Creating, collecting, and sharing thoughts and ideas. And learning along the way.
In celebration of the bounty of spring flowers that one sees in abundance during the month of May, I dedicate this week to the beauty and glory of these May-flowers! Following on the heels of that pink crocus from my garden yesterday, here’s a proud daffodil on the campus of WSU today.
Those We Celebrate For
I understand those who feel that joy is not an appropriate or civilized thing to feel right now. As a Christian I am asked to pray for the soul of Osama bin Laden, not to celebrate his death. And this prayer I have spoken as I am bound to. But this is also true: the joy will not leave me either and I am not ashamed in the slightest.
In fact, the only sane thing to feel right now, I think, is both great sorrow and great joy.
The reason for the sorrow is obvious: that this one figure was capable of inflicting so much pain on so many people, that he distorted so many minds and souls, that he killed so many human beings. And that he did it all in the name of God.
The reason for the joy is actually less obvious. It is, at its best, I think, not vengeance or relief – although they are within us all, at various levels of suppression. The joy comes because somewhere
we feel for the first time in so long that this hideous, bungled, tortuous, torture-filled decade of war and mass murder might, after all, have some smidgen of emotional closure, some sliver of justice in its long arc, some core thread leading to something we can call victory.
I think especially of all those young Americans who, on September 12 2001, woke up and decided to serve their country in her hour of need. I think of all those who signed up for war because of 9/11. And let’s face it. They did not sign up because they wanted to re-shape the Middle East, or bring democracy to Iraq, or to bribe Hamid Karzai.
They signed up to find, capture, or kill Osama bin Laden.
They signed up to attack everything he represents.
It gives bin Laden too much credit to say he made them soldiers. But they became soldiers because of his crime and what he had done to the country they loved.
Many of them were cheering last night. But many were not alive to do so. I think particularly of those men and women now. They died in battle not knowing that America would eventually, finally find this murderer, and bring him to justice. Imagine telling them now, as if they were still alive, “We got him! We got bin Laden!” Imagine the look on their faces. Imagine what you see in their eyes.
And then look at their faces as you also tell them that it was done by Navy SEALS, in a gun-battle, where bin Laden was given the option of surrender, and refused. And then we ensured that his funeral was a dignified one, in accordance with the protocols of Islam.
Which is to say to our heroes: You did not die in vain. And your comrades finished the job.
And who can not feel joy at that?
(Photo: Cpl Patrick Tillman, a former Arizona Cardinals linebacker. November 6, 1976 – April 22, 2004.)
Virgin No. 1: Yuck.
Virgin No. 2: Ick.
Virgin No. 3: Ew.
Virgin No. 4: Ow.
Virgin No. 5: Do you like cats? I have fourteen!
Virgin No. 6: I’m Becky. I’ll be legal in two years.
Virgin No. 7: Here, I’ll just pull down your zipper. Oh, sorry!
Virgin No. 8: Can we cuddle first?
Virgin No. 9: It was a garlic-and-onion pizza. Why?
Virgin No. 10: . . . so I see Heath, and he goes, “Like, what are you doing here?,” and I go, “I’m hangin’ out,” so he goes, “Like, what?” . . .
Virgin No. 11: First you’re going to have to show me an up-to-date health certificate.
Virgin No. 12: Hurry! My parents are due home!
Virgin No. 13: Do you want the regular or the special?
Virgin No. 14: I’m eighty-four. So what?
Virgin No. 15: Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
Virgin No. 16: Even I know that’s tiny.
Virgin No. 17: “Do it”? Meaning what?
Virgin No. 18: I’m saving myself for Jesus.
Virgin No. 19: Somewhere on my body I have hidden a buffalo nickel.
Virgin No. 20: Don’t touch my hair!
Virgin No. 21: I hope you’re not going to sleep with me and then go sleep with seventy-one others.
Virgin No. 22: Do you mind if we listen to Mannheim Steamroller?
Virgin No. 23: Are you O.K. with the dog on the bed?
Virgin No. 24: Would you mind saying, “Could I see you in my office, Miss Witherspoon?”?
Virgin No. 25: Ride me! Ride me, Lucky Buck!
Virgin No. 26: You like your vanilla hot?
Virgin No. 27: Does Ookums like Snookums?
Virgin No. 28: It’s so romantic here, dead.
Virgin No. 29: Well, I’m a virgin, but my hand isn’t.
Virgin No. 30: You are in?
Virgin No. 31: Hi, cowboy. I just rode down from Brokeback Mountain.
Virgin No. 32: I’m a virgin because I’m so ugly.
Virgin No. 33: You like-ee?
Virgin No. 34: I’ll betcha you can’t get an erection. Go on, impress me. C’mon, show me. Show me, big shot.
Virgin No. 35: By the way, here in Heaven “virgin” has a slightly different meaning. It means “chatty.”
Virgin No. 36: Sure, I like you, but as a friend.
Virgin No. 37: No kissing. I save that for my boyfriend.
Virgin No. 38: I’m Zania, from the planet Xeron. My vagina is on my foot.
Virgin No. 39: It’s a lesion, and, no, I don’t know what kind.
Virgin No. 40: I’m Jewish. Why do you ask?
Virgin No. 41: Hi, I’m Becky. Oh, whoops—you again.
Virgin No. 42: I just love camping! Camping is so great! Can we go camping sometime?
Virgin No. 43: In the spirit of full disclosure, I’m a single mom.
Virgin No. 44: You like my breasts? They were my graduation gift.
Virgin No. 45: When you’re done, you should really check out how cool this ceiling is.
Virgin No. 46: I’m almost there. Just another couple of hours.
Virgin No. 47: Get your own beer, you nitwit.
Virgin No. 48: No, you’ve got it wrong. We’re in the Paradise Casino.
Virgin No. 49: I really enjoyed that. Thank you very much. Gee, it’s late.
Virgin No. 50: You make me feel like a real woman. And after this is over I’m going to find one.
Virgin No. 51: What do you mean, “move a little”?
Virgin No. 52: Not now, I’m on my BlackBerry.
Virgin No. 53: I love it when you put on your pants and leave.
Virgin No. 54: We’ve been together twenty-four hours now, and, you know, sometimes it’s O.K. to say something mildly humorous.
Virgin No. 55: That was terrible. I should have listened to the other virgins.
Virgin No. 56: I think I found it. Is that it? Oh. Is this it? Oh, this must be it. No?
Virgin No. 57: It must be hot in here, because I know it’s not me.
Virgin No. 58: Those are my testicles.
Virgin No. 59: Did you know that “virgin” is an anagram of Irving?
Virgin No. 60: First “Spamalot,” then sex.
Virgin No. 61: Great! I was hoping for circumcised.
Virgin No. 62: Was that it?
Virgin No. 63: Dang. George Clooney was being reckless on a motorcycle, but instead I got you.
Virgin No. 64: Tonight, I become a woman. But until then you can call me Bob.
Virgin No. 65: They’re called “adult diapers.” Why?
Virgin No. 66: We could do it here for free, or on a stage in Düsseldorf for money.
Virgin No. 67: I’m just Virgin No. 67 to you, right?
Virgin No. 68: Pee-yoo. Are you wearing Aramis?
Virgin No. 69: Condom, please.
Virgin No. 70: My name is Mother Teresa.
Virgin No. 71: I’m not very good at this, but let’s start with the Reverse Lotus Blossom.
Virgin No. 72: It was paradise, until you showed up. ♦
It’s true: Palak Paneer is one of those dishes you can’t stop with just one serving. You’ll want a second, a third, and then may be another, and so on. Well, you would– if you had the kind I make! And I will give any Punjabi Dhaba or even a Punjabi grandma a run for their money with my Palak Paneer, hands down.
Cooked and pureed palak (spinach), onions and tomatoes come together in an aromatic seasoning of fried onions, garlic, ginger, and a blend of spices before cubes of paneer (firmed cottage cheese) are added to this creamy green goodness.
Here’s what I made yesterday. It doesn’t get better than that, trust me! Oh, and if you think I’m on a palak binge (with my post on Palak Pakoras from the other day), you’re right, I am.
By the way, I even make my paneer from scratch: bring the milk to a boil, break it with lemon juice, separate the curd from the whey, press down the curdled cheese into a cheesecloth, refrigerate overnight, cut into cubes the next day, and voila, you’ve got paneer fit for a king. Or for a batch of Palak Paneer fit for a king.
Palak, there’s so many ways to love ‘ya! And what do you serve this with? Rotis, parathas, phulkas, chapatis, you name it. But if you’re funky, like me, you won’t think twice to serve it with a Ragi Dosai. Seriously. IT IS AN AWESOME THING!
Bin Laden’s Death: What This Means for Pakistan’s ISI
That bin Laden had been living in a specially constructed compound less than an hours’ drive from Pakistani military HQ, and in the same town as the country’s premier military academy, makes the near constant denials by Pakistan’s intelligence agencies that the terror group leader was in the country difficult to swallow. Sure, there are at times a Keystone-cops element to the operational methods of the agencies—those assigned to trail foreign journalists in the country are less than subtle in their surveillance methods: One once asked me my address, as he was sitting in my house, another decided that quizzing my driver about my activities was far less work than actually following me to interviews—but bumbling or not, they are ubiquitous. The crackle and click of telephone lines is the constant reminder that no conversation over the phone is private, the crew-cut men in beige that materialize whenever I start asking questions proof that one is never quite alone in Pakistan. So the idea that absolutely no one but American intelligence knew who was living in that multi-million dollar compound beggars belief.
Obama was careful to thank Pakistani assistance in the raid, but how, exactly, the Pakistanis assisted will be a key part of understanding the relationship between Pakistan and the U.S. going forward. Just a few weeks ago, U.S. Chairman of Joint Chiefs of Staff Admiral Michael Mullen told Pakistani English-language newspaper Dawn that the Directorate for Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) had a “relationship” with the al Qaeda affiliated Haqqani network:
“It’s fairly well known that the ISI has a longstanding relationship with the Haqqani network….Haqqani is supporting, funding, training fighters that are killing Americans and killing coalition partners. And I have a sacred obligation to do all I can to make sure that doesn’t happen…..So that’s at the core – it’s not the only thing — but that’s at the core that I think is the most difficult part of the relationship.”
The Haqqani network is thought to be behind several gruesome attacks on foreign soldiers and embassies in neighboring Afghanistan, including the 2009 attack on the Indian Embassy there that killed 17 and wounded 63. More worryingly is recent evidence that the ISI may have had links to Lashkar-e-Taiba, the group behind the 2008 terror attacks on Mumbai, in which 10 well-trained Pakistani militants coordinated a bombing and shooting attack at several landmarks that killed 164. At a trial slated for May 16th David Headley, the Pakistani American accused of assisting LeT in reconnaissance for the attack, is expected to implicate the ISI, confirming long held suspicions by both American and Indian authorities, as well as many Pakistanis.
Defenders of the ISI say that it is their job to maintain contacts with groups like that as part of their intelligence gathering methods. One spokesman told me that the ISI has infiltrators in the terror groups just like the FBI has people undercover in the Mafia. That may be the case. But either way the ISI isn’t going to come out of this well. Either they knew about bin Laden and waited to inform the U.S., or they were oblivious to the presence of a massive, multi-million dollar compound in their back yard, one so secretive that the residents burned their own trash. That doesn’t augur well for Pakistan’s ability to tackle the next terrorist threat that comes out of the woodwork.
A pink crocus in my frontyard. April showers bring May flowers, indeed!
Of course, they’re great when made from scratch, but what if you don’t have the time but are still craving some super-crispy Palak Pakoras? Well, then what you’d want to do, is what I do: pull out my a bag of the frozen stuff, lay them out onto a baking sheet, and pop them into the oven for 15 minutes. Then, you turn off the oven from the bake-mode to the broil-mode so that the heat is only from the top in order to crisp them even more. Watch them for about four minutes, then pull out and serve with chutneys and ketchup. They’ll be as good as if you bought them at that dhaba down the road.
Palak Pakoras, for the uninitiated, are deep-fried fritters made with spinach and gramflour. Spinach-anything is good for you, you know that! The frozen kind are already fried, which is why baking/broiling works just fine.
Here’s what mine looked like yesterday! Oh, and the perfect beverage for the perfect snack? Why, chai, of course!
