PLAYING CHICKEN, OR TURKEY

I know it has been much too much time since last I posted here. I've been out of town and working and the dog ate my homework and my computer still kinda sucks and I can't think up any more excuses now, but I will. I offer this post tonight, and there will be more baby pictures soon.

About ten years ago, I received improv training from the famed Groundlings troupe in Los Angeles. And when I say, "received training" I really mean "paid them a bundle of cash for 12 classes." So anyway, in my improv classes I learned that you must never deny your scene partner. For instance, if you're in a scene and someone says you're in a gas station, you can't say, "No, we're not in a gas station, we're at McDonalds."

But sometimes you have to do the exactly the opposite of what your scene partner says. If someone says, "don't you dare pick up that gun," you'd better pick up the gun. It's just one of the rules of the game.

With that in mind, you can imagine my dismay when I read the headline, Gates Warns Turkey Not to Invade Iraq. First off, we've already invaded Iraq, so it seems selfish to deny another country the sort of fun we've been having over the past four years. But most importantly, I fear that Turkey may feel like they're in an improv scene with American as its partner.

For the past few years, countries seem to enjoy doing the opposite of what we tell them. We once told Iran to reject extremism, so they elect the guy in the jacket whose name I can't pronounce. I think we also warned them not to start a nuclear program, too. We're also fond of telling Latin American countries to stop producing drugs, but they still do.

So I'm unhappy about Gates' advice to Turkey because I'd like to take a vacation to Istanbul next year, but Julie has expressly forbidden me from planning any trips to any countries currently at war (America excepted). But now that Turkey has been told not to invade Iraq, their tanks are probably pulling into Kurdistan as you read this.

It seems to me that the US should simply accept the fact that the world sees us as its improv partner (it sounds nicer than saying that they all hate us) and use a little reverse psychology. If we told Turkey that it would make America happy if they invaded Iraq, you know they wouldn't do it. It's just like when your parents start listening to your CDs and like them. Somehow your music just doesn't feel as cool. If we invited Turkey to join the Coalition of the Willing (TM) I bet they'd disband their entire army.

And as an American, and an ugly one at that, I'd like to make a personal plea: embrace extremism, be mean to your tourists, and whatever you do, don't not pick up that gun.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, IRAQ WAR!

First off, apologies for neglecting this space for the past two weeks. My schedule hasn’t permitted much writing lately, but there is “product in the pipeline” as the “industry types” “say.” For now, I offer up something I wrote on the eve of the Iraq war. I was in Washington DC interning at CNN when the war started. (At the time, I didn’t want to name the organization, for obvious reasons.)

With the war’s birthday just past, it seems a good time to revisit.

Originally printed March 12, 2003

Well, it’s final, we’re going to war. Technically, it’s not really final. The United Nations will do some voting and the French will stomp their feet and the protesters will do some marching, but it’s really a moot point. We’re going to war.

If you saw President Bush’s press conference last Thursday, he said the final decision had not yet been made about military action against Iraq. But he smirked every time he said it, so you knew he was lying. The decision has been made, the troops are in place, the news stations have their cameras in the best locations. We’re going to war.

At Unnamed News Organization (hereafter referred to as UNO), the 24-hour news channel where I’m interning, we’re in full war mode. After Thursday’s presidential news conference, (in which the Washington Post described Bush as appearing “medicated”), several UNO reporters were informed they were leaving for Kuwait. Plans were unveiled for elongated work schedules once the war begins. Somewhere, someone was composing the theme song for the new war.

Those who are to remain in Washington have been issued protective suits in case of chemical attack. We interns were not issued protective suits; we perform the important “canary in the coal mine” function. If the interns keep dropping dead, the reporters know it’s not safe to take off the chemical suits.

People in the newsroom disagree about just when the war will start. The U.N. vote on the second resolution is on March 17, and most expect the war will start shortly after that. A few reporters think the United States will try to “shock and awe” Iraq by striking a day or so before March 17. One guy actually thinks we’re just posturing and we’re not going to war at all. UNO is putting him on a plane to Kuwait next week.

Those of us in the prestigious UNO intern corps are divided about the war. Most interns at UNO are the kind of bleeding-heart lefty peaceniks you’d expect to find in journalism. As you can imagine, most of us oppose the war. But there’s one catch: Being a news intern during a war looks great on your resume, so we all have something to gain by the U.S. going to war. That’s right, if our government kills thousands of people on the other side of the world, it will help us advance professionally.

This, I’m learning, is one of the great dilemmas of journalism. The worse things are, the better your job is. When there is relative peace and there’s not much going on, journalists have to do stories on stupid things like El Nino or what the president does with his cigars. Journalists make their reputations covering war, disasters, and mass murders. The worse the story, the better it is professionally for the journalist, assuming the story doesn’t personally affect the reporter.

So the march to war is on, and the careers of many journalists may be made or ruined by what happens in the next month. Back in the UNO newsroom, we’re taking bets on what the war will be called. Some think it will be called the “Iraq War,” while others figure the war will spread and be named the “Middle East War.” I nose into the debate by saying it will be called “Gulf War II: Electric Boogaloo.”

After everyone stops laughing at that hilarious joke I’ve told 1,000 times before, someone offers another possible name: World War III.

We all get uncomfortable and go back to our desks.