1) Books@Cafe, possibly the most popular and cliche expat hangout in Amman, has been shut down by the police for serving alcohol during Ramadan. One of the owners wrote about it on a citizen-journalism website called Haiber. Apparently the police tried to close them right at the beginning of Ramadan and failed because the restaurant is legally licensed ... now this past week, the police came back and shut them down under the authority of some new committee with a list of bogus complaints like cockroach infestations and public displays of intimacy. Personally, I've never seen any insects at Books besides mosquitos on the terrace sometimes.
This is a real shame because we all love Books and it was one of the few places where you could still have a meal with alcohol during Ramadan. Some other places have been closed too, according to the piece above. Beyond the inconvenience to us degenerate expats, this is also symptomatic of the public tendency here to obsess about things like alcohol, Zionist conspiracies in music festivals, foreign cartoons and boycotts, etc. rather than actual issues. As long as these types of things continue to easily rile the masses, the government will be more than happy to play along and smother any rational criticism about things that matter. It's not hard to close down restaurants.
2) When you live in a foreign country (or maybe it's just me) it's a constant struggle not to generalize. I play pick-up basketball every Friday night and yesterday a fight broke out. It was no different (if anything, less violent) than fights I've seen on basketball courts back home in the States. Yet my first instinct was frustration with "Jordanians" for being so willing to fight at the drop of a hat. Then today I was at the gym and (this happens every time I'm there) some huge gym rat finishes his set and throws the weights down so they roll twenty feet across the floor. Big man. And again my first thought was "Why do Jordanians have to lift weights like that!?"
Obviously these things have nothing to do with nationality or ethnicity - in fact, if I had to generalize, I'd say they're just facets of male stupidity. When something annoys me at home, I don't automatically attribute it to someone being "American" - because that's just stupid. But abroad, I constantly struggle not to generalize anything negative to the big "Other." And I wonder, if I as a wise, sensitive, enlightened traveling American think this way, can I really fault anyone back home for swallowing all the stereotypes?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
back to the blog
Well I sort of forgot about this blog, and I see from the stalker site monitor thing that traffic has slowed to a trickle. Apologies to the friends who occasionally check it and to the family friends who visited after my mother emailed them the link ...
I expect to write less frequently in this blog than before (clearly) and when I do it'll probably be more personal. In the spring this was pretty much just a place where I wrote down whatever random thoughts I had about news or politics or whatever. But I think the American friends who read this might be a little more interested just to know what Jordan is like, or what I get up to here. So we'll see.
1) My life right now: daily Arabic class in the morning until 1 with a couple hours of study in the afternoon. I'm looking to do some English tutoring for some money on the side, but most of my free time will be homework, studying, or hopefully going regularly to my delightfully upper-class Ammani gym.
I have two Arabic classes - one focused on grammar, and one on skills. The grammar class is my favorite - it's fun to learn the complex structures, which are logical and beautiful. This term's skills class is also promising - our first text is a Qu'ranic verse with accompanying commentary, much more interesting than the simple stories we had this summer. Maybe sometimes I will post about the Qu'ran as we study it - turns out, people, that it is not actually a terrorist manual.
2) My friend told me that the gym we go to was harassed by the secret police because they had an unframed picture of the king stuck on the fridge. Apparently his picture belongs on the wall and in a proper frame. I'm glad that the mukhabarat are keeping such a close eye on things; it makes me feel safer.
3) We finally hired a maid to clean the apartment. She's Bangladeshi and speaks no English at all. She's worked in Bahrain for four years and Jordan for another four, so she does speak Arabic. Sort of. On the phone it was impossible to understand her because she spoke so quickly and in such a high-pitched voice. We even had a Jordanian friend talk with her and HE couldn't understand her. Miraculously, we managed to get her in the neighborhood and I hunted down her taxi and brought her to the building. Communication face-to-face was only slightly easier. A Palestinian friend was staying with us and, being a native speaker, he was sometimes able to guess at what she was trying to say. She did a great job cleaning the apartment and we paid her 20 JD for 5 and a half hours of work - and she had originally quoted us 15 for 6. I have no idea how much maid service costs in the US but I think this is cheap.
(UPDATE) So I took this photos months ago so that people back home could see where I live. I have a really nice photo of the outside of our building, but my roommate thinks that if I post it online someone will hunt us down and kill us. I guess better safe than sorry.
The following show (in order) the street beneath our balcony, the homework table, the living room, and our kitchen:
I expect to write less frequently in this blog than before (clearly) and when I do it'll probably be more personal. In the spring this was pretty much just a place where I wrote down whatever random thoughts I had about news or politics or whatever. But I think the American friends who read this might be a little more interested just to know what Jordan is like, or what I get up to here. So we'll see.
1) My life right now: daily Arabic class in the morning until 1 with a couple hours of study in the afternoon. I'm looking to do some English tutoring for some money on the side, but most of my free time will be homework, studying, or hopefully going regularly to my delightfully upper-class Ammani gym.
I have two Arabic classes - one focused on grammar, and one on skills. The grammar class is my favorite - it's fun to learn the complex structures, which are logical and beautiful. This term's skills class is also promising - our first text is a Qu'ranic verse with accompanying commentary, much more interesting than the simple stories we had this summer. Maybe sometimes I will post about the Qu'ran as we study it - turns out, people, that it is not actually a terrorist manual.
2) My friend told me that the gym we go to was harassed by the secret police because they had an unframed picture of the king stuck on the fridge. Apparently his picture belongs on the wall and in a proper frame. I'm glad that the mukhabarat are keeping such a close eye on things; it makes me feel safer.
3) We finally hired a maid to clean the apartment. She's Bangladeshi and speaks no English at all. She's worked in Bahrain for four years and Jordan for another four, so she does speak Arabic. Sort of. On the phone it was impossible to understand her because she spoke so quickly and in such a high-pitched voice. We even had a Jordanian friend talk with her and HE couldn't understand her. Miraculously, we managed to get her in the neighborhood and I hunted down her taxi and brought her to the building. Communication face-to-face was only slightly easier. A Palestinian friend was staying with us and, being a native speaker, he was sometimes able to guess at what she was trying to say. She did a great job cleaning the apartment and we paid her 20 JD for 5 and a half hours of work - and she had originally quoted us 15 for 6. I have no idea how much maid service costs in the US but I think this is cheap.
(UPDATE) So I took this photos months ago so that people back home could see where I live. I have a really nice photo of the outside of our building, but my roommate thinks that if I post it online someone will hunt us down and kill us. I guess better safe than sorry.
The following show (in order) the street beneath our balcony, the homework table, the living room, and our kitchen:
Monday, July 07, 2008
people of the book
A few days ago my morning cab ride turned into a lecture about heresy and hellfire. The driver wore the hat, long beard, and ankle-length tunic favored by the especially religious. When he asked me how I was and I said tamam (perfect, or complete) he gave me a quick spiel about how nothing in this world was perfect. I.e., look forward to paradise. Then he asked me my religion and I gave him the "I'm Christian, but we're all brothers" line.
This provoked him to lecture me about how I was, in fact, an infidel who was going to hell. Muslims believe that they are the recipients of the final revelation, which fulfills and abrogates Christianity like Christians believe Christ fulfilled Judaism. Believers from all three faiths are "People of the Book" because the Torah, Christ's teachings, and the Qur'an are all considered revelations from God. To be Christian, therefore, is to be slightly less heretical than a Hindu or an atheist.
But as this cabbie argued, man kafara nabi kafara kul al-anbiya - whoever denies one prophet denies them all. To him, it doesn't do any good to believe in Christ if you reject Mohammed, even if Mohammad built on what Christ brought. The people-of-the-book club is not some sort of happy-go-lucky pluralism. I've heard plenty of Muslims say things like "oh, everyone has their own religion" and "God will be the judge in the end" ... but it turns out that, as far as the doctrine is concerned, Christians are still going to hell. Christians are allowed more earthly interactions with Muslims - for example, a Muslim man may marry a Christian woman, but he's forbidden to marry an atheist. But she'll still burn, unless she converts ...
Not sure what the point of this post is, except to repeat what everyone probably already knows: Muslims think Christians are going to hell, and Christians think Muslims are going to hell. Fortunately, only one out of every fifty cabdrivers thinks this is important enough to bring up during a seven minute drive. Thank God.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
humanitarian aid, anyone?
Months ago I wrote down some thoughts about my time working here, then promptly forgot to finish and post them. I never really blogged about work, since you never really know who reads these things. Still, better later than never.
I have mixed feelings about the United Nations. On the one hand, the UN provides a lot of help to people who would otherwise receive nothing. The UN gives a high-profile voice to those who would otherwise suffer quietly in wars and disasters. The UN is full of bright people who are passionate about helping others in need.
On the other hand, the UN is sometimes an inflexible bureaucracy that is frustrating to work with. The UN is a vehicle for many people who merely want lucrative, prestigious jobs. They love the politics of it - both the external wrangling with governments and other actors, and the politicking within or between agencies. Too often the UN is more concerned with protocol or self-justification than it is with actually getting things done. The talented and passionate people working there sometimes seem to be swimming against the organizational current.
Some of this is inherent in big humanitarian aid. Vast amounts of money are never easy to spend transparently or efficiently. In a way, it's a big business. Donors want to help people or promote their own image, so they're shopping for a good humanitarian product. They want to buy effective, visible projects. Agencies and NGOs try to show that they will put donors’ money to the best use possible.
Unfortunately this market isn't an entirely free, competitive one. The UN humanitarian agencies are mandated by international law and have a leg up on anyone else trying to get funding. The UN often demands to play its assigned role even when another actor is already fulfilling that role. This can degenerate into a marketing game, with each side trying to represent itself to the donors as more capable. This doesn't always mean developing real capacity - it can mean simply creating the illusion of capacity, or the hope that with new funding new capacities can be developed. In this situation, funds are used inefficiently because capacities are duplicated. Staff spend valuable time on this competition, time that could be spent implementing actual projects.
I was also troubled by the UN's organizational focus on, well, organization. I'm reading Richard Clarke's "Your Government Failed You" right now and one of his criticisms of the Homeland Security Department was that rather than focusing on solutions, its planners created programs to "work on" issues. All kinds of projects were started but never finished because of a focus on the means rather than the ends. I saw the UN work the same way: react to a new crisis by designing a new matrix to gather data, calling a meeting, distributing the matrix to partners, consolidating their inputs, recirculating the matrix, then calling a planning meeting to discuss potential actions based on the info. This was a very organized approach, but it was not conducive to action. NGO staff (and UN staff as well) work long hours and don't have time to constantly fill out matrices. Perhaps they wouldn't have minded, except that the process took so long and usually didn't produce much action that couldn't have been taken right away, without the matrices.
Of course the UN wants to gather information for press releases and to facilitate its role as coordinator of the humanitarian community. Someone has to do it. The Iraqi situation is particularly unfortunate: due to insecurity the bulk of UN staff are confined to Amman, and the movement of the few in Iraq is highly restricted. This situation intensifies the natural UN tendency to focus on organization and coordination, since it's all they can do. It's the international and national NGOs - mostly staffed by Iraqis - who are actually implementing the projects on the ground. In meetings the gulf between the UN and the NGO implementing community was palpable. UN agency staff would dominate discussions that often turned bureaucratic; NGO staff would speak much less often, contribute information to the coordination/planning efforts, and occasionally call for more action.
Again, much of this is definitely inherent in remote management (managing projects in Iraq from offices in Amman) and probably inherent in any massive aid operation. Many UN staffers work very hard to share information, coordinate efforts, and get projects done. Most of the individuals I observed are clearly passionate about their work and sensitive to the interests of NGO actors. Coordinating a group toward action, in any scenario, is tricky.
I wish that the UN operated along a perfect balance between planning and action, and that money was spent efficiently on projects to help as many people as possible. This just doesn't happen, and I don't know what the answer is. Far smarter and more experienced people than me have written whole books about why developmental and humanitarian aid never has quite the per dollar impact it should have. It's at least partly because the priority - helping people in need - is never really shared by everyone involved. Dishonest vendors and contractors overprice or siphon off funds; governments want to use the aid for political advantage; aid workers themselves can end up more concerned with justifying their jobs and competing for funds. Big money grows big bureaucracies that operate more and more sluggishly. Humans are selfish, and humanitarian aid is, at its heart, an unselfish endeavor. The fact that it succeeds at all is probably good enough.
I have mixed feelings about the United Nations. On the one hand, the UN provides a lot of help to people who would otherwise receive nothing. The UN gives a high-profile voice to those who would otherwise suffer quietly in wars and disasters. The UN is full of bright people who are passionate about helping others in need.
On the other hand, the UN is sometimes an inflexible bureaucracy that is frustrating to work with. The UN is a vehicle for many people who merely want lucrative, prestigious jobs. They love the politics of it - both the external wrangling with governments and other actors, and the politicking within or between agencies. Too often the UN is more concerned with protocol or self-justification than it is with actually getting things done. The talented and passionate people working there sometimes seem to be swimming against the organizational current.
Some of this is inherent in big humanitarian aid. Vast amounts of money are never easy to spend transparently or efficiently. In a way, it's a big business. Donors want to help people or promote their own image, so they're shopping for a good humanitarian product. They want to buy effective, visible projects. Agencies and NGOs try to show that they will put donors’ money to the best use possible.
Unfortunately this market isn't an entirely free, competitive one. The UN humanitarian agencies are mandated by international law and have a leg up on anyone else trying to get funding. The UN often demands to play its assigned role even when another actor is already fulfilling that role. This can degenerate into a marketing game, with each side trying to represent itself to the donors as more capable. This doesn't always mean developing real capacity - it can mean simply creating the illusion of capacity, or the hope that with new funding new capacities can be developed. In this situation, funds are used inefficiently because capacities are duplicated. Staff spend valuable time on this competition, time that could be spent implementing actual projects.
I was also troubled by the UN's organizational focus on, well, organization. I'm reading Richard Clarke's "Your Government Failed You" right now and one of his criticisms of the Homeland Security Department was that rather than focusing on solutions, its planners created programs to "work on" issues. All kinds of projects were started but never finished because of a focus on the means rather than the ends. I saw the UN work the same way: react to a new crisis by designing a new matrix to gather data, calling a meeting, distributing the matrix to partners, consolidating their inputs, recirculating the matrix, then calling a planning meeting to discuss potential actions based on the info. This was a very organized approach, but it was not conducive to action. NGO staff (and UN staff as well) work long hours and don't have time to constantly fill out matrices. Perhaps they wouldn't have minded, except that the process took so long and usually didn't produce much action that couldn't have been taken right away, without the matrices.
Of course the UN wants to gather information for press releases and to facilitate its role as coordinator of the humanitarian community. Someone has to do it. The Iraqi situation is particularly unfortunate: due to insecurity the bulk of UN staff are confined to Amman, and the movement of the few in Iraq is highly restricted. This situation intensifies the natural UN tendency to focus on organization and coordination, since it's all they can do. It's the international and national NGOs - mostly staffed by Iraqis - who are actually implementing the projects on the ground. In meetings the gulf between the UN and the NGO implementing community was palpable. UN agency staff would dominate discussions that often turned bureaucratic; NGO staff would speak much less often, contribute information to the coordination/planning efforts, and occasionally call for more action.
Again, much of this is definitely inherent in remote management (managing projects in Iraq from offices in Amman) and probably inherent in any massive aid operation. Many UN staffers work very hard to share information, coordinate efforts, and get projects done. Most of the individuals I observed are clearly passionate about their work and sensitive to the interests of NGO actors. Coordinating a group toward action, in any scenario, is tricky.
I wish that the UN operated along a perfect balance between planning and action, and that money was spent efficiently on projects to help as many people as possible. This just doesn't happen, and I don't know what the answer is. Far smarter and more experienced people than me have written whole books about why developmental and humanitarian aid never has quite the per dollar impact it should have. It's at least partly because the priority - helping people in need - is never really shared by everyone involved. Dishonest vendors and contractors overprice or siphon off funds; governments want to use the aid for political advantage; aid workers themselves can end up more concerned with justifying their jobs and competing for funds. Big money grows big bureaucracies that operate more and more sluggishly. Humans are selfish, and humanitarian aid is, at its heart, an unselfish endeavor. The fact that it succeeds at all is probably good enough.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
baaack in jordan.
Well, I'm back. This new apartment is sweet ... probably my favorite apartment out of the 6 or so I've had in Amman. 3rd floor balcony, great location in Shmeisani - 5 minute walk from cafe-lined Culture Street, my bank, a gym, a big grocery store ... also it turns out that cab rides are much cheaper and quicker when you live in a central location. Who knew?
Also, I just met our landlord. He's a rich retiree with a bad back, but he used to be a civil engineer for the Ministry of Transport. He spent a couple of decades in Saudi and also managed the construction of Queen Alia Airport. I've already learned a lot from him. For example, I've always wondered why the Hijazi Railroad, which the Ottomans built in 1908 (i think), sits idle. Wouldn't a railway from Mecca to Damascus be boost for the economy? Not to mention the fact that I would much rather ride a modern train up to Damascus than hire a crowded service cab.
Well, it turns out that in 1979 the Syrians, Jordanians, and Saudis did in fact meet to discuss the completion of the railway. Our landlord was on the committee and the Saudi Secretary of Transport (his good friend from his days in Saudi) came up to talk it over. The Jordanians and Syrians were keen, but it turned out that the Saudis basically "wanted it to fail."
Why didn't the Saudis want the railroad built? He attributed it to old suspicions between the Saudi and Hashemite families and Saudi desire to maintain very tight control over their borders. He also said that the Saudis, a once poor desert-dwelling people turned immensely rich, are not exactly wild about spreading the wealth. They already give huge sums of money all over the Arab world, especially in Jordan and Lebanon. (He also said that they gave a lot of money for Katrina ... interesting). They've never been particularly enthusiastic about Arab unity, since they're the richest to begin with. I guess that might also have something to do with Nasser's Arab unity spiel being so outspokenly anti-monarchy. Anyway, they were wary of a railway line that would bind the three countries closer together, generate more economic growth for Jordan and Syria, and lessen Saudi control over their borders and interior.
I have a feeling that I'll be having many educational conversations with this guy. For example, while he worked in Saudi he owned a villa and a swimming pool and liked to party . . . we started talking about Wahhabism/Salafism, and he told me used to drink heavily with a grandson of Muhammad bin Abdel Wahhab! I guess not all Wahhab's descendants are as puritanical as he would've liked them to be.
Monday, June 16, 2008
wow ...
I can't believe that my six weeks here are almost over. Here, my life in Jordan seems dreamlike and unreal - much the way that American life feels to me while I'm over there. I think this isn't unusual for people who live split across cultures. It's not that I forget - I'm almost daily emailing or messaging people back home. It's the daily routine that seems distant, and the look and feel of the other place.
I don't feel any "culture shock" but sometimes, if I stop to think, I feel a vague unease ... this (America) is my home, but the life I'm trying to live is somewhere else. The past month I've thought a lot about home, family, and the processes by which we build new lives. The people I love most are living, changing, growing up. Three siblings are now in university and three are at home. All of them are, or are rapidly becoming, startlingly unique, vibrant, intelligent, beautiful people. I see no good way to build my own life and still feel properly invested in theirs - biannual trans-oceanic flights, email, Skype, and facebook seem like cheap and awkward substitutes.
This summer is yet another phase of transition - leaving the job, living the (Arabic) student life again, and hopefully tricking one or two magazines into publishing me. I'm excited, not least because the lease on our apartment runs until next February. I've almost forgotten what it's like to live in one place for more than a handful of months.
***
San Francisco is a really beautiful city*. It's more than just the stunning views of the bay, the unique microclimates, the thriving downtown, or the carefully conserved nature parks just outside the city. It's a different face of America for me: a racial/ethnic kaleidoscope, a hub of technological innovation, the Pacific edge of America's historical frontier. Dad observed that Europeans visit California more than anywhere else in the US - nothing in America can really impress them with its age, but they're fascinated by the Californian ethos and landscapes. Maybe familiarity has bred contempt and I'm selling the Midwest short ... and to be sure, actually living in San Francisco might quickly burst the idealistic bubble I thought up during my two week visit. While my parents were house-hunting there last year, the realtor complimented my mother on how well she was handling things: "Most wives are in tears by now." Apparently some women weep when they realize how little their money can buy.
Posts on this thing will be more regular back once I'm back in Jordan, although it's always a little tricky to decide what to write, especially given the readership. Sometimes I doubt I can really write anything that will simultaneously interest me, family, friends from home, expat friends "out there," Jordanian friends, and the surprisingly large number of anonymous arrivals via Google. Still, it's worth a try.
* Photos from San Fran are on Facebook. I don't feel like struggling with Blogger pic formatting just now.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
back in the u.s.a.
Well I've now been home for slightly over a week. Some thoughts about that, and other things ...
1) I think I love Americans. When arriving back here I always feel a strong affection for the regular folks who speak my language, share my formative American experiences, and live their American lives. Whether it's watching people hurry by in the airport or playing pickup ball with strangers at the Y, I just feel at home around them.
This is partly a reaction to my new life in a place where the language barrier constrains my interaction with regular people. The population in Jordan is also quite ethnically homogeneous - in the street I'll either see various shades of Arab or the obviously out-of-place expat. Arriving in America is like looking down a cultural kaleidoscope - faces and features from all over the world, but they all speak the same language and accent and share the same social experience.
Not that I'm going overboard with the idealization. The part of America that is most "home" for me is rich Mid-American suburbia, itself shockingly homogeneous racially and income-wise. Still, driving around I feel more than ever that this affluent subdivision and Starbucks lifestyle is a blessing and not an entitlement. By accident of birth, I enjoy opportunities that only a fraction of the world's population can attain: a comfortable life and the freedom to leave it to explore the horizon.
I wish that more American suburbanites would travel abroad. Really I just wish that they were less globally apathetic. I'm proud to be an American but I'm not proud of what America does in the world ... I think my people's complacency might be the most costly complacency around at the moment, at least in human terms.
2) On the topic of human cost, things aren't going too well in Lebanon at the moment. It looks like Hizbullah has beaten March 14th in the war of the streets. Neither side appears to be playing particularly nicely. This latest turn to violence is just another tragedy for the Lebanese people, since it was only two summers ago that their country was pulverized by Israeli bombs. I still haven't visited Lebanon, but by all accounts it's a lovely country with beautiful people. It's a horrible situation, even when viewed from a distance on TV news.
3) Speaking of TV news, American TV is just awful. I've been spending considerable time in front of the tube because the NBA playoffs are on. Mixed in with the commercials are plugs for local news channels. Does anyone really want to watch special investigative reporting about rain-sodden turf or the threat sandals and flip-flops may pose to your children? I'm not sure which is sadder: the fact that news anchors have to beg viewers to tune in, or that apparently whatever measure they use has found that completely inane reporting sells better than real news.
1) I think I love Americans. When arriving back here I always feel a strong affection for the regular folks who speak my language, share my formative American experiences, and live their American lives. Whether it's watching people hurry by in the airport or playing pickup ball with strangers at the Y, I just feel at home around them.
This is partly a reaction to my new life in a place where the language barrier constrains my interaction with regular people. The population in Jordan is also quite ethnically homogeneous - in the street I'll either see various shades of Arab or the obviously out-of-place expat. Arriving in America is like looking down a cultural kaleidoscope - faces and features from all over the world, but they all speak the same language and accent and share the same social experience.
Not that I'm going overboard with the idealization. The part of America that is most "home" for me is rich Mid-American suburbia, itself shockingly homogeneous racially and income-wise. Still, driving around I feel more than ever that this affluent subdivision and Starbucks lifestyle is a blessing and not an entitlement. By accident of birth, I enjoy opportunities that only a fraction of the world's population can attain: a comfortable life and the freedom to leave it to explore the horizon.
I wish that more American suburbanites would travel abroad. Really I just wish that they were less globally apathetic. I'm proud to be an American but I'm not proud of what America does in the world ... I think my people's complacency might be the most costly complacency around at the moment, at least in human terms.
2) On the topic of human cost, things aren't going too well in Lebanon at the moment. It looks like Hizbullah has beaten March 14th in the war of the streets. Neither side appears to be playing particularly nicely. This latest turn to violence is just another tragedy for the Lebanese people, since it was only two summers ago that their country was pulverized by Israeli bombs. I still haven't visited Lebanon, but by all accounts it's a lovely country with beautiful people. It's a horrible situation, even when viewed from a distance on TV news.
3) Speaking of TV news, American TV is just awful. I've been spending considerable time in front of the tube because the NBA playoffs are on. Mixed in with the commercials are plugs for local news channels. Does anyone really want to watch special investigative reporting about rain-sodden turf or the threat sandals and flip-flops may pose to your children? I'm not sure which is sadder: the fact that news anchors have to beg viewers to tune in, or that apparently whatever measure they use has found that completely inane reporting sells better than real news.
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