From Jason Kottke:

The Daily Mail, with corroboration from the Times, has some information on what Marco Materazzi said to Zinedine Zidane to provoke the latter’s career ending headbutt in the 2006 World Cup final (more info on that here). They both hired lip readers to decipher Materazzi’s dialogue before the incident and this is allegedly what he said (translated from the Italian):

Hold on, wait, that one’s not for a nigger like you.

We all know you are the son of a terrorist whore.

So just fuck off.

So it might be fair to say that Materazzi got what he deserved, as did Zidane when he got sent off.

More here.

[Alex writes] Greetings All –

After having left the country for the semis, it was obviously my fault that the hosts faltered in the final minutes and were bounced by the Italians. So, my final weekend in Berlin wasn’t quite the scenario I would have liked, but it still provided some unbelievable scenes that truly crowned my month in Germany.

Who would have dreamt that an entire country would be cheering hysterically at the conclusion of the usually token Third Place match, but that’s exactly what happened on Saturday after Germany beat Portugal to claim 3rd place. Our local bar Schmidt’s was as packed as it was for the “meanigful” games and an entire nation celebrated as it they had won the whole tournament. In a sense, they did.

I can’t emphasize how positive this World Cup has been for the Germans. The Germans have been magnificent hosts – welcoming, curious and basking in their newly found cosmopolitanism – I think its a role that suits them and one that the rest of us should encourage. An entire nation has been rejuvenated and given a lesson in positive thinking by a group of underrated footballers and their 41-flamboyant coach with his imported training methods and sports psychologists. Every time Germany scored Klinsmann jumped up and down like a little kid at Xmas, infecting every German fan with his raw enthusiasm – he proved so cuddly that even Chancellor Angela Merkel bear-hugged him and pleaded that he stick around. Now, of course, this new love affair threatens to be cut short as Klinsi seriously contemplates leaving the Germany position to accept the US Soccer Federation’s offer to take over the helm of his adopted country (and only have a 30 minute drive to work as opposed to a 14-hour plane ride), thereby further exacerbating transatlantic tensions.

For the final itself there was only place I could be – well, um, two but I was not about to shell out 1,500 Euro for a Finals ticket on Berlin Craig’s List – at least not this time. However, I was determined to do the next best thing and watch the final at the Brandenburg Gate, preferably in the very first row of the mile-long, million-person capacity “Fan Fest.”

6 hours before kick-off I claimed my spot at the front row right in front of the gigantic screen. Now granted that this might seem a ridiculous amount of time to just to hang around, but I hadn’t come here for the month just to waste the final day at some Irish pub. I passed the time talking to fans from all around the world – I heard post-mortems about a certain overpaid Swede from the English, traded Italian diving stories with Aussies and engaged in some friendly rivalry joshing with Mexico fans (Dos-Zero, mi amigo!). And there were loads of French and Italian supporters, many who had actually just completed massive train journeys just to be in Berlin for the final; they were mixing it up amiably and taking pictures of one another draped in flags and those multi-colored wigs and top hats. Other entertainment was also provided – football jugglers, German cheerleaders and a cheesy rock and roll cover band that played all sorts of glorious trash (“Video killed the Radio Star”..at a World Cup Final??!!). But the highlight of the live entertainment was a surprise visit on the stage by former President Bill Clinton who was greeted with resounding approval as he charmingly delivered some nevertheless incoherent babble about “soccer helping the plight of African children.”

Most of you watched the game so I won’t bore you with a long recap. The French were awarded a soft penalty at the opening as ZZ bounced in the spotkick off the bar – that riled the Italians into action as they equalized on a Marco Materazzi header from one of Andrea Pirlo’s probing corners and then threatened to run-over the French for the rest of the first half. Les Bleus recovered in the second half and by extra time were firmly in control of the match, with Ribery and Zindane coming close to grabbing extra-time goals. Having gone 120 minutes against the Germans in the semis Italy seemed completely spent as they defended in numbers and clung on for penalties. As we have observed, penalty shootouts are cruel but not unfair. The Italians struck 5 superb penalties under the most extreme pressure imaginable while the French missed one – such is the margin of victory at the highest level. The final kick fell to the left-back Fabio Grosso, who added to his own cup legend that includes a last minute semi-final winner and a last-minute penalty-winning dive against Australia, sending all Italian fans into pure ecstasy and decisively erasing 24 years of Azzurri hurt.

Of course, aside from the drama of the penalty shootout the story of the match was Zidane who completely lost the plot and head-butted Materazzi 10 minutes from the end of extra time (rumor seems to be that Materazzi provoked him by calling him a “terrorist” or something). Out of character? Not really..Zidane has always had a dark side – while everyone remembers him orchestrating France’s 1998 triumph against Brazil, they forget that ZZ had been suspended in the group stages of that tournament for a similar red card when he was provoked by the Saudi Arabian team. Thus ends the career and legend of the best footballer of his generation..

Other circles closed last night. 16 years after the Germans had claimed their 3rd trophy on Italian soil, the Italians returned the favor to the hosts. David Trezeguet was the lone unsuccessful penalty taker, balancing out the euphoric Golden Goal that he scored in 2000 to break Italian hearts in the Euro final. The Italians, for the first time, won a World Cup penalty shootout, having suffered defeat in PKs in the 1990 semis at home, the 1994 final against Brazil and in 1998 against France. And just as in 1982 when Italian football was mired in scandal, the Azzurri victory came during a time in which 4 top Italian football clubs (of which 13 national squad members are members) are facing fines and relegation for match-fixing. Let’s hope that this World Cup triumph finally forces Italian officials to take real steps to clean up the insidious filth that is currently Italian domestic football.

But none of this mattered under a Berlin starry night as one million people started the final mega-party of the month with the symbol of German unification glowing in the background. Fireworks and confetti exploded over us, some Azzurri fans next to me proudly waved their replica trophies and I spent about 10 minutes making silly faces on the large screen as green, white and red lasers emanated from the stage. As I walked to meet up with some friends who were stuck further back, I made my way through waves of jubilating Italians and utterly despondent Frenchmen. Les Bleus were valiant runners-up and proved to all detractors who had dared to write them off (including me) that they, in fact, should be considered the dominant national team in world football of the last decade. As we left the laser shows and pulsating party at the fan zone we walked along the river to the illuminated beach bar by the recently finished main train station. Some parts of Berlin at night are just breathtaking and this area is one of them- a few Italians were so delighted that they threw themselves from various bridges, obviously unaware that the water in the Spree River is as about as dirty as a Juventus referee. After a couple of beers, I said a heart-felt good-bye to my wonderful German friends and made my way back one last time through the madness of the bars of OranienburgerStrasse.

With the end of the cup its now time for me to leave this 180 sq. meter flat in Berlin and go back to my comparative hut in New York city where I’ll try and do some work for a change. Another World Cup is history and we all should accept the triumph of the Azzurri with grace and congratulate the Italians – they are world champions and I will not tolerate any “ifs,” “ands,” or “buts.” They defended at a superior level and conquered all opponents; they comfortably strolled through one of the two “groups of death” in the first round, defeated the hosts in a tension-packed semi and kept their bottle when it counted in front of 1.5 billion worldwide viewers.

I want to thank all of you on 3QD for your emails and comments. Somehow, we’ll all have to manage to live for another four years without World Cup football, although – strictly-speaking, World Cup qualifying starts in just 24 months. In the meantime I’m going to dig out those Pavorotti CDs while getting ready in the morning, picture the look on Fabio Grosso’s face as he buried his penalty and finally appreciate the meaning of those last three words of Nessun Dorma:

“Vincero [I shall triumph], VIN-cero!..VIN-CEE-ROOO!”

Sughra Raza. Film Strip. 2001.

Acrylic on canvas.

Private collection of Ms.Nargis Raza, Dubai, UAE. Posted with permission.

For the few of you who missed it, here is video of the moment that will forever live in World Cup infamy:

Some people are claiming that Materazzi pinched Zidane’s nipple and then said something racist to him, and that made him lose his usual cool. It’s hard to tell what happened, exactly. No doubt Zidane will explain himself over the next days. In any case, this moment should not be allowed to overshadow his glorious career. I remain in shock, though.

UPDATE: There is slightly clearer video of the actual headbutt here.

UPDATE 2: This is from a profile in The Observer from April of this year:

One of the theories about Zidane as a player is that he is driven by an inner rage. His football is elegant and masterful, charged with technique and vision. But he can still erupt into shocking violence that is as sudden as it is inexplicable. The most famous examples of this include head butting Jochen Kientz of Hamburg during a Champions League match, when he was at Juventus in 2000 (an action that cost him a five match suspension) and his stomping on the hapless Faoud Amin of Saudi Arabia during the 1998 World Cup finals (this latter action was, strangely enough, widely applauded in the Berber community as Zidane’s revenge on hated Arab ‘extremists’).

Zidane’s first coaches at AS Cannes noticed quickly that he was raw and sensitive, eager to attack spectators who insulted his race or family. The priority of his first coach, Jean Varraud, was to get him to channel his anger and focus more on his game. According to Varraud, Zidane’s first weeks at Cannes were spent mainly on cleaning duty as a punishment for punching an opponent who had mocked his ghetto origins.

By the time he arrived at Juventus, in 1996, he had become known for his self-control and discipline, both on and off the pitch.

More here.

UPDATE 3: French fans praise Zidane despite red card

UPDATE 4: Zidane wins top award

UPDATE 5: Zidane and Contempt (Asad Raza in 3QD)

UPDATE 6: Zidane and Racism (Abbas Raza in 3QD)

UPDATE 7: Zidane apparently called “dirty terrorist”

Also related to the World Cup: as in 1998, the French team has become a symbol against the National Front and racism in Europe, in Counterpunch.

Thuram went on to say, “When we take to the field, we do so as Frenchmen. All of us. When people were celebrating our win, they were celebrating us as Frenchmen, not black men or white men. It doesn’t matter if we’re black or not, because we’re French. I’ve just got one thing to say to Jean Marie Le Pen. The French team are all very, very proud to be French. If he’s got a problem with us, that’s down to him but we are proud to represent this country. So Vive la France, but the true France. Not the France that he wants.” In addition, the immensely talented Henry has started an antiracist campaign called Stand Up Speak Up. Henry pushed his sponsor Nike to produce black and white intertwined armbands that demonstrate a commitment against racism. So far, they have sold more than five million. “That’s important in making the very real point that racism is a problem for everyone, a collective ailment,” Henry said to Time Magazine. “It shows that people of all colors, even adversaries on the pitch, are banding together in this, because we’re all suffering from it together.”

Henry’s campaign has resonance because Le Pen does not have the market cornered on racism in the sport. So-called fans, throwing banana peels and peanuts at star players of African descent, have plagued European soccer this past season. For much of the World Cup, such assaults did not occur. But before the June 27th game against Spain, the French coach, Raymond Domenech, said Spanish fans were “making monkey chants” as the French team left their bus. The incident evoked memories of an outrageous racist diatribe against Thierry Henry delivered by Spanish coach Luis Aragones to “inspire” his team before a match against France a couple years ago. When Franch defeated Spain last week, it was more just desserts for Aragones and another bitter pill for Le Pen.

In the Guardian, Adam Mars-Jones reviews Bill Buford’s Heat, on his adventures in Italian cuisine and Mario Batali’s kitchen.

Those of us who had dealings with Buford in his earlier incarnation as an editor didn’t find him short on testosterone but in his new context, he seems benign, virtually eunuchoid. Of the various culinary masters he meets in the book, only one has no temperament (the mentor of Tuscan butchery known as Il Maestro), and only one – that kitchen kamikaze, Marco Pierre White – has a genuine one, as opposed to the vice of using his moods to manipulate others…

[Batali’s] Babbo in New York continues to trade on the authenticity of that apprenticeship in Italy. What goes on in a restaurant is supposed to be the essence of cooking. It can seem more like the opposite of cooking. Buford isn’t writing an exposé, along the lines of Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential, but he might as well be. Something that starts out as a formal version of what an Italian grandmother might serve her family turns into an orgy of extravagance, hucksterism and dodgy hygienic practice.

Batali would play Bob Marley songs on the sound system, knowing the New York Times restaurant critic was a fan. He would berate staff who failed to recognise celebrities, who must be served first and given special treatment. To make a humble fish soup called cioppino, he would rummage through bins and chopping boards, collecting left overs (tomato pulp, carrot tops, onion skins), then price the dish at $29 and tell the waiters to sell the hell out of it or be fired. Short ribs prepared in advance, wrapped so tightly in plastic wrap and foil that they wouldn’t spurt sauce if stepped on, would keep in the walk-in fridge for up to a week.

We’ve noticed some of the individual pieces, but is there a growing trend? are serialzied novels making a come back?

[S]ince last September The New York Times Magazine has been publishing weekly episodes of genre fiction by Elmore Leonard, Patricia Cornwell, and now, Scott Turow, with Michael Chabon on deck. London’s The Observer has been publishing short fiction and a serial novel by Ronan Bennett titled Zugzwang, and Slate has started running installments of The Unbinding, a novel by Walter Kirn.

Gerald Marzorati, editor of the Times magazine, originated the so-called Funny Pages department to be a modern, 21st-century evocation of the Sunday supplements published in the Hearst papers at the turn of the last century. “The news is dark,” says Marzorati, “and the Funny Pages aren’t all that funny, but they are a distraction, a foil, a different flavor.”

The section comprises a comic, for many weeks drawn by Chris Ware and now by Jaime Hernandez, blandly funny essays, and excerpts from new novels by bestselling genre authors. (“This is not a vibrant time for short literary fiction,” asserts Marzorati.) At Risk, a Cornwell procedural starring a police detective with a “body that looks sculpted of creamy stone” ordered to investigate a 20-year-old murder at the behest of a svelte and ambitious district attorney, concluded disappointingly in the April 16 issue with a revelation lifted from stale Martha Stewart headlines. It is worth noting that the magazine waits for completed manuscripts before agreeing to publish, a precaution not taken in Victorian times of the serial novel, when the ink was still wet on the page on the new installments as they were being typeset. “That’s not the way to get the best writing,” Marzorati argues. “Today’s writers’ schedules are more frantic than Trollope’s was.”

Some rumor mongering before today’s final:

Zidane, France’s 34-year-old midfielder, has had a renaissance of sorts during the monthlong tournament in Germany. He had long said he would retire after the World Cup.

But there is a possibility he could soon join his compatriot Youri Djorkaeff in the midfield for the New York Red Bulls of Major League Soccer, according to several people involved in soccer in the New York area who were granted anonymity because of their unofficial relationship to the club.

Zidane’s contract with Real Madrid has expired, so he would not cost MLS a transfer fee. By contrast, Ronaldo, a Brazilian striker who was Zidane’s teammate in Spain, was reportedly offered a 10-year, $120 million deal by the Red Bulls and could command a transfer fee of more than $50 million.

From American Scientist:

Aspects of the question of autonomy are being taken up not just by philosophers but by investigators in cognitive science, genomics, biochemistry and the technology of bioinformatics. In all these fields, the presumed autonomy of the free human subject is being interrogated and complicated. The presumption of singularity that informs history is also being pressed hard by those working in computational science, animal intelligence, genetic engineering and evolutionary biology, all of which are making it harder to speak in traditional ways about the splendid self-sufficiency of the human species.

And creativity—the most splendid of all properties of human being, according to the humanities—is now being itself redefined by linguistics, cognitive science, neuroscience and even software development, which are assigning new meanings to this term, meanings that do not necessarily funnel back to the individual human being in a state of inspired frenzy.

More here.

Here we are, briefly, under the sun, one species among millions on a gorgeous planet in the remote provinces of the universe, our very existence a riddle. Of all the words we use to mask our ignorance, none has been more abused, none has given rise to more strife, none has rolled from the tongues of more charlatans than the name of God. Nor has any word been more often invoked as the inspiration for creativity, charity or love.

So what are we talking about when we talk about God? The geneticist Francis S. Collins bravely sets out to answer this question in light of his scientific knowledge and his Christian faith. Having found for himself “a richly satisfying harmony between the scientific and spiritual worldviews,” he seeks to persuade others that “belief in God can be an entirely rational choice, and that the principles of faith are, in fact, complementary with the principles of science.”

More here.

A new, possible explanation of the destruction of the Aztec Empire–don’t know if it will stand up. In Discover:

There seemed little reason to debate the nature of the plague: Even the Spanish admitted that European smallpox was the disease that devastated the conquered Aztec empire. Case closed.

Then, four centuries later, Acuña-Soto improbably decided to reopen the investigation. Some key pieces of information—details that had been sitting, ignored, in the archives—just didn’t add up. His studies of ancient documents revealed that the Aztecs were familiar with smallpox, perhaps even before Cortés arrived. They called it zahuatl. Spanish colonists wrote at the time that outbreaks of zahuatl occurred in 1520 and 1531 and, typical of smallpox, lasted about a year. As many as 8 million people died from those outbreaks. But the epidemic that appeared in 1545, followed by another in 1576, seemed to be another disease altogether. The Aztecs called those outbreaks by a separate name, cocolitzli. “For them, cocolitzli was something completely different and far more virulent,” Acuña-Soto says. “Cocolitzli brought incomparable devastation that passed readily from one region to the next and killed quickly.”

After 12 years of research, Acuña-Soto has come to agree with the Aztecs: The cocolitzli plagues of the mid-16th century probably had nothing to do with smallpox. In fact, they probably had little to do with the Spanish invasion. But they probably did have an origin that is worth knowing about in 2006.

Nasser Karimi in The Guardian:

The University of Chicago and the government of Iran have come together in a rare alliance against a U.S. court ruling that aims to compensate victims of a 1997 Jerusalem bombing by auctioning off a rare collection of Persian tablets.

A U.S. court previously found Iran responsible for supporting Hamas, which claimed responsibility for the 1997 bombing that killed five people and wounded 192 others, and ordered Tehran to pay the victims $423.5 million.

The only Iranian asset that U.S. authorities could get their hands on was a collection of ancient Persian tablets inscribed with one of the world’s oldest alphabets, dating to between 553 B.C. and 330 B.C. The clay artifacts have been housed at the University of Chicago’s Oriental Institute museum since the 1930s.

A federal judge ruled last month that the school must auction off the tablets, the proceeds of which would go to compensate the bombing victims. But the university said it would appeal.

In a letter to Iranian cultural authorities, the museum’s director called the tablets “an irreplaceable scholarly data set” that should not be subject to political battles.

More here.

“A ravishing new show demonstrates why the Italian romantic deserves to be plucked from his bohemian backwater, says Sarah Crompton.”

From The Daily Telegraph:

Amedeo Modigliani doesn’t get a mention in the National Gallery’s recently opened Rebels and Martyrs show – but, in terms of proving a point, he could have had a whole room to himself. For the Italian-born artist was the paradigm of the romantic bohemian, the outsider painter who pursued his own vision amid a swirl of drugs, alcohol and dissolution in the Paris of the early 20th century.

He died in penury and squalor in January 1920 at the age of 35, discovered by a neighbour in the final throes of tubercular meningitis, his bed strewn with bottles of alcohol and cans of sardines, his mistress Jeanne Hébuterne nursing him. She hadn’t thought to call a doctor, but her devotion to her lover was so great that, two days after his death, she threw herself backwards from a fifth-floor window. She was nine months pregnant with their second child.

More here, including a slide show.

Amartya Sen on global justice and globalization, in the Little Magazine.

The achievements of globalisation are visibly impressive in many parts of the world. We can hardly fail to see that the global economy has brought prosperity to quite a few different areas on the globe. Pervasive poverty and ‘nasty, brutish and short’ lives dominated the world a few centuries ago, with only a few pockets of rare affluence. In overcoming that penury, extensive economic interrelations as well as the deployment of modern technology have been extremely influential and productive.

It is also not difficult to see that the economic predicament of the poor across the world cannot be reversed by withholding from them the great advantages of contemporary technology, the well-established efficiency of international trade and exchange, and the social as well as economic merits of living in open rather than closed societies. People from very deprived countries clamour for the fruits of modern technology (such as the use of newly invented medicines, for example for treating AIDS); they seek greater access to the markets in the richer countries for a wide variety of commodities, from sugar to textiles; and they want more voice and attention from the rest of the world. If there is scepticism of the results of globalisation, it is not because suffering humanity wants to withdraw into its shell.

In fact, the pre-eminent practical issues include the possibility of making good use of the remarkable benefits of economic connections, technological progress and political opportunity in a way that pays adequate attention to the interests of the deprived and the underdog.[1] That is, I would argue, the constructive question that emerges from the anti-globalisation movements. It is, ultimately, not a question of rubbishing global economic relations, but of making the benefits of globalisation more fairly distributed.

In Harvard International Magazine, Korea’s Foreign Minister and candidate for the next Secretary-General of the United Nations Ban Ki-Moon:

Korea, as a matter of course, has been both a product and a proponent of multilateralism. Indeed, ever since its participation in the 1994 Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) as Asian Partner for Cooperation, the Republic of Korea (ROK) has been consistently striving to recreate the CSCE and its successor OSCE experience on the Korean peninsula. Late last year, while attending the OSCE Ministerial Council in Ljubljana, Slovenia, I emphasized the importance of strengthening consultation and cooperation with the OSCE. In recognizing the value of multilateralism, the ROK hopes to create a more stable and just peace with a long-standing outcome will be in accordance with international norms.

In addition to learning lessons from the OSCE model, greater attention should be given to the contribution that the United Nations, the global forum for multilateralism, can make toward promoting peace and prosperity on the Korean peninsula. From its birth under the auspices of the United Nations, the Republic of Korea has been a prime beneficiary and proponent of multilateralism. Founded in the same year as the United Nations, the Republic of Korea saw the inauguration of its first government following UN-sponsored elections. During the Korean War that lasted from 1950 to 1953, the United Nations lived up to the first test of its commitment to collective security by mobilizing the freedom-loving countries of the world to fight alongside ROK forces. The post-war reconstruction and the ensuing decades of rapid economic development of the country were also generously assisted by the UN system and other multilateral bodies. On a similar note, the ideals of human rights and democracy that the United Nations promotes were instrumental in sustaining and inspiring the Korean people during their struggle for democratization under successive authoritarian regimes.

David E. Cooper reviews The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A natural history of four meals by Michael Pollan, in the Times Literary Supplement:

Many of us have given a passing and grateful thought to those distant ancestors who, to their cost but our benefit, first sampled death-cap toadstools, deadly nightshade and other lethal impostors. And all of us give more than a passing thought to those of our contemporaries unfortunate enough to have eaten poultry or beef infected with E.coli 0157:H7, salmonella, or BSE. Their fates oblige the rest of us to weigh considerations of health against the convenience, price and pleasures of the foods we must decide among. Nor, of course, are issues of health confined to the risks of infection. On the World Health Organization’s definition, obesity – with its well-documented contributions to illness – is now the condition of over 60 per cent of Americans, with the British rapidly catching up. Disease, obesity, tooth decay and countless other food related threats to our health, however, are only one aspect of the wider problem announced in the title of Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma – just one of the matters at stake when we ask ourselves, “Fats or carbs? Three square meals or continuous grazing? Raw or cooked? Organic or industrial? Veg or vegan? Meat or mock meat?”. The dilemmas of what, when and how we should eat, urges Pollan, constitute a “big existential problem”, for the way we eat represents nothing less than “our most profound engagement with the natural world”.

More here.

From The Times:

“Are you getting enough of what makes you happy?” asked the band Hot Chocolate — and the desperate chorus, “What’s the matter with me?” is echoed millionfold by wistful souls who view happiness through somebody else’s window. Each day, it seems, a new study shows we are unhappier than ever, and that more and more people reach for the Prozac, wondering what went wrong with their lives. Now one of Britain’s elite schools is embarking on a pioneering educational experiment. Wellington College is to make space in the crowded timetable for lessons in positive psychology and the “science of wellbeing”. It intends to teach its clever and privileged youngsters — all destined, one can assume, for top jobs — how to become happy and fulfilled through the judicious application of positive psychology.

More here.

Campaigners are forming an Amphibian Survival Alliance, to raise $400m and carry through a rescue strategy. More than a third of all amphibian species are said to be in peril. In a policy statement issued in the journal Science, researchers blame a number of factors including habitat loss, climate change and disease. “We have a huge crisis but I’m confident we can produce some real results,” said Simon Stuart, from Conservation International (CI).

“The questions is: how many species will we lose? Are we going to lose hundreds before we can stabilise the situation or are we going to lose just tens,” he told the BBC News website. “Time is absolutely crucial, and to beat time we need human recourses and expertise, and finance.”

More here.

Excellent essay by our own J. M. Tyree in Agni:

Any Yankee who has spent more than a few hours in London knows that the sense of encroaching Americanism, so often attacked as the “blanding down” of the indigenous culture, is a bit of an illusion or superficial surface appearance. There’s no danger of anyone turning American anytime soon, and indeed one of the primary delusions of our current foreign policy—that everyone has a “little American,” in Slavoj Zizek’s apt phrase, waiting inside them, dying to experience the joys of unfettered capitalism and free market health care—comes to grief the moment you leave the country, even for Canada or Costa Rica. It is always embarrassing and baffling to see only the very strangest aspects of your culture promoted in other countries. I have in my mind the McDonald’s in Cambridge, which actually has a mock Greek temple made of plaster inside it, looking a bit like the sadly diminutive Stonehenge in the film This is Spinal Tap. Of course, it’s not news that the evidence of rampant Amerification is everywhere increasing—from the overnight mushrooming of the Starbucks chain to the more curious success of the U.S. bookstore Borders, and even the little-brother copycat Guantánamo Bay of the Belmarsh secret detention system.

The displeasure of empire involves the creeping physical sensation that no matter how far you travel you cannot escape yourself. This is, doubtless, true of everyone, but to be an American in this particular place and time makes it even worse. You keep running into little bits of yourself scattered over the entire world. Innocents Abroad? Not anymore. Essentially, the world had a raging teenage crush on America for awhile, but now they’ve gone off and dumped us. Our secret lycanthropy has been exposed by Iraq. We seem normal most of the month, but then the full moon arrives and we just go crazy and the carnage begins.

More here.

In news@Nature:

Vincent van Gogh is known for his chaotic paintings and similarly tumultuous state of mind. Now a mathematical analysis of his works reveals that the stormy patterns in many of his paintings are uncannily like real turbulence, as seen in swirling water or the air from a jet engine.

Physicist Jose Luis Aragon of the National Autonomous University of Mexico in Queretaro and his co-workers have found that the Dutch artist’s works have a pattern of light and dark that closely follows the deep mathematical structure of turbulent flow.

The swirling skies of The Starry Night, painted in 1889, Road with Cypress and Star (1890) and Wheat Field with Crows (1890) — one of the van Gogh’s last pictures before he shot himself at the age of 37 — all contain the characteristic statistical imprint of turbulence, say the researchers.

Their paper, for the technically minded, can be found here.