On Free Speech

Last Tuesday, I got to see the President of Israel speak. I say see, not hear, on purpose. You see, between the protesters outside, those inside, and the fact that Peres is a very soft speaker with a fairly heavy accent, I only caught about 1 out of every 6 words. Still, it was an unforgettable experience, partially because all of those factors.

I don't know much about the situation in Israel and Palestine. I know the basics, and I know that a two-state solution seems to be the most logical argument. I even took a class where we looked at the ideologies behind terrorists in places like Israel and Palestine. But I am far from an expert on the subject, and I definitely don't feel strongly enough either way to feel compelled to protest a speech. Instead, I spent the time thinking on free speech, protests, and what they can do.

Now, I love free speech. I love it when people protest. I think it's a fantastic example of democracy in action. But I also wonder what good an angry protest does. The most successful protests I can think of are sit-ins, marches, and the like, all of which were ... quiet in a very powerful way. The protest of Peres was anything but. Lots of chanting and shouting and trying to aggressively convince people of their position. It made me wonder how well it worked, in the end. I 100% support their ability to protest, but I wonder: What can be learned from shouting?

Similarly, during the speech, about 6 people stood up and said various facts about what Israel has done to Palestine. Now, this was much calmer and more fact-driven. But the people were using their right to free speech to take away someone elses, and to take away my right to listen. That seems rather unfair. I might not agree with everything Peres says, but I still have the right to listen to him say it.

It all kind of makes me wonder why some people thing that converstaion, dialogue, and speeches are so dangerous. Of course, there are numerous ovious examples of when it can be. But this was a speech on globalism and peace given at an international university and there was a question/answer time. Why was it necessary to interrupt that? Why were people so mad that he came to speak that they shouted at people who went to listen? It's quite likely that I simply don't get the whole situation, and that there are complexities and atrocities that should make me that angry. But still, I just wonder...

Any thoughts?

Englishy-ness.

Perhaps it's not surprising, but every day that goes by my life gets a little more Englishy.

Mostly, my life has been taken over by rowing. What started out as a laugh, something to do on a random Saturday afternoon, has quickly turned into something much more serious. First, I would go out 2-3 times a week. Then, I was expected to go to the "tank," a giant indoor, concrete boat-type-thing. Finally, they inflicted circuit training and ergs on me (ergs being rowing machines, or the devil, as I affectionately nicknamed them). Starting this week, I'll be out on the water 4 times, all in preparation for the Christ Church Regatta, in 7th week. The regatta is only for novice teams, which Green Templeton definitely is at the moment. But I honestly don't care if we win or lose. I just enjoy being in the boat. It's like going canoeing in the summer with my dad, only faster and colder. There's simply nothing more enjoyable than watching the sun rise over Oxford, while you're on the river. How English.

In addition to rowing, I have managed to find time for other things, including my studies. I'm in the process of finding a research topic. Social science research is so different in so many ways than what I'm used to, that it's taking a while for me to get in the groove. It hasn't helped matters that my dissertation supervisor was in New Zealand until Tuesday. And, just like Megan, I'm beginning to learn to write in English. Although I'm less proficient--and probably care less--than she does.

Perhaps one of the most Englishy things I've been up to recently has been Guy Fawkes day. As a holiday, it just amazes me. What other country would celebrate a failed terrorist attack with such pomp? On Wednesday, the actual holiday, Green had fireworks in the garden and mulled wine in the bar. But the real show was on Saturday. That's when a group of us treked out to the South Parks, enjoyed a 1/2 hour fireworks extravaganza, and watch Guy Fawkes burn in effigy. For some inexplicable reason, Guy Fawkes was dressed as a Roman soldier. But I'm prepared to overlook it.

The only non-Englishy thing about my life recently has been having my brother John and his girlfriend Lisa come to visit. And the only reason that wasn't Englishy is because they, themselves, are not. They were here for 9 days and, despite lots of rain, it was a wonderful time. While in Oxford, we walked around the city, visited a few colleges, went to a few pubs, and even took a 45 minute trek to the Trout Pub. And, of course, John ate as much kebab van food as he could. I also got to visit them in London, where we went out to a fanatastic Brizillian place near Covant Garden on night, and then spent a Saturday walking around Notting Hill, the market there, and Covant Garden again. It was so nice and refreshing to have family in town, and to get out of the city a bit. It also was fantastic that I don't think I paid for a single meal while they were around (thanks guys!).

All-in-all, life is good. But it will be significantly better once it stops raining. Next on my Englishy check list: buy rainboots. Now.