Even if your homegirls are chimp ugly, you must love them, because they're your mothers, sisters, girlfriends and wives. You're an ape, too. They're your heritage, flesh, language and meaning, what you tumbled out of.
Having endured a million calamities together, each nation has evolved a million customs to assert its distinctiveness, so Kapor rapturously celebrates the Serbian plum brandy, grog-like tea, love of beans, three greeting kisses and �... �ajkaÄ �a cap, the last of which I've seen no evidence of during my one month here. The greeting kisses are in abeyance because of the coronavirus, I'm assuming.
In Busan, I was immersed in an intact society, despite the coronavirus, and here in Belgrade, I'm again among people who proudly, defiantly yet calmly know themselves, and what they must protect. Reading Kapor, I'm reminded of certain Vietnamese writers who infuse readers with just as deep a love for their society. America doesn't have that.
As the country is torn apart, Stacy Schiff in the New York Times dismisses the statue toppling, media-triggered racial rioting and Main Street looting as no different from, and just as necessary as, what occurred during the Boston Tea Party, "No one was hurt. No gun was fired. No property other than the tea was damaged. The perpetrators cleaned up after themselves. In the aftermath, the surgical strike was referred to plainly as 'the destruction of the tea.' To the indignant Massachusetts governor, it constituted nothing less than a 'high handed riot.'" Only hysterics and reactionaries can mischaracterize such righteous and surgical protests as riots, in short.
Millions of businesses being wrecked will only make for a better strolling and dining experience, claims the New York Post. You won't be crowded. Steve Cuozzo, "Pre-COVID, restaurant-going had become a chore to endure. Whether at 300-seat Cathedrale in the East Village or at 50-seat Ernesto's on the Lower East Side, bodies were scrunched together without mercy. And did I mention loud? But today's expanded al-fresco dining scene with safely-spaced tables is a joyful, high-summer antidote to the 'dead city' narrative. It's less pretentious and less rowdy than scene- and trend-driven indoor eating ever was."
In Chicago, the self-absorbed mayor sanctions protests everywhere but on her own block. Irony-free, the Honorable Lori Lightfoot explains, "I have an obligation to keep my home, my wife, my 12-year-old, and my neighbors safe." When an alderman complains about the deadly chaos all over town, she shuts him up with, "You're full of sh*t."
Can't say I miss being in that madhouse. Another day, I'm sitting outside a Pa�... �ino Brdo cafe, just across the street from ObiliÄ"� Stadium. It's named after a Serbian knight who's credited with killing the Turkish Murad I, during or just after the Battle of Kosovo in 1389.
Since Milo�... � ObiliÄ"� was mentioned in no contemporary account, some doubt he even existed, but Murad I certainly had his neck and belly slashed from a Serbian sword that day. ObiliÄ"� personifies that inspiring feat. Even during the Serbs'darkest hour, they could vanquish a prized enemy, so they can certainly do it again, and again, whatever it takes.
In 1998, FK ObiliÄ"� miraculously won the national championship by besting much more storied squads, such as Red Star, Partizan and Vojvodina, etc. On the stadium's outside wall, a commemorative mural of this team is flanked by depictions of Milo�... � ObiliÄ"� and the Church of Saint Sava, for in Serbia, sport, religion, history, myth and defense of home turf are all woven together. Outside Red Star's stadium, there's even a tank and a missile launcher.
Though no fan of clear liquor, I order a glass of �... �ljivovica, for when in Rome, you know" Pouring mine from a generic bottle, the white moustached owner decides to join me, but with a glass of vodka. Kapor, "Apart from Russian vodka, �... �ljivovica is the only drink that prompts Serb farmers to piously cross themselves before drinking." Sure enough, the old fellow crosses himself before pouring comforting heat down his gullet.
Kapor, "When the Turks began to withdraw from these regions, rakija became the symbol of freedom and victory over Islam, which prohibited alcohol."
When you're steeped in your own heritage, just about every act has meaning, and for this reason alone, Serbs, Koreans and Vietnamese, etc., will outlast those whose most sacred heroes, symbols and customs have become meaningless, if not despised.
As the American state goes under inside a glass bell, its citizens must sink or swim on their own.
Having endured a million calamities together, each nation has evolved a million customs to assert its distinctiveness, so Kapor rapturously celebrates the Serbian plum brandy, grog-like tea, love of beans, three greeting kisses and �... �ajkaÄ �a cap, the last of which I've seen no evidence of during my one month here. The greeting kisses are in abeyance because of the coronavirus, I'm assuming.
In Busan, I was immersed in an intact society, despite the coronavirus, and here in Belgrade, I'm again among people who proudly, defiantly yet calmly know themselves, and what they must protect. Reading Kapor, I'm reminded of certain Vietnamese writers who infuse readers with just as deep a love for their society. America doesn't have that.
As the country is torn apart, Stacy Schiff in the New York Times dismisses the statue toppling, media-triggered racial rioting and Main Street looting as no different from, and just as necessary as, what occurred during the Boston Tea Party, "No one was hurt. No gun was fired. No property other than the tea was damaged. The perpetrators cleaned up after themselves. In the aftermath, the surgical strike was referred to plainly as 'the destruction of the tea.' To the indignant Massachusetts governor, it constituted nothing less than a 'high handed riot.'" Only hysterics and reactionaries can mischaracterize such righteous and surgical protests as riots, in short.
In Chicago, the self-absorbed mayor sanctions protests everywhere but on her own block. Irony-free, the Honorable Lori Lightfoot explains, "I have an obligation to keep my home, my wife, my 12-year-old, and my neighbors safe." When an alderman complains about the deadly chaos all over town, she shuts him up with, "You're full of sh*t."
Can't say I miss being in that madhouse. Another day, I'm sitting outside a Pa�... �ino Brdo cafe, just across the street from ObiliÄ"� Stadium. It's named after a Serbian knight who's credited with killing the Turkish Murad I, during or just after the Battle of Kosovo in 1389.
Since Milo�... � ObiliÄ"� was mentioned in no contemporary account, some doubt he even existed, but Murad I certainly had his neck and belly slashed from a Serbian sword that day. ObiliÄ"� personifies that inspiring feat. Even during the Serbs'darkest hour, they could vanquish a prized enemy, so they can certainly do it again, and again, whatever it takes.
In 1998, FK ObiliÄ"� miraculously won the national championship by besting much more storied squads, such as Red Star, Partizan and Vojvodina, etc. On the stadium's outside wall, a commemorative mural of this team is flanked by depictions of Milo�... � ObiliÄ"� and the Church of Saint Sava, for in Serbia, sport, religion, history, myth and defense of home turf are all woven together. Outside Red Star's stadium, there's even a tank and a missile launcher.
Though no fan of clear liquor, I order a glass of �... �ljivovica, for when in Rome, you know" Pouring mine from a generic bottle, the white moustached owner decides to join me, but with a glass of vodka. Kapor, "Apart from Russian vodka, �... �ljivovica is the only drink that prompts Serb farmers to piously cross themselves before drinking." Sure enough, the old fellow crosses himself before pouring comforting heat down his gullet.
Kapor, "When the Turks began to withdraw from these regions, rakija became the symbol of freedom and victory over Islam, which prohibited alcohol."
When you're steeped in your own heritage, just about every act has meaning, and for this reason alone, Serbs, Koreans and Vietnamese, etc., will outlast those whose most sacred heroes, symbols and customs have become meaningless, if not despised.
As the American state goes under inside a glass bell, its citizens must sink or swim on their own.
(Article changed on August 24, 2020 at 16:13)
(Article changed on August 25, 2020 at 07:05)
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
1
