Train
This morning I dreamt that I was on the wrong train, it wouldn't take me where I wanted to go. (In the dream I knew where I wanted to go :) What a pain, taking another train and going all the way again.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Bubble
there are -in fact- three things that save us: 1. we don't know what people say behind our back. 2. we can never know exactly what we are giving up, missing out on by choosing one thing over another 3. we get to hang out with people who are similar to us. who have similar interests, who care about similar things, who have similar abilities. usually we don't have to deal with those who are far smarter or stupider than us, or much cooler than us, or don't care about what we care about. the only way to feel important, special, non-anonymous.
there are -in fact- three things that save us: 1. we don't know what people say behind our back. 2. we can never know exactly what we are giving up, missing out on by choosing one thing over another 3. we get to hang out with people who are similar to us. who have similar interests, who care about similar things, who have similar abilities. usually we don't have to deal with those who are far smarter or stupider than us, or much cooler than us, or don't care about what we care about. the only way to feel important, special, non-anonymous.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
"Neoliberal Populism"
the depoliticization of economics
I went to two intellectually stimulating lectures in a row: Yesterday Professor Mine Eder's talk on the political economic features of the AKP government in Turkey, and today a panel discussion on why economics matters. I thought they had a common point: That economic policy-making is increasingly escaping the political realm, and neoliberal economics is being elevated to an undebatable law of nature. Technocrats, who usually have an academic background, understand this law and devise policies that are compatible with it. Maybe the Economist is its holy book.
Is it because the alternatives to neoliberalism have failed? Is it because there really is one way to manage the economy well, and economics is actually a positive science? The alternatives that have been tried so far were actually lapses in thinking, mistakes that were necessary to find the right way in the end? And now we have learned from our mistakes and discovered the truth?
While I was studying economics, I thought politics was so frustrating, each group pushed for their interests and wanted to gain undeserved rents, hurting the whole economy and leading to suboptimal outcomes. So it is better to leave economic policy making to technocrats who can see the big picture and who are aware of the constraints. Who wants to think about these things, anyway, they are too complicated. We trust economists just like we trust doctors, engineers. After all, we are quite happy to devolve our decision-making powers when we visit a doctor.
Eder pointed out that in Turkey economic considerations come after religiosity and ethnicity in voting behaviour.
Hence the "neoliberal populism", a new breed in political economy. Governments cannot be true populists anymore, because their dependence on international capital markets sets boundaries on how much they can spend. So the elected governments and the people alike submit to the "rule of economics" as prescribed and defended by the technocrats. Ruling and opposition parties alike accept it as a fact of life, and if not already there, set it as a common goal to be reached. Political debates remain confined to cultural and religious issues, lifestyle choices - because everybody more or less agrees on the general direction economic policy making should take. Nobody dares (or cares to) offer an alternative.
In the Turkish case, the AKP government wants to defeat the secular elites and return the power to the people. But when workers want to take to streets to protest the Social Security Reform, the prime minister declares all of a sudden that workers should leave policy making to those who know better than them. Isn't this a new kind of elitism? While the government argues that the powers of the military and the judiciary should be curbed in the name of democracy, a group of economic institutions mushroom largely free from political influence (of course clientelistic relationships exist between the governments and the officials in these institutions, but the goal is personal benefit rather than a re-orientation of economic policy): Central Bank, Privatisation Agency, Capital Markets Agency, Energy Markets Regulatory Agency, Competition Authority... They know better than us, so we let them decide.
Aren't the cycles of IMF intervention akin to military coups? They come in when elected governments mess up. Is output legitimacy enough to justify the lack of input legitimacy?
The economics student in me knows that this is probably the best way. But I also realize that it is not that simple: the grievences in some segments of the society should not be overlooked. In fact, Martin Wolf pointed out today that usually distributive concerns, perceptions of injustice in allocation of resources and income lie behind ethnic and religious divides, civil unrest.
So maybe economic considerations do in fact affect voting behaviour. Religious and ethnic identities are magnified and become a source of division and hatred when people are not satisfied with their standards of living, when they are not well-educated, when they think they don't receive their due share of resources and power.
the depoliticization of economics
I went to two intellectually stimulating lectures in a row: Yesterday Professor Mine Eder's talk on the political economic features of the AKP government in Turkey, and today a panel discussion on why economics matters. I thought they had a common point: That economic policy-making is increasingly escaping the political realm, and neoliberal economics is being elevated to an undebatable law of nature. Technocrats, who usually have an academic background, understand this law and devise policies that are compatible with it. Maybe the Economist is its holy book.
Is it because the alternatives to neoliberalism have failed? Is it because there really is one way to manage the economy well, and economics is actually a positive science? The alternatives that have been tried so far were actually lapses in thinking, mistakes that were necessary to find the right way in the end? And now we have learned from our mistakes and discovered the truth?
While I was studying economics, I thought politics was so frustrating, each group pushed for their interests and wanted to gain undeserved rents, hurting the whole economy and leading to suboptimal outcomes. So it is better to leave economic policy making to technocrats who can see the big picture and who are aware of the constraints. Who wants to think about these things, anyway, they are too complicated. We trust economists just like we trust doctors, engineers. After all, we are quite happy to devolve our decision-making powers when we visit a doctor.
Eder pointed out that in Turkey economic considerations come after religiosity and ethnicity in voting behaviour.
Hence the "neoliberal populism", a new breed in political economy. Governments cannot be true populists anymore, because their dependence on international capital markets sets boundaries on how much they can spend. So the elected governments and the people alike submit to the "rule of economics" as prescribed and defended by the technocrats. Ruling and opposition parties alike accept it as a fact of life, and if not already there, set it as a common goal to be reached. Political debates remain confined to cultural and religious issues, lifestyle choices - because everybody more or less agrees on the general direction economic policy making should take. Nobody dares (or cares to) offer an alternative.
In the Turkish case, the AKP government wants to defeat the secular elites and return the power to the people. But when workers want to take to streets to protest the Social Security Reform, the prime minister declares all of a sudden that workers should leave policy making to those who know better than them. Isn't this a new kind of elitism? While the government argues that the powers of the military and the judiciary should be curbed in the name of democracy, a group of economic institutions mushroom largely free from political influence (of course clientelistic relationships exist between the governments and the officials in these institutions, but the goal is personal benefit rather than a re-orientation of economic policy): Central Bank, Privatisation Agency, Capital Markets Agency, Energy Markets Regulatory Agency, Competition Authority... They know better than us, so we let them decide.
Aren't the cycles of IMF intervention akin to military coups? They come in when elected governments mess up. Is output legitimacy enough to justify the lack of input legitimacy?
The economics student in me knows that this is probably the best way. But I also realize that it is not that simple: the grievences in some segments of the society should not be overlooked. In fact, Martin Wolf pointed out today that usually distributive concerns, perceptions of injustice in allocation of resources and income lie behind ethnic and religious divides, civil unrest.
So maybe economic considerations do in fact affect voting behaviour. Religious and ethnic identities are magnified and become a source of division and hatred when people are not satisfied with their standards of living, when they are not well-educated, when they think they don't receive their due share of resources and power.
Friday, May 16, 2008
a new concept
"it will be fun." the word sounded stupid in his mouth. When had he ever had "fun"? Or Wavey, chapped face already set in the lines of middle age, the encroaching dryness about her beyond stove heat and wind? What was it, anyway? Both of them the kind who stood with forced smiles watching other people dance, spin on barstools, throw bowling balls. Having fun. But Quoyle did like movies, the darkness, the outlines of strangers' hair against the screen, the smell of peanuts and shampoo, popcorn squeking in teeth. He could fly away from his chin and hulking shape into the white clothes and slender bodies on the screen. 309
"how to say it? that he loved Petal, not Wavey, that all the capacity for love in him had burned up in one fast go. The moment had come and the spark ignited, and for some it never went out. For Quoyle, who equated misery with love. All he felt with Wavey was comfort and a modest joy." 320
"Quoyle thought of Partridge. He'd call him up that night. Tell him. What? That he could gut a cod while he talked about advertising space and printing costs? That he was wondering if love came in other colors than the basic black of none and the red heat of obsession?"325
"Quoyle let himself be dragged through the company, eyes catching Wavey's eyes, catching Wavey's smile, oh, aimed only at him, and upstairs to Bunny's room. On the stairs an image came to him. Was love then like a bag of assorted sweets passed around from which one might choose more than once? Some might sting the tongue, some invoke night perfume. Some had centers as bitter as gall, some blended honey and poison, some were quickly swallowed. And among the common bull's-eyes and peppermints a few rare ones; one or two with deadly needles at the heart, another that brought calm and gentle pleasure. Were his fingers closing on that one?" 332
Shipping News, Annie Proulx
"it will be fun." the word sounded stupid in his mouth. When had he ever had "fun"? Or Wavey, chapped face already set in the lines of middle age, the encroaching dryness about her beyond stove heat and wind? What was it, anyway? Both of them the kind who stood with forced smiles watching other people dance, spin on barstools, throw bowling balls. Having fun. But Quoyle did like movies, the darkness, the outlines of strangers' hair against the screen, the smell of peanuts and shampoo, popcorn squeking in teeth. He could fly away from his chin and hulking shape into the white clothes and slender bodies on the screen. 309
"how to say it? that he loved Petal, not Wavey, that all the capacity for love in him had burned up in one fast go. The moment had come and the spark ignited, and for some it never went out. For Quoyle, who equated misery with love. All he felt with Wavey was comfort and a modest joy." 320
"Quoyle thought of Partridge. He'd call him up that night. Tell him. What? That he could gut a cod while he talked about advertising space and printing costs? That he was wondering if love came in other colors than the basic black of none and the red heat of obsession?"325
"Quoyle let himself be dragged through the company, eyes catching Wavey's eyes, catching Wavey's smile, oh, aimed only at him, and upstairs to Bunny's room. On the stairs an image came to him. Was love then like a bag of assorted sweets passed around from which one might choose more than once? Some might sting the tongue, some invoke night perfume. Some had centers as bitter as gall, some blended honey and poison, some were quickly swallowed. And among the common bull's-eyes and peppermints a few rare ones; one or two with deadly needles at the heart, another that brought calm and gentle pleasure. Were his fingers closing on that one?" 332
Shipping News, Annie Proulx
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Fishermen
In Siyah Süt, Elif Şafak talks about fishermen. How they wait. How they don't look for or force or chase things. Success, people, ideas. They wait patiently until they come. There's a time for everything.
I'm not feeling or thinking anything strongly. I'm not making any exciting discoveries. That's why I'm not writing, because I don't want to write anything that doesn't come from my heart. I don't want to revisit old thoughts and discoveries and feelings, it would be like shuffling the variables in an equation only to discover you are back where you started, it would be like tying a knot that doesn't hold. I'm not forgetful enough to think they are new.
So there isn't anything new. It's just that every time I walk through Maida Vale the lights, the shapes are sharper. The silence is sharper. Maybe what I've learned in the past year and a half will do for a while. Maybe I have reached peaceful grounds with sharp lights and soft shadows.
I promise I'll write when something exciting occurs to me.
In Siyah Süt, Elif Şafak talks about fishermen. How they wait. How they don't look for or force or chase things. Success, people, ideas. They wait patiently until they come. There's a time for everything.
I'm not feeling or thinking anything strongly. I'm not making any exciting discoveries. That's why I'm not writing, because I don't want to write anything that doesn't come from my heart. I don't want to revisit old thoughts and discoveries and feelings, it would be like shuffling the variables in an equation only to discover you are back where you started, it would be like tying a knot that doesn't hold. I'm not forgetful enough to think they are new.
So there isn't anything new. It's just that every time I walk through Maida Vale the lights, the shapes are sharper. The silence is sharper. Maybe what I've learned in the past year and a half will do for a while. Maybe I have reached peaceful grounds with sharp lights and soft shadows.
I promise I'll write when something exciting occurs to me.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
!!!Cheesy Post Alert!!!
Düzlük
Things I learned in the past month (or rather eight months).
You can't learn from anybody's experience. They tell you and you think it's obvious and you won't make the same mistakes everybody does, and you still have to make your own mistakes to get to know yourself and learn. (Thanks to all those people who told me the following in the past eight months, though:)
Work, love, friendships... They all take a lot of hard work.
[If you like what you're doing], hang on to it!
You'll write hundreds of reports like this one!
But you haven't gone deep in anything yet.
You just need to pick a channel and flow through it.
The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.
Nothing works unless you work.
Work is not enough to be happy.
While I was cooking an omlette today - I realised high heat makes things burn, I want cooked.
And something I found out while watching Funny Ha Ha, an independent American movie about a girl who just graduated, who has "broad interests" and looking for a 'temporary job but a permanent boyfriend', I realized my ordinariness (similar to the feeling I got when our office director made a presentation and it became obvious (to me) that I make up a miniscule part of the business, naturally down in the managers' list of things to do - 'people urgently to hire!') As I'm struggling to get a job, as I'm having an all-important very awkward conversation with a boy, millions of other girls (and boys) are doing the same out there. We all believe we are very unique, in our music tastes and the places we've traveled and the memories and the people in our lives. Looking for special meaning in all that happens, connecting dots. Even in that, we are all so similar to one another. Which is sad and humbling and relieving all at once.
Düzlük
Things I learned in the past month (or rather eight months).
You can't learn from anybody's experience. They tell you and you think it's obvious and you won't make the same mistakes everybody does, and you still have to make your own mistakes to get to know yourself and learn. (Thanks to all those people who told me the following in the past eight months, though:)
Work, love, friendships... They all take a lot of hard work.
[If you like what you're doing], hang on to it!
You'll write hundreds of reports like this one!
But you haven't gone deep in anything yet.
You just need to pick a channel and flow through it.
The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.
Nothing works unless you work.
Work is not enough to be happy.
While I was cooking an omlette today - I realised high heat makes things burn, I want cooked.
And something I found out while watching Funny Ha Ha, an independent American movie about a girl who just graduated, who has "broad interests" and looking for a 'temporary job but a permanent boyfriend', I realized my ordinariness (similar to the feeling I got when our office director made a presentation and it became obvious (to me) that I make up a miniscule part of the business, naturally down in the managers' list of things to do - 'people urgently to hire!') As I'm struggling to get a job, as I'm having an all-important very awkward conversation with a boy, millions of other girls (and boys) are doing the same out there. We all believe we are very unique, in our music tastes and the places we've traveled and the memories and the people in our lives. Looking for special meaning in all that happens, connecting dots. Even in that, we are all so similar to one another. Which is sad and humbling and relieving all at once.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Control
Once I read an interview of Mercan Dede, one of my favourite musicians. He likened life to ebru, and said that he throws the colours in water, and then lets the shape appear on paper.
We have no choice, anyway.
...
Today at work I was reading an article about the economic reforms in Ireland, and the article said that entrepreneurs develop an "internal locus of control" when the state plays only a small role in the economy. Property rights, free trade, less taxes, flexible labour markets, independent central banks. I wondered what "locus of control" was, and read about it on Wikipedia. Apparently, when you have "internal locus of control", you believe that you reach an outcome because of reasons that come from within you. The outcome you get depends on your ability (talent+effort), not factors external to you, the sum of which we call chance.
It was funny I saw this today, a couple of nights ago my father told me that what other people do or say should not affect me so much. I should stand solid and mind my business. Focus on what I can control, really. Because I won't be able to control other people, their characters, all the combinations they think, act and interact.
For I've been really desperate lately. People have told me it's the competition. It's the credit crunch. It's because I'm Turkish. Recruiters get piles of applications, they don't even look through them. Recruiters are so subjective. People say things, they change their minds. It's not me, really.
After all, it would be really sad if it was me after all this education! All this education should have increased my chances of getting somewhere, right? As I wait and get no response (some employers respond a month after you apply!) I started to think, what's the point in putting all those hours to prepare a good application when I don't even know they will read it! As I start to believe I'm not in control of the outcome, I just feel like not doing anything. Fatigue, powerless -ness.
Then I understood the point about economic freedoms and the feeling of being in control. If the outcome does not correspond to the talent and effort you put into the equation, if the government is taxing you or limiting your options (and hence rewards) with strict regulations or stupid policies, if your success depends on too many external factors that are not of your making, you don't feel like doing anything. And this reminded me of what I read about the agency of welfare recipients. If you continue to receive welfare however little effort you put into improving your life, you'll have no incentive to try harder. The goal of social policy should be to empower people by mitigating the risks they face.
The Wikipedia article suggests that there are cultural variations in whether people have "internal" or "external" locus of control, and compares the Japanese with Americans. Wrong comparison. One should compare the third world with the first world.
If you are from a developing country, (emerging market, as they say), you can easily die in an earthquake or hurricane or traffic accident. Tax inspectors will come and rob you. You will find yourself in an economic crisis because your government is stupid. You will find yourself in an economic crisis because some bankers from the first world are stupid. The party you voted for can be banned. People will hire their relatives, not you. You will have to get a visa to travel anywhere, although you are better qualified than half of the people in that first world country, including that embassy official. You can find yourself in a war because you had a dictator! More at risk simply because you were born there, you live there. Less incentives to try, to try to keep things in control, your life on track. More left to the forces of nature. Vicious circle.
In emerging markets, politics matter as much as the market forces, my big boss says.
By the way, will he hire me?
Once I read an interview of Mercan Dede, one of my favourite musicians. He likened life to ebru, and said that he throws the colours in water, and then lets the shape appear on paper.
We have no choice, anyway.
...
Today at work I was reading an article about the economic reforms in Ireland, and the article said that entrepreneurs develop an "internal locus of control" when the state plays only a small role in the economy. Property rights, free trade, less taxes, flexible labour markets, independent central banks. I wondered what "locus of control" was, and read about it on Wikipedia. Apparently, when you have "internal locus of control", you believe that you reach an outcome because of reasons that come from within you. The outcome you get depends on your ability (talent+effort), not factors external to you, the sum of which we call chance.
It was funny I saw this today, a couple of nights ago my father told me that what other people do or say should not affect me so much. I should stand solid and mind my business. Focus on what I can control, really. Because I won't be able to control other people, their characters, all the combinations they think, act and interact.
For I've been really desperate lately. People have told me it's the competition. It's the credit crunch. It's because I'm Turkish. Recruiters get piles of applications, they don't even look through them. Recruiters are so subjective. People say things, they change their minds. It's not me, really.
After all, it would be really sad if it was me after all this education! All this education should have increased my chances of getting somewhere, right? As I wait and get no response (some employers respond a month after you apply!) I started to think, what's the point in putting all those hours to prepare a good application when I don't even know they will read it! As I start to believe I'm not in control of the outcome, I just feel like not doing anything. Fatigue, powerless -ness.
Then I understood the point about economic freedoms and the feeling of being in control. If the outcome does not correspond to the talent and effort you put into the equation, if the government is taxing you or limiting your options (and hence rewards) with strict regulations or stupid policies, if your success depends on too many external factors that are not of your making, you don't feel like doing anything. And this reminded me of what I read about the agency of welfare recipients. If you continue to receive welfare however little effort you put into improving your life, you'll have no incentive to try harder. The goal of social policy should be to empower people by mitigating the risks they face.
The Wikipedia article suggests that there are cultural variations in whether people have "internal" or "external" locus of control, and compares the Japanese with Americans. Wrong comparison. One should compare the third world with the first world.
If you are from a developing country, (emerging market, as they say), you can easily die in an earthquake or hurricane or traffic accident. Tax inspectors will come and rob you. You will find yourself in an economic crisis because your government is stupid. You will find yourself in an economic crisis because some bankers from the first world are stupid. The party you voted for can be banned. People will hire their relatives, not you. You will have to get a visa to travel anywhere, although you are better qualified than half of the people in that first world country, including that embassy official. You can find yourself in a war because you had a dictator! More at risk simply because you were born there, you live there. Less incentives to try, to try to keep things in control, your life on track. More left to the forces of nature. Vicious circle.
In emerging markets, politics matter as much as the market forces, my big boss says.
By the way, will he hire me?
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Kim kimdir? Hepsi birdir!
Bir arkadaşım zamanında sormuştu bana, türban serbest olmalı mı diye. Ben de evet demiştim. İnsanların kendilerini kısıtlayan, geriye götüren bir şeyi seçmeleri (ya da bunun kendilerine ailelerince dayatılması) serbest olmalı.
Geçen hafta AKP'ye kapatma davası açıldı. Tamam, demokrasilerde partiler kapatılmamalı. İnsanlar istedikleri gibi yönetilmeli. Genel prensiplerimiz olmalı, her durumda, her ülkede geçerli. Evrensel prensipler.
Ama iddianameyi okuyorum, içim acıyor. Hayal kırıklığına uğruyorum. Bu iddianamede anlatılanlara izin verilmemeli diyorum kendi kendime. Böyle düşünen adamlar yayılmamalı, kadrolaşmamalı, güç kazanmamalı.
Biz liberallerin savunduğu evrensel prensipler bazen gerçeği görmemize engel. Kolayımıza geliyor demokrasinin her şeyi tek başına çözeceğini sanmak. Demokrasiye bir din gibi bağlanınca ne farkımız kalıyor statükocu laiklerden, dincilerden? Demokratik bir şekilde daha da bayağılaşalım, geriye gidelim o zaman!
Önemli olan demokratik yollardan insanların aydınlanmasını sağlayabilmek. Demokrasi bir zorunluluk, ama yeterli değil. Sorunumuza çözüm değil. Sorunumuz eğitimsizlik. Bayağılık.
Bu sabah Ergenekon soruşturması kapsamında İlhan Selçuk gözaltına alındı. Selçuk'un gözaltına alınma biçimi mazlumların zalimliğe nasıl kolay alışabildiklerini gösteriyor. Kim kime diş geçirebilirse işte. Statükocu laik, sözde demokrat farketmiyor, aslında hepsinin kafası aynı, hepsi fırsatını bulduğu anda tahakkümcü.
Tamam, parti kapansın. Bu kapatılan kaçıncı parti, bu kaçıncı darbe söylentisi? Çözüm değil bütün bunlar. İnsanların eğitim alması, iş bulması gerek. AKP'ye alternatif çıkması gerek. Laiklerin hem laik hem demokrat olmayı, insanların günlük hayatlarını iyileştirecek çözümler üretmeyi bilmeleri gerek. Eğer gerçekten samimiyseler, tepeden inme çözümlerin bir işe yaramadığını görmeleri gerek.
İnsanlara zorla yaptırabileceğiniz şeyler sınırlıdır, sürelidir, gün gelir insanlar asıl istediklerini, alıştıklarını, doğru bildiklerini yaparlar. Onların kendiliklerinden ikna olmalarını sağlayacak ortamı (demokratik yollardan) hazırlamanız gerekir. Bu süreç uzun sürer, kafa ister, çok çalışmak gerekir. Bu kafa, bu sabır kimde var? Ne liberallerde, ne laiklerde, ne dincilerde var!
Bir arkadaşım zamanında sormuştu bana, türban serbest olmalı mı diye. Ben de evet demiştim. İnsanların kendilerini kısıtlayan, geriye götüren bir şeyi seçmeleri (ya da bunun kendilerine ailelerince dayatılması) serbest olmalı.
Geçen hafta AKP'ye kapatma davası açıldı. Tamam, demokrasilerde partiler kapatılmamalı. İnsanlar istedikleri gibi yönetilmeli. Genel prensiplerimiz olmalı, her durumda, her ülkede geçerli. Evrensel prensipler.
Ama iddianameyi okuyorum, içim acıyor. Hayal kırıklığına uğruyorum. Bu iddianamede anlatılanlara izin verilmemeli diyorum kendi kendime. Böyle düşünen adamlar yayılmamalı, kadrolaşmamalı, güç kazanmamalı.
Biz liberallerin savunduğu evrensel prensipler bazen gerçeği görmemize engel. Kolayımıza geliyor demokrasinin her şeyi tek başına çözeceğini sanmak. Demokrasiye bir din gibi bağlanınca ne farkımız kalıyor statükocu laiklerden, dincilerden? Demokratik bir şekilde daha da bayağılaşalım, geriye gidelim o zaman!
Önemli olan demokratik yollardan insanların aydınlanmasını sağlayabilmek. Demokrasi bir zorunluluk, ama yeterli değil. Sorunumuza çözüm değil. Sorunumuz eğitimsizlik. Bayağılık.
Bu sabah Ergenekon soruşturması kapsamında İlhan Selçuk gözaltına alındı. Selçuk'un gözaltına alınma biçimi mazlumların zalimliğe nasıl kolay alışabildiklerini gösteriyor. Kim kime diş geçirebilirse işte. Statükocu laik, sözde demokrat farketmiyor, aslında hepsinin kafası aynı, hepsi fırsatını bulduğu anda tahakkümcü.
Tamam, parti kapansın. Bu kapatılan kaçıncı parti, bu kaçıncı darbe söylentisi? Çözüm değil bütün bunlar. İnsanların eğitim alması, iş bulması gerek. AKP'ye alternatif çıkması gerek. Laiklerin hem laik hem demokrat olmayı, insanların günlük hayatlarını iyileştirecek çözümler üretmeyi bilmeleri gerek. Eğer gerçekten samimiyseler, tepeden inme çözümlerin bir işe yaramadığını görmeleri gerek.
İnsanlara zorla yaptırabileceğiniz şeyler sınırlıdır, sürelidir, gün gelir insanlar asıl istediklerini, alıştıklarını, doğru bildiklerini yaparlar. Onların kendiliklerinden ikna olmalarını sağlayacak ortamı (demokratik yollardan) hazırlamanız gerekir. Bu süreç uzun sürer, kafa ister, çok çalışmak gerekir. Bu kafa, bu sabır kimde var? Ne liberallerde, ne laiklerde, ne dincilerde var!
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Last post about what this post is about
Because I have a feeling things will sort themselves out in a few days. I hope.
I know this will sound very spoiled. I am very spoiled. I'm 23 with a master's degree and I've been unemployed since Jan. 7.
But you are not in my shoes, so don't judge me. Maybe this will sound lazy. Let me explain: I explained here once how constructivism works. Let me quote myself:
Constructivists, on the other hand, argue that actors' understanding of the pay-offs may change, without an actual shift in material interests. Especially in crisis situations ("a policy window"), actors may be more open to new ideas - because they realize that what they always believed in doesn't work. A charismatic actor ("an institutional entrepreneur") comes up with a new idea, and uses such a policy window to persuade the other actors. As they interact and negotiate ("social learning" within the existing institutional framework,) actors change their minds about the pay-offs associated with each option.
Because I have a feeling things will sort themselves out in a few days. I hope.
I know this will sound very spoiled. I am very spoiled. I'm 23 with a master's degree and I've been unemployed since Jan. 7.
But you are not in my shoes, so don't judge me. Maybe this will sound lazy. Let me explain: I explained here once how constructivism works. Let me quote myself:
Constructivists, on the other hand, argue that actors' understanding of the pay-offs may change, without an actual shift in material interests. Especially in crisis situations ("a policy window"), actors may be more open to new ideas - because they realize that what they always believed in doesn't work. A charismatic actor ("an institutional entrepreneur") comes up with a new idea, and uses such a policy window to persuade the other actors. As they interact and negotiate ("social learning" within the existing institutional framework,) actors change their minds about the pay-offs associated with each option.
Crisis situation: I'm unemployed. I have too much free time in my hands. There's not any progress in any department of my life. I'm desperate for getting busy with something to do, having security, certainty, learning things, meeting people, going forward. Everybody seems happy and settled in their lives.
So I decided I'd be happy taking ANY job. Any job that will keep me busy enough so I will forget myself, learn something, anything. Something that will keep me busy enough so soon I can forget all these questions and thoughts. Banks, consulting companies? Anyone who will hire me. I'm applying. I decide something is my dream job, the next day I change my mind about the job, the location. The British look through me, Turks don't know what to do with me. I don't know what to do with myself. My parents don't know what to do with me. I feel so clumsy and out of place when I walk the streets of this city. I can't imagine any other life than what I used to have in London. As Kiran Desai says:
"He knew what his father thought: that immigration, so often presented as a heroic act, could just easily be the opposite; that it was cowardice that led many to America; fear marked the journey, not bravery; a cockroachy desire to scuttle to where you never saw poverty, not really, never had to suffer a tug to your conscience; where you never heard the demands of servants, beggars, bankrupt relatives, and where your generosity would never be openly claimed; where by merely looking after your own wife-child-dog-yard you could feel virtuous. Experience the relief of being an unknown transplant to the locals and hide the perspective granted by journey. Ohio was the first place he loved, for there he had at last been able to acquire a poise-" The Inheritance of Loss, page 299.
So, tonight I decided:
- I will not let anyone influence or judge me. I will not let myself influence me or judge me.
- I'll stop thinking I should be hired by a big name, just so I will enjoy putting it on my Facebook profile and letting people know - as an indication of my worthiness and fitness in this world.
- I will not let my warm heart creep through and hold me back. I will not try to plan ahead and cross bridges before I even come to them. When my family needs me, I will be there for them, if they don't need me yet, then I should do what will make me happy now.
- Nobody at this point knows that better than me. (Well, I don't know it myself yet, but soon I'll find out.) Because not a SINGLE PERSON WAS WITH ME THE WHOLE TIME IN THE PAST FIVE YEARS; BUT MYSELF!
- It's unfair that I had an education that made me think I could become anything, and now I am trying to limit my own choices, just out of laziness, fear of the unknown! I WILL NOT DRAW BOUNDARIES, HOLD MYSELF BACK!
- I am the one who needs to make the decision and take responsibility in the end.
- If you care for me, be patient with me. (Note to myself: If you care for me, be patient with me.)
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Growing up
"Acceptance... Drawing your boundaries. This is growing up," my mom told me today.
"...seeing your boundaries," I said.
Because you never see them from far away. They appear before you as you walk towards them. I always thought I had so many options. I never really thought through any of them.
Then yesterday, one of my interviewers told me, "you just need to pick a channel and flow through it..."
I know, I know.
"Acceptance... Drawing your boundaries. This is growing up," my mom told me today.
"...seeing your boundaries," I said.
Because you never see them from far away. They appear before you as you walk towards them. I always thought I had so many options. I never really thought through any of them.
Then yesterday, one of my interviewers told me, "you just need to pick a channel and flow through it..."
I know, I know.
Undershooting
The cheapest way to satisfy your ego: Undershooting.
In a disappointed, low-self-esteem moment, you can convince yourself that you want something, when in fact you would have considered yourself worthy of something else, had life been treating you better.
As soon as you have it, though, you realize you didn't genuinely want it in the first place, and you actually want something else.
It's like shooting a bird on the lower branch, just because it's within reach. If you'll be happy with it, fine. But if you are still after that other bird higher up - the bird you just killed was just the price for your ego.
You just did nothing but rub in their faces that you consider yourself better than them. Just because they lingered on that lower branch, made themselves vulnerable to you...
This is a thoughtless, selfish thing to do. And maybe it is the bird's job to protect itself.
I thought I was smarter than that, but apparently not.
The cheapest way to satisfy your ego: Undershooting.
In a disappointed, low-self-esteem moment, you can convince yourself that you want something, when in fact you would have considered yourself worthy of something else, had life been treating you better.
As soon as you have it, though, you realize you didn't genuinely want it in the first place, and you actually want something else.
It's like shooting a bird on the lower branch, just because it's within reach. If you'll be happy with it, fine. But if you are still after that other bird higher up - the bird you just killed was just the price for your ego.
You just did nothing but rub in their faces that you consider yourself better than them. Just because they lingered on that lower branch, made themselves vulnerable to you...
This is a thoughtless, selfish thing to do. And maybe it is the bird's job to protect itself.
I thought I was smarter than that, but apparently not.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Vefa
I looked up the concept of "vefa" in the Turkish-English dictionary. Couldn't find an English equivalent that really describes it. Fidelity? Loyalty? Decency? Consistency? How boring, right?
Turkish writer Perihan Mağden wrote a wonderful column when our magnificent prime minister took her to court for "insulting him." She reminds the prime minister how she defended him, when he himself was convicted because of a poem he read. Then she says, she's not expecting "ahde vefa" from the prime minister. She says she only expects it from her equals, from the people she loves, from the ones who share similar opinions with her.
Maybe the solution is not to show "vefa", just so I won't expect it. I won't think about people, I won't care about them, I'll just spend time with them when I feel like it, as long as they keep me entertained. And I won't expect anything more from them, either - feel free to desert me as soon as I'm boring and heavy. Let's hang out as long as we drive sufficient utility from each other. Flexible markets, efficiency. As soon as you find a better option, disappear. It must be my fault to be who I am, falling short of your expectations.
I realize that there are quite a few people who think and act like that in my life, in my head. I'm not going to become one of them, not because I can't (because I am well capable of acting flaky, unfortunately I have before), but because I don't want to.
Somebody's loss, somebody's gain.
I looked up the concept of "vefa" in the Turkish-English dictionary. Couldn't find an English equivalent that really describes it. Fidelity? Loyalty? Decency? Consistency? How boring, right?
Turkish writer Perihan Mağden wrote a wonderful column when our magnificent prime minister took her to court for "insulting him." She reminds the prime minister how she defended him, when he himself was convicted because of a poem he read. Then she says, she's not expecting "ahde vefa" from the prime minister. She says she only expects it from her equals, from the people she loves, from the ones who share similar opinions with her.
Maybe the solution is not to show "vefa", just so I won't expect it. I won't think about people, I won't care about them, I'll just spend time with them when I feel like it, as long as they keep me entertained. And I won't expect anything more from them, either - feel free to desert me as soon as I'm boring and heavy. Let's hang out as long as we drive sufficient utility from each other. Flexible markets, efficiency. As soon as you find a better option, disappear. It must be my fault to be who I am, falling short of your expectations.
I realize that there are quite a few people who think and act like that in my life, in my head. I'm not going to become one of them, not because I can't (because I am well capable of acting flaky, unfortunately I have before), but because I don't want to.
Somebody's loss, somebody's gain.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
The Hydrogen Economy: Genius or Madness?
A couple of days ago I attended a conference about sustainable development in China, where Jeremy Rifkin explained his theory about the "hydrogen economy." It's a novel vision, and it goes like this: According to Rifkin, industrial revolutions happen when a new way to utilize energy coincides with a new way to distribute information. The first one was when coal was used for the steam engine, and it coincided with mass printing. The second one was when oil was used for the combustion engine, and it coincided with the telegraph and telephone. In the face of rising oil prices, limited oil supply and limited security, as well as the environmental problems brought about by the climate change, Rifkin thinks that we are approaching the end of an era.
Rifkin draws his inspiration about a new energy distribution system from the Internet. He thinks everybody, households and businesses, will be producing their energy from renewable sources, like wind, solar power and biomass, store it as hydrogen, and then distribute and share energy through intelligent grids. In addition to solving our obvious problems regarding oil prices, security of supply and climate change, this will also spur sustainable development, he says, as the developing world will be able to produce its own energy.
Rifkin paints a great picture, although I'm not sure about the soundness of his technological assumptions. It's almost too good to be true. Can a new system be planned like this? After all, the first two industrial revolutions were not planned in advance. They evolved, new technologies and solutions came in increments, one thing followed another. People invented things partly out of necessity, but partly out of coincidence. That's why a grand scheme like this, as magnificent and logical as it sounds, can easily draw skepticism.
A couple of days ago I attended a conference about sustainable development in China, where Jeremy Rifkin explained his theory about the "hydrogen economy." It's a novel vision, and it goes like this: According to Rifkin, industrial revolutions happen when a new way to utilize energy coincides with a new way to distribute information. The first one was when coal was used for the steam engine, and it coincided with mass printing. The second one was when oil was used for the combustion engine, and it coincided with the telegraph and telephone. In the face of rising oil prices, limited oil supply and limited security, as well as the environmental problems brought about by the climate change, Rifkin thinks that we are approaching the end of an era.
Rifkin draws his inspiration about a new energy distribution system from the Internet. He thinks everybody, households and businesses, will be producing their energy from renewable sources, like wind, solar power and biomass, store it as hydrogen, and then distribute and share energy through intelligent grids. In addition to solving our obvious problems regarding oil prices, security of supply and climate change, this will also spur sustainable development, he says, as the developing world will be able to produce its own energy.
Rifkin paints a great picture, although I'm not sure about the soundness of his technological assumptions. It's almost too good to be true. Can a new system be planned like this? After all, the first two industrial revolutions were not planned in advance. They evolved, new technologies and solutions came in increments, one thing followed another. People invented things partly out of necessity, but partly out of coincidence. That's why a grand scheme like this, as magnificent and logical as it sounds, can easily draw skepticism.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Ey liberal: Hangi tarafta olduğunu bil!
Biz liberal geçinenler, aslında hangi tarafta olduğumuzu sırf fikirlerimizin değil, ne olduğumuzun, nasıl yaşadığımızın da belirlediğini sonunda anlıyoruz. Aynı mağdur gördüklerimizin bizimle aynı tarafta olup olmadıklarını ne olduklarının, nasıl yaşadıklarının, ne kadar güç kazandıklarının belirlediği gibi.
Bir arkadaşımla LSE'deki "Avrupa Birliği Yolunda Türkiye'de Milliyetçilik" konulu konferansa gittik. Konferansın sonunda izleyicilerin bir kısmı, Kürt milliyetçileri Abdullah Öcalan'a "sayın" diye hitap edince galeyana geldi. Arkadaşım, konferansta, bir akademisyen olarak henüz kendini kanıtlamamış birine söz verilmesini eleştirdi. Toplantının tatsız bitmesinde bunun da etkisi olduğunu düşünüyordu. Arkadaşım elitist, ben de demokrat, yenilikçi, liberalim ya, ona şöyle yazdım:
"Aslında Türkiye şu anda güç dengelerinin bilinçli olarak değiştirildiği bir dönemden geçiyor. Belki basitleştirmiş olacağım, ama elitler - yargı, akademisyenler, eski zenginler (TUSIAD, beyaz Turkler) gittikçe güç kaybediyor, geliri ve eğitim seviyesi daha düşük kesimler (muhafazakar olsun, olmasın) zenginleşiyor, güç ve ses kazanıyor. Ancak AKP'nin güçlenmesinin önemli bir sebebi, o elitlerin şimdiye kadar toplumun diğer kesimlerini tatmin edecek politikalar üretememiş olmalarıdır, gerek sosyal, gerek eğitim, gerek ekonomi açısından. Ya da gerçekten kaliteli insanların ("elitler" içinde bile) hep azınlıkta kalmış olmalarıdır.
Tamam, bu demokrasının kabahati. On beş çocuklu bir ailenin çocukları beni kimin yöneteceğini belirleyecek. Televizyonların, gazetelerin içeriğine onlar karar verecek. Toplum gittikçe banalleşecek. Maalesef demokrasilerde yasama işini akademisyenler değil, halkın seçtiği politikacılar yapıyor. Buna isyan etmenin, o insanları yok saymanın, bir anda değiştirmeye, aydınlatmaya, darbelerle susturmaya çalışmanın bir yarar sağlamayacağı belli oldu. Bizler onların isteklerini, ihtiyaçlarını dikkate almak zorundayız, onların iyiliği için olmasa bile kendi iyiliğimiz için! Gerçi bunu söylemek için biraz geç oldu. Belki de söylememiz gereken - dua edelim de onlar bizim isteklerimizi dikkate alsın!"
Birden anladım ki, ben aslında olduğumu düşündüğüm tarafta değilim, zaten hiç olmamışım, olamam da. Aslında tek derdim, şimdiye kadar işleri düzeltmediğini düşündüğüm politikaların değişmesi. Gayet pragmatiğim yani.
AKP'yi destekleyen liberaller birden gerçeğe aydılar, hayal kırıklığına uğradılar. Hayal kırıklıkları mağdurların iktidara geldiklerinde o kadar mağdur ve sevimli gözükmemesinden mi, yoksa kendilerinin aslında laik elitistlere benzediklerini farketmelerinden mi, bilinmez.
Bizler, onlara bizden farklı düşünme, yaşama hakkının verilmesinin, sorunları çözeceğini düşündük. Yıllardır ülkenin ayaklarına dolanan düğümleri ancak bu çözebilirdi. Ama onların bize kendi düşüncelerini, yaşam tarzlarını dayatma ihtimali, aslında onlar gibi olmadığımızı hatırlamamızı sağladı. Şimdi korkuyoruz, meğer aslında kaybedecek bir şeylerimiz varmış.
Biz liberal geçinenler, aslında hangi tarafta olduğumuzu sırf fikirlerimizin değil, ne olduğumuzun, nasıl yaşadığımızın da belirlediğini sonunda anlıyoruz. Aynı mağdur gördüklerimizin bizimle aynı tarafta olup olmadıklarını ne olduklarının, nasıl yaşadıklarının, ne kadar güç kazandıklarının belirlediği gibi.
Bir arkadaşımla LSE'deki "Avrupa Birliği Yolunda Türkiye'de Milliyetçilik" konulu konferansa gittik. Konferansın sonunda izleyicilerin bir kısmı, Kürt milliyetçileri Abdullah Öcalan'a "sayın" diye hitap edince galeyana geldi. Arkadaşım, konferansta, bir akademisyen olarak henüz kendini kanıtlamamış birine söz verilmesini eleştirdi. Toplantının tatsız bitmesinde bunun da etkisi olduğunu düşünüyordu. Arkadaşım elitist, ben de demokrat, yenilikçi, liberalim ya, ona şöyle yazdım:
"Aslında Türkiye şu anda güç dengelerinin bilinçli olarak değiştirildiği bir dönemden geçiyor. Belki basitleştirmiş olacağım, ama elitler - yargı, akademisyenler, eski zenginler (TUSIAD, beyaz Turkler) gittikçe güç kaybediyor, geliri ve eğitim seviyesi daha düşük kesimler (muhafazakar olsun, olmasın) zenginleşiyor, güç ve ses kazanıyor. Ancak AKP'nin güçlenmesinin önemli bir sebebi, o elitlerin şimdiye kadar toplumun diğer kesimlerini tatmin edecek politikalar üretememiş olmalarıdır, gerek sosyal, gerek eğitim, gerek ekonomi açısından. Ya da gerçekten kaliteli insanların ("elitler" içinde bile) hep azınlıkta kalmış olmalarıdır.
Tamam, bu demokrasının kabahati. On beş çocuklu bir ailenin çocukları beni kimin yöneteceğini belirleyecek. Televizyonların, gazetelerin içeriğine onlar karar verecek. Toplum gittikçe banalleşecek. Maalesef demokrasilerde yasama işini akademisyenler değil, halkın seçtiği politikacılar yapıyor. Buna isyan etmenin, o insanları yok saymanın, bir anda değiştirmeye, aydınlatmaya, darbelerle susturmaya çalışmanın bir yarar sağlamayacağı belli oldu. Bizler onların isteklerini, ihtiyaçlarını dikkate almak zorundayız, onların iyiliği için olmasa bile kendi iyiliğimiz için! Gerçi bunu söylemek için biraz geç oldu. Belki de söylememiz gereken - dua edelim de onlar bizim isteklerimizi dikkate alsın!"
Birden anladım ki, ben aslında olduğumu düşündüğüm tarafta değilim, zaten hiç olmamışım, olamam da. Aslında tek derdim, şimdiye kadar işleri düzeltmediğini düşündüğüm politikaların değişmesi. Gayet pragmatiğim yani.
AKP'yi destekleyen liberaller birden gerçeğe aydılar, hayal kırıklığına uğradılar. Hayal kırıklıkları mağdurların iktidara geldiklerinde o kadar mağdur ve sevimli gözükmemesinden mi, yoksa kendilerinin aslında laik elitistlere benzediklerini farketmelerinden mi, bilinmez.
Bizler, onlara bizden farklı düşünme, yaşama hakkının verilmesinin, sorunları çözeceğini düşündük. Yıllardır ülkenin ayaklarına dolanan düğümleri ancak bu çözebilirdi. Ama onların bize kendi düşüncelerini, yaşam tarzlarını dayatma ihtimali, aslında onlar gibi olmadığımızı hatırlamamızı sağladı. Şimdi korkuyoruz, meğer aslında kaybedecek bir şeylerimiz varmış.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Truth
I'm sitting in Starbucks, drank a chai latte and ate a banana nut muffin, finished the Kite Runner. I've been here for more than three hours now, so many people came and went.
Reading this book reminded me of some things, made me realize some things. It reminded me of my cousin, my warm heart, my sister, my reference point through our childhoods, our youth. Our families voiced this so many times, showed me to her as an example, her reference point. This made me stronger and stronger, I was the bee getting most of the honey in the comb. But I know they enjoy it when she makes fun of me sometimes, as I became more vain, more self-righteous over time, as I became strong and independent, as I drifted away from them.
The book made me realize (once again) that there's no way to ensure things will stay pure and good. But it also made me realize, that it doesn't mean the end of the world once things are impure and bad. It made me realize there's a way to make things better. Guilt can lead to good, if one tries. We are not Gods, as my friend said, we do our best. We can, if we want to.
I realized one can witness religious fundamentalism and still believe, still be religious when someone dear to him survives.
And it made me think about my father. My father, who witnessed his own dad die of lung cancer when he was young. My father took me to fly a kite to a hill close to our old flat in Izmir. The hill is just there, quite unreal in the middle of the adjacent, concrete apartment buildings. Once you start climbing it, as far as I remember, at least, it gives you quite the feeling of being in a cool, shadowy wood of pine trees. It's balding at the top, and there are more apartment buildings in Hatay. We flew the kite there on a Sunday, I was quite small. Then I remembered myself flying a small newspaper kite out of the window of my room in our sixth-story flat - a kite I had made in our arts and crafts class in elementary school.
(The girl across from me is talking into her laptop, telling the story of a boy who died suddenly without any prior health problems... She has dark eyes lined with black pencil and curly long hair. She doesn't cry or anything, and now she's eating a banana. This boy must have been an acquaintance.)
And then I remembered my dad teaching me how to ride a bike on his really old bike with back wheels on the concrete walkway by the bay. That road, sahilyolu, is built on a landfill, closely-knit apartment buildings lining it. The passers-by told me to look ahead, and my dad pushed the bike. We took it to the repairshop to fix something with it. I learned in the end, and my dad bought me a pink Bisan bike. I rode it more when we moved to the suburb. We still ride bikes in Çeşme with my dad when I go home, and I'm still scared of the traffic, and still ashamed for riding bikes with my dad and not with people my age.
(The girl moved, I think I made her uncomfortable by observing her. She thanked me warmly.)
My dad also made me apply for colleges abroad. I told him I wanted to focus on the entrance exam in Turkey rather than spreading myself thin. He contacted the counselor in our school, made me go to meetings, pick schools from a big thick yellow book. He took me to school on a Sunday to take pictures for my portfolio. (I made one to apply to Cornell Architecture.) He drove me to UPS to mail my applications, we drove through the poorest neighbourhoods, and one of those days it snowed, and it stuck on the ground for the first time in Izmir. He made me take the SAT and later AP exams. Bought me a graphing calculator which I later lost at Georgetown. When we went to DC for the first time, staying in a really depressing Hilton across from a 7-Eleven in Ballston, he told me that he was paying the tuition and I was staying for good. He told me to apply to LSE when I said I was sick of studying, I wanted to work for a while.
My dad made me make my own web-site when I was 13. I remember the day he came home and explained to me and my mom what Internet was.
I talked to my dad the other day, and he said I'm depressing myself, sitting like a pickle and I should come back home immediately. He said I need some direction and if I'm home my mom will cook potato soup and he himself will tell me where to apply. I'll be able to drive sheker sherbet and gain experience before I have to drive in Istanbul. I said OK, and then changed my mind to stay a couple of weeks more.
(The girl met with someone else. I don't feel so offended now.)
I make the Capricorns in my life impatient with my indecisiveness, fear. My friend told me what her dad told her, that you have to be a lion in this life to get what you want. Of course, she added, it's hard if your character is different from a lion's. She said she wants to push me sometimes. She said I should apply to jobs like there's no tomorrow. Another friend told me I can't afford to be not hungry.
I have been sitting like a pickle, sour in my glass jar, for the past month. But I suddenly crossed the border between depression and vacancy to a state more alive, more full of meaning. Yesterday I went to Winchester with two friends, barely made it to the train because I hardly cared. We climbed a big grassy hill and looked at the little city from above. We ate lamb shanks with mash and gravy in a dark pub with a very pretty bartender, filled animals, lots of books, some cut in half and tied to a door as decoration. Medical instruments hung down from the ceiling of the bathroom, words scribbled all over the stall.
We walked in the sunshine, on little streets, we passed through small gates into courtyards, watched the sunlight go through windows in the stone, medieval cathedral, in the little chapel. We lingered in a small garden with a pond and a small fountain, stirring the pond and making a trickling sound in the silence, under the sunshine. We walked on the muddy walkway by the stream, which was branching and merging, the water flowing without making a fuss, clearly and with determination. We ended up in Abbey Gardens, one of my friends had heard from a co-worker that it was a must-see, supposedly full of flower beds. The Winchester youth were hanging out there, smoking, and the garden was a disappointment. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, after all," I joked.
"I wrote that in an essay once," my friend said, "And my professor wrote, 'cut that relativistic non-sense!'"
Although I had just said it myself, I agreed wholeheartedly with that professor. Cut the relativistic non-sense. What he meant was, probably, "it's laziness to think that there's no truth, to stop searching for it, to stop trying to understand things, see meaning in things." He thought the search for truth had a point.
For me, it also means: Stop comparing yourself with others. Stop competing, stop determining your value based on the value of others. No, everything is not relative. There's truth, absolute truth, there's value, absolute value, there's beauty, absolute beauty. Everybody has a piece of it, one recognizes it, remembers it once one sees it, hears it. It might be in a piece of music, in a building, in a book, in a person. One sees it and recognizes it.
I'm sitting in Starbucks, drank a chai latte and ate a banana nut muffin, finished the Kite Runner. I've been here for more than three hours now, so many people came and went.
Reading this book reminded me of some things, made me realize some things. It reminded me of my cousin, my warm heart, my sister, my reference point through our childhoods, our youth. Our families voiced this so many times, showed me to her as an example, her reference point. This made me stronger and stronger, I was the bee getting most of the honey in the comb. But I know they enjoy it when she makes fun of me sometimes, as I became more vain, more self-righteous over time, as I became strong and independent, as I drifted away from them.
The book made me realize (once again) that there's no way to ensure things will stay pure and good. But it also made me realize, that it doesn't mean the end of the world once things are impure and bad. It made me realize there's a way to make things better. Guilt can lead to good, if one tries. We are not Gods, as my friend said, we do our best. We can, if we want to.
I realized one can witness religious fundamentalism and still believe, still be religious when someone dear to him survives.
And it made me think about my father. My father, who witnessed his own dad die of lung cancer when he was young. My father took me to fly a kite to a hill close to our old flat in Izmir. The hill is just there, quite unreal in the middle of the adjacent, concrete apartment buildings. Once you start climbing it, as far as I remember, at least, it gives you quite the feeling of being in a cool, shadowy wood of pine trees. It's balding at the top, and there are more apartment buildings in Hatay. We flew the kite there on a Sunday, I was quite small. Then I remembered myself flying a small newspaper kite out of the window of my room in our sixth-story flat - a kite I had made in our arts and crafts class in elementary school.
(The girl across from me is talking into her laptop, telling the story of a boy who died suddenly without any prior health problems... She has dark eyes lined with black pencil and curly long hair. She doesn't cry or anything, and now she's eating a banana. This boy must have been an acquaintance.)
And then I remembered my dad teaching me how to ride a bike on his really old bike with back wheels on the concrete walkway by the bay. That road, sahilyolu, is built on a landfill, closely-knit apartment buildings lining it. The passers-by told me to look ahead, and my dad pushed the bike. We took it to the repairshop to fix something with it. I learned in the end, and my dad bought me a pink Bisan bike. I rode it more when we moved to the suburb. We still ride bikes in Çeşme with my dad when I go home, and I'm still scared of the traffic, and still ashamed for riding bikes with my dad and not with people my age.
(The girl moved, I think I made her uncomfortable by observing her. She thanked me warmly.)
My dad also made me apply for colleges abroad. I told him I wanted to focus on the entrance exam in Turkey rather than spreading myself thin. He contacted the counselor in our school, made me go to meetings, pick schools from a big thick yellow book. He took me to school on a Sunday to take pictures for my portfolio. (I made one to apply to Cornell Architecture.) He drove me to UPS to mail my applications, we drove through the poorest neighbourhoods, and one of those days it snowed, and it stuck on the ground for the first time in Izmir. He made me take the SAT and later AP exams. Bought me a graphing calculator which I later lost at Georgetown. When we went to DC for the first time, staying in a really depressing Hilton across from a 7-Eleven in Ballston, he told me that he was paying the tuition and I was staying for good. He told me to apply to LSE when I said I was sick of studying, I wanted to work for a while.
My dad made me make my own web-site when I was 13. I remember the day he came home and explained to me and my mom what Internet was.
I talked to my dad the other day, and he said I'm depressing myself, sitting like a pickle and I should come back home immediately. He said I need some direction and if I'm home my mom will cook potato soup and he himself will tell me where to apply. I'll be able to drive sheker sherbet and gain experience before I have to drive in Istanbul. I said OK, and then changed my mind to stay a couple of weeks more.
(The girl met with someone else. I don't feel so offended now.)
I make the Capricorns in my life impatient with my indecisiveness, fear. My friend told me what her dad told her, that you have to be a lion in this life to get what you want. Of course, she added, it's hard if your character is different from a lion's. She said she wants to push me sometimes. She said I should apply to jobs like there's no tomorrow. Another friend told me I can't afford to be not hungry.
I have been sitting like a pickle, sour in my glass jar, for the past month. But I suddenly crossed the border between depression and vacancy to a state more alive, more full of meaning. Yesterday I went to Winchester with two friends, barely made it to the train because I hardly cared. We climbed a big grassy hill and looked at the little city from above. We ate lamb shanks with mash and gravy in a dark pub with a very pretty bartender, filled animals, lots of books, some cut in half and tied to a door as decoration. Medical instruments hung down from the ceiling of the bathroom, words scribbled all over the stall.
We walked in the sunshine, on little streets, we passed through small gates into courtyards, watched the sunlight go through windows in the stone, medieval cathedral, in the little chapel. We lingered in a small garden with a pond and a small fountain, stirring the pond and making a trickling sound in the silence, under the sunshine. We walked on the muddy walkway by the stream, which was branching and merging, the water flowing without making a fuss, clearly and with determination. We ended up in Abbey Gardens, one of my friends had heard from a co-worker that it was a must-see, supposedly full of flower beds. The Winchester youth were hanging out there, smoking, and the garden was a disappointment. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, after all," I joked.
"I wrote that in an essay once," my friend said, "And my professor wrote, 'cut that relativistic non-sense!'"
Although I had just said it myself, I agreed wholeheartedly with that professor. Cut the relativistic non-sense. What he meant was, probably, "it's laziness to think that there's no truth, to stop searching for it, to stop trying to understand things, see meaning in things." He thought the search for truth had a point.
For me, it also means: Stop comparing yourself with others. Stop competing, stop determining your value based on the value of others. No, everything is not relative. There's truth, absolute truth, there's value, absolute value, there's beauty, absolute beauty. Everybody has a piece of it, one recognizes it, remembers it once one sees it, hears it. It might be in a piece of music, in a building, in a book, in a person. One sees it and recognizes it.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
AKP's mistakes
Apparently when Cuneyd Zapsu suggested their party to be named "Muslim Democratic Party," Tayyip Erdogan objected, saying religion should not be mentioned in the party's name, because political parties make mistakes. Good foresight.
Back in July, I said I would vote for the Justice and Development Party, had I been in Turkey. Mostly for the lack of a better alternative. Then I got to do research about the healthcare system and the new social security law, and I was impressed by the government's efforts to undertake politically difficult reforms. Now they are working on an employment package to cut social security premiums and severance payments, as well as eliminating bureaucratic obligations, in an effort to reduce the informal economy and create more jobs - the headscarf debate permitting. (The Justice Minister's proposal to change Article 301, too, seems to have been shelved until the dust settles.)
The government's mistakes overshadow the well-meaning reforms. Just a quick laundry list to brush up our memories: The Finance Ministry launched a questionable tax probe on Petrol Ofisi, a privatized oil distributor, after the newspapers and TV channels belonging to its new owner, Aydın Doğan, took a critical stance towards the government. Then, only about a month ago, the Savings Deposit Insurance Fund (TMSF) sold Sabah, a newspaper, and ATV, a TV channel, to Çalık group, which is headed by Erdoğan's son-in-law. The rumor goes that the government is looking to change the law that bans foreign ownership of media outlets, and the Çalık Group will be able to make a decent profit by selling off its stake.
And take a look at the government's Jan. 9 action plan: Most of the items on the list lack clear detail and a timetable, and the few concrete policies lack consensus even within the cabinet. Economy minister Mehmet Şimşek, as well as the State Planning Organisation, had announced that the social security premium cuts would not go into effect until 2009, because the budget does not have any room to compensate for them. Industry Minister Zafer Çağlayan demanded earlier implementation, and Erdoğan announced that premium cuts will come into effect in 2008. It seems unfeasible, and Erdoğan only hurts his credibility by making promises at the spur of a moment.
A similar story goes for agricultural subsidies: The government announced that direct income support, based on land ownership, would be replaced by product price support, but it turns out the preliminary work isn't complete: it is not clear how much each product will be subsidized in each region.
Erdoğan also pledged to move the Central Bank from Ankara to Istanbul. The Central Bank staff, most notably the governor, have voiced their opposition to such a move, and the government has failed to show that such a fait accompli has a clear economic rationale. Now it all seems like stubborn insistence.
All this, including a global economic downturn that will hit emerging markets like us the most, doesn't matter, of course. The most important item on the government's agenda is the headscarf ban in universities. The ideal solution would be if another party, not AKP, lifted the ban, and such a move would give secularists real strength. Because they are not smart enough to do that, AKP drew power from their victim status. I never thought they would take the final steps to lift the ban, but they finally seem to have found the resolve, also emboldened by their election victory.
Of course, devil lies in the extremes: the religious conservative intelligensia is not shy about their dissatisfaction - they think civil servants, and even high school students should be allowed to wear headscarves. That would be going too far.
Apparently when Cuneyd Zapsu suggested their party to be named "Muslim Democratic Party," Tayyip Erdogan objected, saying religion should not be mentioned in the party's name, because political parties make mistakes. Good foresight.
Back in July, I said I would vote for the Justice and Development Party, had I been in Turkey. Mostly for the lack of a better alternative. Then I got to do research about the healthcare system and the new social security law, and I was impressed by the government's efforts to undertake politically difficult reforms. Now they are working on an employment package to cut social security premiums and severance payments, as well as eliminating bureaucratic obligations, in an effort to reduce the informal economy and create more jobs - the headscarf debate permitting. (The Justice Minister's proposal to change Article 301, too, seems to have been shelved until the dust settles.)
The government's mistakes overshadow the well-meaning reforms. Just a quick laundry list to brush up our memories: The Finance Ministry launched a questionable tax probe on Petrol Ofisi, a privatized oil distributor, after the newspapers and TV channels belonging to its new owner, Aydın Doğan, took a critical stance towards the government. Then, only about a month ago, the Savings Deposit Insurance Fund (TMSF) sold Sabah, a newspaper, and ATV, a TV channel, to Çalık group, which is headed by Erdoğan's son-in-law. The rumor goes that the government is looking to change the law that bans foreign ownership of media outlets, and the Çalık Group will be able to make a decent profit by selling off its stake.
And take a look at the government's Jan. 9 action plan: Most of the items on the list lack clear detail and a timetable, and the few concrete policies lack consensus even within the cabinet. Economy minister Mehmet Şimşek, as well as the State Planning Organisation, had announced that the social security premium cuts would not go into effect until 2009, because the budget does not have any room to compensate for them. Industry Minister Zafer Çağlayan demanded earlier implementation, and Erdoğan announced that premium cuts will come into effect in 2008. It seems unfeasible, and Erdoğan only hurts his credibility by making promises at the spur of a moment.
A similar story goes for agricultural subsidies: The government announced that direct income support, based on land ownership, would be replaced by product price support, but it turns out the preliminary work isn't complete: it is not clear how much each product will be subsidized in each region.
Erdoğan also pledged to move the Central Bank from Ankara to Istanbul. The Central Bank staff, most notably the governor, have voiced their opposition to such a move, and the government has failed to show that such a fait accompli has a clear economic rationale. Now it all seems like stubborn insistence.
All this, including a global economic downturn that will hit emerging markets like us the most, doesn't matter, of course. The most important item on the government's agenda is the headscarf ban in universities. The ideal solution would be if another party, not AKP, lifted the ban, and such a move would give secularists real strength. Because they are not smart enough to do that, AKP drew power from their victim status. I never thought they would take the final steps to lift the ban, but they finally seem to have found the resolve, also emboldened by their election victory.
Of course, devil lies in the extremes: the religious conservative intelligensia is not shy about their dissatisfaction - they think civil servants, and even high school students should be allowed to wear headscarves. That would be going too far.
like a rolling stone
Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it
You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
Bob Dylan
:)
Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it
You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
Bob Dylan
:)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
London notes #2
22.01
Founder's Arms
I feel "ferah", like there's a huge breezy space in my heart, windows open, curtains flying in the wind. I don't know if it's the subtle, strong movement of the water, the lights or the dim, wide waterfront. I don't know if it's the medieval tunnels under the bridges. Or the memories, the habit of having walked there so many times, with different people, with the same people. There's still no place in London more soothing than there. There's no place, where the thought of going makes me happier.
22.01
Founder's Arms
I feel "ferah", like there's a huge breezy space in my heart, windows open, curtains flying in the wind. I don't know if it's the subtle, strong movement of the water, the lights or the dim, wide waterfront. I don't know if it's the medieval tunnels under the bridges. Or the memories, the habit of having walked there so many times, with different people, with the same people. There's still no place in London more soothing than there. There's no place, where the thought of going makes me happier.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Behind closed doors
You know those action movies, where the only weakness of the hero is his loved ones? And how secret service officers are usually picked among orphans?
One evening we found a ten pound bill on the staircase, and started ringing people's bells to see whose it is. Some people weren't home, but one family answered the door. The house was a real house and the family was a real family, in their casual home attire. The kids, some in their teens, the smiling mom trying to understand why we rang their bell. I felt like we put a huge spotlight into their nest, we intruded their privacy, caught them in their most defenseless moment. Just when they felt they didn't have to deal with strangers anymore, just when they felt they could relax.
You can be cool when you're by yourself. You can be all cool and collectively not care when you're sharing a flat with people your age. You can wear your poker faces and pretend you're strong.
Family, though, makes one so weak. You care for these people, you care for your home, you see their flaws and weaknesses, but still you can't imagine what would happen if something happened to any of them. You want to protect them from the world's gaze, sometimes you want to protect them from your own gaze.
I think that's why family can be such an intimate thing.
You know those action movies, where the only weakness of the hero is his loved ones? And how secret service officers are usually picked among orphans?
One evening we found a ten pound bill on the staircase, and started ringing people's bells to see whose it is. Some people weren't home, but one family answered the door. The house was a real house and the family was a real family, in their casual home attire. The kids, some in their teens, the smiling mom trying to understand why we rang their bell. I felt like we put a huge spotlight into their nest, we intruded their privacy, caught them in their most defenseless moment. Just when they felt they didn't have to deal with strangers anymore, just when they felt they could relax.
You can be cool when you're by yourself. You can be all cool and collectively not care when you're sharing a flat with people your age. You can wear your poker faces and pretend you're strong.
Family, though, makes one so weak. You care for these people, you care for your home, you see their flaws and weaknesses, but still you can't imagine what would happen if something happened to any of them. You want to protect them from the world's gaze, sometimes you want to protect them from your own gaze.
I think that's why family can be such an intimate thing.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
London notes
17.1, 20.1
Mayfair
Mayfair is a small, wealthy Swiss town in the middle of London. The Bond Streets host the boutiques, jewellers, art galleries and auctioneers advertised in How to Spend It. Sophisticated women and men walk the sidewalks, chins up, hardly flinching at what's displayed on the windows, never stopping. Women usually wear their trenchcoats and coats unbuttoned, while men keep their hands in their coat pockets. The buildings, powered by wealth and history, hold the colourful flags of the shops tirelessly. Small shops with small, delicate paintings, men's shoes, pipes, and small rectangle perfume bottles line the passages, they glow with the rustic red of the wood and warm yellow lights. On Sundays jewellers put away the jewels, but the price tags remain.
18.1
Shoreditch
Walking out of the dirty, busy Liverpool Street Station, one steps into the dark world of asphalt, steel, glass, sharp corners, vertical lines, white lights and water puddles reflecting and multiplying all this. If you walk left a little, you'll see a huge pub on the corner across the street, and that little street leads to the alleyways which in turn lead to where I used to live. That's why it's homey to me. First there's the friendly dry cleaners. Then there are little cafés and sandwich places that fill up during lunchtime, a dark winery decorated with barrells, there are homeless people walking up and down (one guy wanted to go to Bermuda and there was a little woman who really creeped me out), the occasional boutique that manages to hold an elegant, fragile contrast to everything else. There's the Jack the Ripper graffitti on the brick wall plastered with white paint. When you walk on those alleyways at night, there is always lots of trash, and a couple making out promiscuously.
I could see the roofs of these small buildings from my kitchen. One of them had a terrace with green plants even.
That was a huge paranthesis, sparked by my love of my old neighbourhood. But that is not where we went Friday night. We didn't take the street that leads to my old dorm, and then to Spitalfields, Commercial Street with the little, dark, concrete church, and Brick Lane. Instead we just kept walking on Bishopsgate past EBRD, ABN Amro, RBS, a skyscraper construction. We ended up in the Light on the brink of Shoreditch High. It's a two-storey, spacey place. Upstairs there are big windows and a terrace. From the windows you could see the street, the traffic, the red buses with their red stop lights. We had to step outside to escape from the loud trance music, and stood in the drizzle. From here we could see the Gurken and the street. It's a happy, playful building. It was alit white like all the others, but its round shape made it smiley like the moon.
19.1
Covent Garden
I remember the day I handed in my dissertation. I felt so light. I stopped by work briefly, then walked back towards Covent Garden. The first time I walked around the neighbourhood properly. There were boutiques, bookshops with boxes of cheap books outside, one bookshop solely dedicated to books about design, dance studios. It looked like an artsy theater district. Somewhere hidden were bohemian dancers, singers, actors, their aspirations. Then there were a couple of astrology/mysticism shops with colourful stones and beads and cards. I walked in and flipped through the books to read about the qualities of my sign - and the sign of the guy I liked at the time.
Last night, I walked from Charing Cross to Long Acre with a friend. I saw a Mexican restaurant, a native American place with high ceilings, some other restaurants/bars we haven't been to yet. People mingling. When places like these open in Istanbul, it becomes a huge deal. Here, there are just too many of them. Diverse, lively neighbourhoods, exciting and inspiring even in their dirt and ugliness. I felt ashamed of not being able to be happy in London, not being able to appreciate it fully, not being able to catch up with it, lose and forget myself in it.
Now that I'm thinking of leaving in a couple of months, I'm so awake to its beauty. I'm walking around like a tourist, always lifting my gaze to see the buildings and the whole street, my eyes scanning around to discover side streets, alleys, courtyards.
When I came home, I saw a quote by Charles Baudelaire on Ekşi Sözlük. "Ben nerede değilsem orada iyi olacakmışım gibi gelir." Whereever I'm not, it seems that I'll be good there. People said you couldn't escape from yourself wherever you went. Yea, we are always by ourselves, with ourselves. People can leave us, and each time somebody leaves us, we too want to leave ourselves, but we can't. We are stuck here. I can leave everything, everywhere and everyone, but not myself.
So better start getting along!
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