The Constant Gardner. I saw this book in a pile of books at the office that someone was trying to move for a buck a piece, used books that no wanted to find homes for. I remembered that the Constant Gardener was a movie once, with I think Angelina Jolie and maybe Pierce Brosnan, and that it didn't do particularly well. I had also struck out once with Lecarre, trying to read A Small Town in Germany at the airport on the way to some place or another. I didn't enjoy it, though to be fair I don't think it is counted as one of his best. Good title though.
But I figured "Eh, it's a dollar, so I'll go for it".
I am glad I did.
It's a rough ride at first, only because the subject matter is so gut wrenching. When the book opens Tessa Quayle has been brutally raped and murdered and the aid worker she was with in the Kenyan countryside has disappeared. It seems she has escaped on a lover's tryst with the doctor, and it went bad. The doctor is suspected.
Her husband, a career diplomat in the British Foreign service, knows better. Tessa was trying to unravel a great consipracy with implications going all the way up to the hallowed halls of the British Government, but he's not sure exactly what she was up to. He gathers all the documents after her death, reads them through, and discovers that she was trying to uncover medical fraud by a large pharma company. They rushed a tuberculosis into Africa without actively testing it, and the side effects were killing Africans, notably woman. Basically they were using poor Africans as guinea pigs so that when the drug was introduced into a wealthier western market it would have been tweaked. The pharma company and the distributor have ties to the British government...not direct ties but monetary ties, influence, lobbying, etc. It's all rather believable and it's all rather damning, that the prosperity of the West continues to be at the expense of others.
So he figures it out (and we along with him, which is nice, a gift that apparently Lecarre has) and he tries to bring the whole thing down.
But.....
I'll leave it at that. It was a decent book, a fair page turner. The movie did look a bit more exciting, but the book was really rather good. More Lecarre is in my future.
Oh, but if you DO read it, please read Mr. Lecarre's acknowledgements at the end of the book. They are politely cantankerous (i.e. very British) and were a sheer delight.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Women's World Cup: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
Yes, it's been a few days, but the recent US Women's National Team (USWNT) World Cup triumph needs to be talked about before it fades into the fog of NFL Pre-season workouts and general fucking hooplah over such things as how many Republicans are running for President. So:
The Good
The US Women's Team, of course! One can wax poetic about them for days and days, we should be spreading rose petals in their paths, we should recognize them as the conquering heroes that they are. Men in Blazers noted after the semi-final victory against Germany that the team showed a level of tactical flexibility and desire that we could only wish the Men's team had. Their backline was fantastic, their reserves were deep. Jill Ellis had the courage to alter formations and personnel until the team was invited to attack with better midfield support, which was lacking in the first few games.
If they were the good, they were also the lucky. God, they were lucky. Lucky that Julie Johnson didn't get red carded in the game against Germany for denial of a goal scoring opportunity. Lucky even in the yellow cards to Rapinoe and Holiday that suspended them for the game against China and forced the US to find a different and ultimately better way forward.
Carli Lloyd was a revelation, offering what The Guardian says may be one the greatest individual American performances in a final across any sport. And Hope Solo? Credit the back line all you want, but when Germany won a penalty in the semi-final and her against Sacic she channeled the utter craziness of a Jens Lehman, moves away from the goal, takes a little walk about, gets a drink, stalls for time, makes Sacic think a little too much. Maybe that doesn't matter at all, maybe it doesn't get Sacic inside her head, but maybe it means everything. She misses. If that penalty goes in, its a different game with maybe a different outcome.
And do we maybe owe a slight tip of the cap to those contemptible French as well? They took the Germans into PKs and wore them down. The Germans had to play like devils against them, and I think it left them a little flat for the game against the US.
The Bad
A pet peeve of mine is bad sports commentary. Admittedly, it is difficult to define what "good" sports commentary is, but bad commentary usually involves one or more of the following:
1. No pauses, just constant yammering
2. Too many commentators in the booth
3. Constant harping on mistakes
4. Constant thoughts on what this or that team should be doing instead
The Fox team of JP Dellacamera, Tony DiCicco, and Cat Whitehill hit all of these things. They never shut up. They were quick to point out flaws in the US game, even when they were up 5-2 in the final, and just couldn't stop talking about how the team should have done this or should be doing that.
Now, that being said, some of the time they turned out to be correct (DiCicco advocated moving to a 3-3-4 as the US struggled, which is kind of what they ended up doing). But the constant criticism was just too much.
The fact that there were three commentators were awkward as well. JP Dallacamera did, in all fairness, a pretty good job, but DiCicco and Whitehill seemed interested mostly in who could be more critical, who has the best soccer mind. If they are going to do that, they should be joining Mr. Lalas in the pre-game, post-game, or half time shows.
And then of course there is Dr. Joe, the rules guru. Fox started having a rules person you could break to during their NFL coverage and its for good reason; deciphering an NFL rule book requires you to pass the bar exam in at least 3 states.
But soccer is a simpler game. Don't use your hands. Don't kick players in the groin for no reason (unless you are Jens Lehman, then its probably okay). The offsides rule is kind of tricky, but once you get it you get it. A soccer foul is kind of subjective in the application and severity, and there is often discussion as to whether something was or was not a foul and if it did or not deserve a card. Referees, at least to the casual observer, seems mostly to manage the level of violence in the game and make sure it stays in hand, and enforce a handful of rules that are easy to grasp.
Now that's for the casual fan. In reality, I am sure, it is much more involved. If you want a challenge, check out The Guardian's weekly "you are the ref" segment.
But there were no such conundrums in the games I saw, and so Dr. Joe was basically left saying if he thought something deserved a card or not, or is something was a penalty or not. Any commentator worth his salt can do that. Hell, I can do that. And yet, there he sits in a little booth surrounded by papers and books and charts...what the heck is all that stuff for?
The Ugly
FIFA perhaps. The decision to allow the tounrament to be played on artifical turf was deplorable. FIFA of course had their huge scandal break before the World Cup, and it was wise of Sepp Blatter to stay home - having him hand out the winner's medals would have certainly soured the experience. But then he was also the one who said the women's world cup would be more interesting if they wore tighter shorts...
But then there is the rest of us. Search deep in your heart and ask yourself questions of equality. The women's world cup was great, the games were good, lots of quality was on display. Just as we celebrate marriage equality by saying that love is love, perhaps we should say after watching this world cup that football is football.
And yet it seems that the USWNT is a little sister compared to the USMNT, held higher than the WNBA but perhaps not quite so high as the 1967 Cleveland Browns. And it's a shame. Carli Lloyd puts in an incredible performance, one for the ages, something not done in the men's or women's game since 1966 (score a hat trick in a World cup Final), and yet here we are talking already about Hackenberg's arm and Russell Wilson's chastity belt.
But let me point the finger back at me too. If that was the men's team, if Carli Lloyd was Clint Dempsey, I'd probably still be drunk on sheer elation alone, and Mr. Dempsey would be a hero worthy of being tattooed on whatever patches of skin Kat von D has not yet inked over.
But that notion is laughable. The Women's team has achieved way more then the men's team, even as the women's game gets better and better throughout the rest of the world.
Clearly, New York City at least has deemed the team worthy of a ticker tape parade. I'm sure the environmentalists will be unhappy about this (actually, if you read the article, it amazing how many people seem to be a little sore about it) -- but maybe for a day, they can set aside their qualms and let the US celebrate a worthy win.
Women’s World Cup: The Good,
The Bad, and The Ugly.
The Good
The US Women's Team, of course! One can wax poetic about them for days and days, we should be spreading rose petals in their paths, we should recognize them as the conquering heroes that they are. Men in Blazers noted after the semi-final victory against Germany that the team showed a level of tactical flexibility and desire that we could only wish the Men's team had. Their backline was fantastic, their reserves were deep. Jill Ellis had the courage to alter formations and personnel until the team was invited to attack with better midfield support, which was lacking in the first few games.
If they were the good, they were also the lucky. God, they were lucky. Lucky that Julie Johnson didn't get red carded in the game against Germany for denial of a goal scoring opportunity. Lucky even in the yellow cards to Rapinoe and Holiday that suspended them for the game against China and forced the US to find a different and ultimately better way forward.
Carli Lloyd was a revelation, offering what The Guardian says may be one the greatest individual American performances in a final across any sport. And Hope Solo? Credit the back line all you want, but when Germany won a penalty in the semi-final and her against Sacic she channeled the utter craziness of a Jens Lehman, moves away from the goal, takes a little walk about, gets a drink, stalls for time, makes Sacic think a little too much. Maybe that doesn't matter at all, maybe it doesn't get Sacic inside her head, but maybe it means everything. She misses. If that penalty goes in, its a different game with maybe a different outcome.
And do we maybe owe a slight tip of the cap to those contemptible French as well? They took the Germans into PKs and wore them down. The Germans had to play like devils against them, and I think it left them a little flat for the game against the US.
The Bad
A pet peeve of mine is bad sports commentary. Admittedly, it is difficult to define what "good" sports commentary is, but bad commentary usually involves one or more of the following:
1. No pauses, just constant yammering
2. Too many commentators in the booth
3. Constant harping on mistakes
4. Constant thoughts on what this or that team should be doing instead
The Fox team of JP Dellacamera, Tony DiCicco, and Cat Whitehill hit all of these things. They never shut up. They were quick to point out flaws in the US game, even when they were up 5-2 in the final, and just couldn't stop talking about how the team should have done this or should be doing that.
Now, that being said, some of the time they turned out to be correct (DiCicco advocated moving to a 3-3-4 as the US struggled, which is kind of what they ended up doing). But the constant criticism was just too much.
The fact that there were three commentators were awkward as well. JP Dallacamera did, in all fairness, a pretty good job, but DiCicco and Whitehill seemed interested mostly in who could be more critical, who has the best soccer mind. If they are going to do that, they should be joining Mr. Lalas in the pre-game, post-game, or half time shows.
And then of course there is Dr. Joe, the rules guru. Fox started having a rules person you could break to during their NFL coverage and its for good reason; deciphering an NFL rule book requires you to pass the bar exam in at least 3 states.
But soccer is a simpler game. Don't use your hands. Don't kick players in the groin for no reason (unless you are Jens Lehman, then its probably okay). The offsides rule is kind of tricky, but once you get it you get it. A soccer foul is kind of subjective in the application and severity, and there is often discussion as to whether something was or was not a foul and if it did or not deserve a card. Referees, at least to the casual observer, seems mostly to manage the level of violence in the game and make sure it stays in hand, and enforce a handful of rules that are easy to grasp.
Now that's for the casual fan. In reality, I am sure, it is much more involved. If you want a challenge, check out The Guardian's weekly "you are the ref" segment.
But there were no such conundrums in the games I saw, and so Dr. Joe was basically left saying if he thought something deserved a card or not, or is something was a penalty or not. Any commentator worth his salt can do that. Hell, I can do that. And yet, there he sits in a little booth surrounded by papers and books and charts...what the heck is all that stuff for?
The Ugly
FIFA perhaps. The decision to allow the tounrament to be played on artifical turf was deplorable. FIFA of course had their huge scandal break before the World Cup, and it was wise of Sepp Blatter to stay home - having him hand out the winner's medals would have certainly soured the experience. But then he was also the one who said the women's world cup would be more interesting if they wore tighter shorts...
But then there is the rest of us. Search deep in your heart and ask yourself questions of equality. The women's world cup was great, the games were good, lots of quality was on display. Just as we celebrate marriage equality by saying that love is love, perhaps we should say after watching this world cup that football is football.
And yet it seems that the USWNT is a little sister compared to the USMNT, held higher than the WNBA but perhaps not quite so high as the 1967 Cleveland Browns. And it's a shame. Carli Lloyd puts in an incredible performance, one for the ages, something not done in the men's or women's game since 1966 (score a hat trick in a World cup Final), and yet here we are talking already about Hackenberg's arm and Russell Wilson's chastity belt.
But let me point the finger back at me too. If that was the men's team, if Carli Lloyd was Clint Dempsey, I'd probably still be drunk on sheer elation alone, and Mr. Dempsey would be a hero worthy of being tattooed on whatever patches of skin Kat von D has not yet inked over.
But that notion is laughable. The Women's team has achieved way more then the men's team, even as the women's game gets better and better throughout the rest of the world.
Clearly, New York City at least has deemed the team worthy of a ticker tape parade. I'm sure the environmentalists will be unhappy about this (actually, if you read the article, it amazing how many people seem to be a little sore about it) -- but maybe for a day, they can set aside their qualms and let the US celebrate a worthy win.
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