then look to things that symbolize the worst of the United States to the rest of the world.

But don't look to the local Junior High.

There is absolutely no reason for paranoid security at a middle school. Abductions haven't been suddenly climbing—they've been steadily declining, even before tightened security. Kids aren't innocent of the outside world, they are more aware. And Osama Bin Ladin is not going to try and take out the local Middle School. Furthermore, if some guy with a gun walks into the school and starts shooting the kids, forcing every parent (and even substitute teachers) to wear little badges is not going to slow him down one second. And if he really wants to be stealthy, is the work of a few minutes to make a fake badge that would escape all but the closest scrutiny. Finally, because it's a silly requirement, and because everyone knows in their heart that it's a not a big deal—it doesn't get treated as real. I spoke to half a dozen kids, nodded to several teachers. Did any one of them comment on the fact that I didn't have a badge? No. Not the teachers, the administrators or the kids. Not the ones who knew me, or the ones who didn't.

So what are we teaching in our schools? We're teaching people to be afraid and at the same time, that they should ignore authority. Silly rules breed disrespect. At first it's just disrespect of the silly rules. But it spreads. You stop having respect for the people who made them. And then you stop taking the sensible rules seriously. And throughout all of it is this general sense of fear. You're told that things are dangerous, but you can see that nothing real is being done about it. Either you stop believing anything they say, or you start believing you have no control over your future.

None of those things are lessons I want my kids to learn. And I'd far rather have them take their chances in the real world, than live behind a barrier of lies and half-truths.

So no. I don't appreciate security that manifests itself as distrust and lack of respect for parents and students, without providing any real security. And I'm appalled that people can look at the present and be so frightened, having completely forgotten that the past was much worse.

This paper was written for my 10th grade English class. We were given a choice of topics and allowed to argue either side. We researched the topics and made notes, but the final paper had to be written in class, which left no time for proof-reading or editing down. There was a problem with the file server, so I was unable to save my paper. This version was scanned in from the printed copy, and may have additional errors as a result.