Selling out
[...]
Two hours long meeting worse than going through ten gas chambers. Iranian Academy of Talents. A distinguished institution associated with such notable universities as the University of Baku, Azerbaidjan and Georgia State University. Talking points: the importance of education for world peace. The importance of Iranian talents to return to Iran. The protection of Iranian students in the US from being assaulted by American police. The greatness of the Iranian nation two thousand years ago.
I’m handed copies of letters in Azerbadjanian written by the Azerbadjanian Ambassador to Iran addressing the all important issue of world peace. Also a diploma:
“In the name of God, the beneficent [sic!], the mercifull [sic!]
Dear Mr Altimer [sic!]
We sincerely want to thank you for coming to the Academy of Iranian Elites. Our constant invitation and friendship for being in the areas of global peace hopefully will be accepted by you [sic!]. It will be deeply appreciated if you mention about this Academy to you friends and corporates [sic!].
Sincerely,
Prof. Dr. XXXX XXXXXXX”
About to shake hands in appreciation of my new diploma, my eyes incredulously register the fast approach of the Dean’s lips. Paralyzed, stunned, I let myself be violated Soviet-style. Kisses on either cheek. Oh, the tepid, soft, revolutionary stubbles of a Central Asian Apparatchik! And all in the name of Global Peace...
The meeting proved to be the turning point for our activities in Iran. The revolution became a travesty the instant I fastened our pin – the flag – to the Dean’s lapel. To our complete and utter surprise, our friends, our cadres, broke into violent applause when the deed was done. I couldn’t help but join in. We – the fathers of the future – had become claqueurs of the frauds of yesterday. A complete sell-out.
[...]
Three hours long play in Farsi with Ayatollahs, Khomeni and Khamenei, on either side of stage staring silently out at the audience. It’s as entertaining as strolling through 8 gas chambers. Raymond Carver -- Iranian style. Bob is in the seat in front of me, expectant, thrilled, fixed by the visage of his Iranian diva on stage. He is on his second date in Iran. Traitor!
[...]
We left Europe 42 days ago. We’ve tried to stay true to the script we worked out with Hollywood consultants. But – as we descend into reality - it is increasingly difficult to ascertain on the level of actor where we are on the level of structure, in terms of the larger narrative span. It has been all about playing with reality – just until you realize that all along in effect reality has been playing with you. Also – you work out the script in close sync with the media – the way the world is narrated in the media; sitting there in front of your laptop far removed from the analogue world -- then you enter reality, the world outside the media – the offline world – and then everything becomes totally different. The causal chains are different here. The analogue world knows nothing of its own representation and narration in the mediatic system. On the mediatic level Iranians are just as far removed from Iran as a New Yorker reading about Iran. On the level of media, we all exist in the same abstraction. There doesn’t seem to be any links between the analogue and digital world. This is why the aim we took months ago could turn out to be so off-target. Maybe a truly cosmopolitan world should be founded on the level of media – in a complete abstraction – then we leave the analogue world, the world of friction, the world of necessity to the hyenas and the vultures.
I miss the swim in the Pacific.
Two hours long meeting worse than going through ten gas chambers. Iranian Academy of Talents. A distinguished institution associated with such notable universities as the University of Baku, Azerbaidjan and Georgia State University. Talking points: the importance of education for world peace. The importance of Iranian talents to return to Iran. The protection of Iranian students in the US from being assaulted by American police. The greatness of the Iranian nation two thousand years ago.
I’m handed copies of letters in Azerbadjanian written by the Azerbadjanian Ambassador to Iran addressing the all important issue of world peace. Also a diploma:
“In the name of God, the beneficent [sic!], the mercifull [sic!]
Dear Mr Altimer [sic!]
We sincerely want to thank you for coming to the Academy of Iranian Elites. Our constant invitation and friendship for being in the areas of global peace hopefully will be accepted by you [sic!]. It will be deeply appreciated if you mention about this Academy to you friends and corporates [sic!].
Sincerely,
Prof. Dr. XXXX XXXXXXX”
About to shake hands in appreciation of my new diploma, my eyes incredulously register the fast approach of the Dean’s lips. Paralyzed, stunned, I let myself be violated Soviet-style. Kisses on either cheek. Oh, the tepid, soft, revolutionary stubbles of a Central Asian Apparatchik! And all in the name of Global Peace...
The meeting proved to be the turning point for our activities in Iran. The revolution became a travesty the instant I fastened our pin – the flag – to the Dean’s lapel. To our complete and utter surprise, our friends, our cadres, broke into violent applause when the deed was done. I couldn’t help but join in. We – the fathers of the future – had become claqueurs of the frauds of yesterday. A complete sell-out.
[...]
Three hours long play in Farsi with Ayatollahs, Khomeni and Khamenei, on either side of stage staring silently out at the audience. It’s as entertaining as strolling through 8 gas chambers. Raymond Carver -- Iranian style. Bob is in the seat in front of me, expectant, thrilled, fixed by the visage of his Iranian diva on stage. He is on his second date in Iran. Traitor!
[...]
We left Europe 42 days ago. We’ve tried to stay true to the script we worked out with Hollywood consultants. But – as we descend into reality - it is increasingly difficult to ascertain on the level of actor where we are on the level of structure, in terms of the larger narrative span. It has been all about playing with reality – just until you realize that all along in effect reality has been playing with you. Also – you work out the script in close sync with the media – the way the world is narrated in the media; sitting there in front of your laptop far removed from the analogue world -- then you enter reality, the world outside the media – the offline world – and then everything becomes totally different. The causal chains are different here. The analogue world knows nothing of its own representation and narration in the mediatic system. On the mediatic level Iranians are just as far removed from Iran as a New Yorker reading about Iran. On the level of media, we all exist in the same abstraction. There doesn’t seem to be any links between the analogue and digital world. This is why the aim we took months ago could turn out to be so off-target. Maybe a truly cosmopolitan world should be founded on the level of media – in a complete abstraction – then we leave the analogue world, the world of friction, the world of necessity to the hyenas and the vultures.
I miss the swim in the Pacific.
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