WMC 2010

Deadmau5 - Strobe

Ernesto

"I know you are here to kill me. Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man."

--Che Guevara

Made in India

Ancient Rome had the Circus Maximus.

America created Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey.

Canada is home to Cirque du Soleil. 

Australia boasts the Circus Oz.

None of them hold a candle to India. The Diamond Maruti Car Circus in Delhi is a sight to behold.  The most interesting event is the Wall of Death.  Watch and enjoy.

The Road to Indianapolis Goes Through Tehran

The two biggest stars in the 2010 NCAA College Basketball Tournament are sons of Middle Eastern immigrants.  These unlikely heroes have put the Madness into March this year.  They are leading little known colleges from Moraga, Califronia and Cedar Falls, Iowa into the second weekend of play. Building a nationwide following and winning over America's heart on the way. Davids slaying Goliath.

Northern Iowa's Ali Farokhmanesh whose father, Mashallah is an Axis of Evil/Iranian immigrant, hit the biggest shot of this season, knocking off top-ranked Kansas.  With ice in his veins, Farokhmanesh pulled up for an unlikely 3-point shot ending Kansas's dreams of a National Championship.  And in the process amazingly, raising similar aspirations in Cedar Falls, Iowa.  The 6 foot tall in thick-soled sneakers, senior has raised his scoring average to 16.5ppg (from 9.7ppg) in the post season, and his hit 9 key three pointers.  Northern Iowa's victory over Kansas has been the story of the tournament--the biggest upset thus far.  Defeating Michigan State to get to the Elite 8 would only add to a legacy, already established.



Farokhmanesh was lightly recruited out of Iowa City, and even his own journey to Northern Iowa came via playing at junior colleges.  He was considered too small and too slow, and not offered any Division I or even Division II scholarships.  But now it's a different story for the big-shot maker, who's father was on the 1980 Iranian Olympic volleyball team.  Of note, there is currently only one Irani in the NBA--7'2" center Hamed Haddadi of the Memphis Grizzlies.  But the Persian everybody is talking about hails from the heartland.

Omar Samhan of Saint Mary's is averaging 30.5ppg, 9.5rpg on an incredible 75% shooting--by far the best individual performer of the tournament thus far.  The 6'11" center from San Roman, California also known as "The Beast" has taken the little known Gaels into the Sweet 16. And they still have upset on their minds against Baylor this Friday.  Samhan's father is from Egypt, not commonly known for developing basketball products.  In fact, you have go back to the late 80s to find Duke star Alaa Abdelnaby, who was from Cairo and went on to play five seasons in the NBA, after being selected as a first round draft pick with the Portland Trailblazers.  Unlike Abdelnaby, Samhan started out with little fanfare despite being a dominant player in his conference.  With continued play like this, Samhan may be knocking on the doors of the Association this June.

Samhan and the Gaels knocked off  #2 seeded Villanova, 75-68 in the second biggest upset of this tournament.  Samhan's fan base is widely expanding with a rapid number of new Twitter followers and Facebook friends.  His trash talking has kept the media very interested:

“Hey, you impressed me tonight,” Samhan said to (Villanova's Corey) Stokes. “Did I impress you?”

I get it,” he said. “I’m a slow white guy, and I’m overweight. So maybe you don’t respect me because I have good numbers. But after I kill you the first half, what are you waiting for. I don’t know what he wanted. Did he want me to have 40?"

“We’re so old school,” Samhan said. “I’m in low tops. Our star point guard is named Mickey. Enough said.

“You’re supposed to be diplomatic with questions like this,” he said, smiling. “No. 1. Best win ever. Quote it, Omar Samhan said best win ever.”
 
He even has his own blog.
 

Needless to say, the NCAA tournament has a very interesting flavor this year. Of koubideh and kibbeh. The nation is watching these young stars of Arab and Irani heritage doing something special on the basketball court this spring.

 
No word yet from Newt Gingrich or the Tea Baggers on how the terrorists are taking over their most beloved sporting event. If they do speak, Samhan may have something to say about that.
 
Stay tuned.

Spooky Good

Deadmau5 featuring Rob Swire - Ghosts N Stuff

The Comfort of Conformity

Adults push herd-mentality; the need to fit in; to fall into line.  Children of unusual and unique talents and abilities are often the primary victims of this crime. Bertrand Russell says it the best.

Bertrand Russell: Co-operation, The Beginning and End of Virtue

In these days, under the influence of democracy, the virtue of co-operation has taken the place formerly held by obedience. The old-fashioned schoolmaster would say of a boy that he was disobedient; the modern schoolmistress says of a child that he is non-co-operative. It means the same thing: the child, in either case, fails to do what the teacher wishes, but in the first case the teacher acts as the government and in the second as the representative of the People, i.e. of the other children.

The result of the new language, as of the old, is to encourage docility, suggestibility, herd-instinct and conventionality, thereby necessarily discouraging originality, initiative and unusual intelligence. Adults who achieve anything of value have seldom been "co-operative'' children. As a rule, they have liked solitude: they have tried to slink into a corner with a book and been happiest when they could escape the notice of their barbarian contemporaries. Almost all men who have been distinguished as artists, writers or men of science have in boyhood been objects of derision and contempt to their schoolfellows; and only too often the teachers have sided with the herd, because it annoyed them that a boy should be odd.

It ought to be part of the training of all teachers to be taught to recognise the marks of unusual intelligence in children and to restrain the irritation caused in themselves by anything so unusual. Until this is done, a large proportion of the best talent in America will be persecuted out of existence before the age of fifteen. Co-operativeness, as an ideal, is defective: it is right to live with reference to the community and not for oneself alone, but living for the community does not mean doing what it does. Suppose you are in a theatre which catches fire, and there is a stampede: the person who has learnt no higher morality than what is called "co-operation'' will join in the stampede since he will possess no inner force that would enable him to stand up against the herd. The psychology of a nation embarking on a war is at all points identical.

Serene

Andy Duguid featuring Leah - Wasted

DSM-IV

Martin Scorsese is back with a vengeance in Shutter Island.  The eerie sounds of a ship foghorn in the early moments, sets an appropriate creepy backdrop in this thinking man's film.  I must admit that my experience was enhanced by watching the movie late at night, as the only person in the theater.  In fact, the only person in an entire six auditorium cinema.  Had it developed into the horror that I was expecting, things would have gotten just a bit dicey.

There are excellent individual performances by Leonardo DiCaprio and Ben Kingsley.  Kingsley lacks the screen time that his talent surely deserves.  An interesting tidbit about Kingsley, one of the best actors in the industry, is that he was born as Krishna Pandit Bhanji.  His father is of Indian heritage from Kenya.  Mark Ruffalo also does a decent job as DiCaprio's special agent sidekick.

The plot is developed well, and smoothly accelerates ahead with a mix of turns and flashbacks.  Cinematography and character development are excellent, on par with plot and acting.  The dark, brooding atmosphere that Scorsese desires is adequately achieved.  And even though you may figure out what direction the movie is headed, there are enough twists and thinking to keep you guessing until the very end.  And beyond.  It is the kind of movie that will surely generate discussion after it is finished, adding an extra element that makes the film quite intriguing,  In fact, this is at the same time the most satisfying and annoying part of the experience.

Definitely worth watching.  Get some popcorn and check it out, if you haven't already.

Rating:  8 out of 10

We Come In Peace

Pursuit of the Soulless

“War is not about victory or defeat. It is about the total failure of human spirit."

--Robert Fisk

The Pac-Man Cometh

Nobody has been as dominating in the sport of boxing over the past four years as Emmanuel Dapidran Pacquiao aka Manny Pacquiao.  The Pac-Man has been absolutely steamrolling his opponents with a wicked combination of speed and power.  His record at 50-3-2 consists of 38 knockouts, most of them later in his career.  He has had 4 straight KO's--the last three coming against well-regarded opponents:  Miguel Cotto, Ricky Hatton and Oscar de la Hoya.  And after watching these fights, one can easily argue that he is out of their leagues.  It is not his fault that he is in a different stratosphere.  The most worthy opponent is undoubtedly, the undefeated Floyd Mayweather Jr.--but we all know about the meltdown of that would-be megafight.

Pacquiao's last loss was almost five years ago to Erik Morales--a fight he later avenged with an eight round KO in 2006. 

All of this brings us to tonight's match against Ghana's Joshua Clottey (35-3, 1 NC, 20 KOs).  Clottey has seen the tough life in the slums of Bokum--growing up wtih 10 people in 1 room with 1 bed, sleeping in shifts.  He has made his way from the concrete rings and torn gloves of West Africa to the relatively easy streets of the Bronx. 

Clottey is no slouch.

There is some reason for hope that he will put up better resistance than the previous big names who met the canvas at the fists of Pacquiao.  Clottey's last fight against Miguel Cotto was scored a loss, by decision.  But if you watched that bout, it could easily be argued that he won, or at least that it was a draw.  Dethroning a champ like Cotto without a knockout is risky business, and it did not pay off for Clottey.  Notably, Pac-Man did KO Cotto when they met.

Clottey's other losses have come with a valid explanation--disqualification after an intentional head butt versus Carlos Baldomir (he was winning) and the other to Antonio Margarito, when he broke his hand. 

This sets up potential for an exciting match at the new $1.3B dollar Cowboys Stadium in Dallas.  The exciting, flamboyant power of Manny P against the defensive "not enough respect" attitude of Clottey.  The smart money is Pacquiao--evasive, quick and always gunning for the knockout.  Simply put, there is not currently a more impressive boxer, in any weight class (especially given the pseudo-retirement of Mayweather).  But do not be surprised if the fearless 33 year-old from Bokum puts up one of the best defenses the Pac-Man has ever seen.

The prediction here--the Pac-Man cometh.  And the Pac-Man taketh. 

Manny Pacquiao by 9th round KO.

More on the 1971 Genocide of East Pakistan

It is important to note that the genocide committed in East Pakistan, now known as Bangladesh was conducted by the central government on its own people.  Armed forces are supposed to defend and protect.  Not attack, rape and kill its own population.  In 1971, those of Bengali ethnicity were Pakistanis--they just happened to speak a different language than their Western counterparts.  When your own military, that is in place to preserve order and safety, turns their guns upon you--then what do you do?  It is perhaps, one of the worst security scenarios imaginable. 

Here are a few short videos worth watching that shed more perspective circa 1971, supplementing the earlier post on this topic.

Die Zukunft

BMW Vision

All Aboard

Aside from commuters in large cities such as New York, Philadelphia and Chicago, few Americans travel by train.  Railroad service has been largely obviated by the airplane--which is able to move people more quickly and efficiently across the country.  The lack of a true high-speed rail system puts it at a distinct competitive disadvantage.  Time is scarcer, schedules are fuller and lives are busier than ever before.  People want and need to get to their endpoints faster.  Simply put, nobody has time to enjoy the ride.

Given the decline of the locomotive, not many know about Amtrak's Auto Train, a hidden gem in the national transport system.  The Auto Train is a unique train that transports both passengers and their automobiles along the Eastern seaboard for 855 miles.  The route extends from Sanford, Florida which is north of Orlando to a station in Lorton, Virginia, half an hour south of Washington DC.  The train travels in both north and south directions, not so far from the busy Interstate Route 95.

Passengers bring their automobiles or SUVs (and can stuff them to the brim with their belongings) to the Amtrak station at either terminus, where they are  loaded into dedicated auto carrier cars.  Passengers then proceed to their roomy coach seats that recline quite nicely, or if desired, private first-class sleeping compartments.  The train departs at 4PM and arrives the next morning at 930AM at the opposite station.  Average speed is 49mph with a single stop in South Carolina for refueling.

Advantages are plenty--avoiding the long, and often boring drive on I-95 and potentially affiliated speeding tickets; ability to bring a large amount of luggage that would be impossible by air; a relaxing train ride; and a very different perspective on seeing the country.  Most importantly, you have your car at your final destination.  Hassles of rental cars are eliminated and this is can be quite cost-effective if the trip is long-term. In addition, if moving from Florida to the Northeast or vice versa, it is a dependable of way of transporting your vehicle.  Much more so than a shipping company--most of whom lack credibility and have more complaints than you can count, on the Better Business Bureau.  So the next time you are headed for the Magic Kingdom or the serenity of the Keys, hop on to the Auto Train, have the conductor punch your ticket, sit back, and savor the journey.

Interesting facts about the Auto Train:

Original service under Auto-Train Corporation opened in 1971
Bankrupted in 1981
Acquired by Amtrak in 1983
Current service re-opened in 1983
52 trains Northbound
53 trains Southbound
18 passenger cars
33 auto carriers
2 engines
Lone stop in Florence, South Carolina
200,000 passengers annually
$50 million revenue annually
Amtrak's most profitable service
Longest passenger train in the world--3/4 mile in length*
Track owned by CSX Transportation
Maintenance and mechanics performed in Sanford, FL
Capacity of 370 vehicles per train
Significant reduction in greenhouse gases--equivalent to taking off 3478 cars off the road for a full year

*Mix of passengers and auto cars

The Obscenity of Nationalism

“There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people.”

--Howard Zinn

Eclectic 3.0

Time lapse photography by Ross Ching

Unity, Faith, Genocide

In Pakistan's first city Karachi, the beautiful seaside suburb of Clifton is home to the rich and famous. Sandy beaches, trendy shopping, high fashion, fine dining and booming real estate define it. It is the place to see and be seen. Clifton also houses a monument to one of the nation's darkest, deepest and best-kept secrets.

A false slogan.

Driving through Clifton, you will inevitably stumble upon Teen Talwar Chowrangi or in English, the Three Swords Roundabout. There is a trio of large, marble structures resembling swords in the middle of this intersection, and inscribed upon them are three words: "Unity", "Faith" and "Discipline." This moniker was a brainchild of Muhammad Ali Jinnah, considered to be the father of Pakistan, who asserted that the country was founded on these principles. This enormous landmark, commissioned by former Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto is considered to be symbolic of both military might and high moral standards.

The reality is quite different. And in solemn irony, this statue was erected after a series of events that counter those very concepts. A story that if properly recounted would change the engravings on these shiny, tall spears to "Murder", "Rape" and "Genocide." Certainly not a story of unity. Undoubtedly, not of faith. And unquestionably, not one of discipline.

Genocides and massacres are often give the neat title of "operation"--a nice, clean household term palatable for the general public. Operation 14[F]13 in Nazi Germany sent unfit-for-labor, Jewish prisoners to gas chambers for "special treatment." Israeli Operation Cast Lead aimed to kill Palestinian civilians and destroy Gazan infrastructure under the pretext of self-defense. Operation Murambatsvina in Zimbabwe displaced hundreds of thousands, leading to the silent genocide caused by disease and starvation. Other military exercises such as Operation Menu, the US bombing of east Cambodia during the Vietnam War led to the rise of the Khmer Rouge, and its subsequent genocidal activities.

Operation Searchlight is Pakistan's contribution to genocides that chronicle the history of man. In March of 1971, the West Pakistan-based central government began a reign of terror on their eastern, ethnic Bengali population to curb a separatist movement. According to Anthony Mascarenhas, author of The Rape of Bangla Desh, systematic murder by the Pakistani Army targeted five distinct groups:

[1] Bengali (East Pakistani) soldiers and militia
[2] Hindus
[3] Political party members of the Awami League
[4] College students
[5] Intellectuals

A high-ranking US official told Time magazine in an article printed in August 1971, "It is the most incredible, calculated thing since the days of Nazis in Poland." Operation Searchlight and its spillover into the Bangladeshi Liberation War left behind a ghastly number of victims. Estimates vary widely, but actions of the Pakistani Army and its paramilitary forces resulted in 200,000 to 3,000,000 dead. Pakistan's official investigation puts the figure at 26,000 civilians--which is widely, and summarily disregarded. Most experts feel the number is in seven figures and that quite possibly, the Bengali national estimate of 3 million may be accurate. Eight to ten million refugees fled to India. Rape figures against East Pakistani women also vary but have been reported up to 200,000 or even, 400,000. Actual statistics will never be known. But, the pillaging of East Pakistan would even make the likes of Josef Stalin proud.

Stories of horror.

Soldiers taking grown boys from their parents and bayoneting them in the stomach, letting them bleed to death slowly, helpless onlookers arrested. Mothers suffocating their own crying infants to death, in order to silence them, to save large groups of refugees hiding in the fields, well in earshot of advancing troops. Setting the Old City of Dhaka ablaze by flamethrowers, and subsequently machine-gunning thousands as they attempted to escape the burning fires. Men, women, children, babies.

These kinds of blood stains don't just go away.

Pakistan and its ally, the United States refuse to use the term genocide--although internal memos contradict this public stance. Bengali institutions, press, and publications refer to the events of 1971 as a genocide. As do scholars on the subject, and the Guiness Book of World Records which has listed it as one of the top 5 genocides of the 20th century. A century that also saw death and destruction in Rwanda, the Holocaust and Pol Pot's "Year Zero."

No apologies.

Perhaps as sad as the loss of life and shattering of dreams in Bengal, is the refusal of the Pakistan government to recognize the atrocities it wreaked. Generals and officers guilty of the worst of war crimes are instead lauded as heroes and architects of freedom, defenders of honor. Their names are on highways and government buildings. These myths are perpetuated through all levels of society, a combination of ignorance and denial. Entire generations of school children are brainwashed. But eyewitness accounts, refugee crises and mass graves tell a different tale.

So the next time you happen to be in sunny Clifton, driving down Abdullah Haroon Road approaching the roundabout with Bath Island and Chartered Accountants streets, feel the breeze off the Indian Ocean. And look up at the giant, white swords and take time to reflect on the horrors that were carried out under the guise of these fallacious ideals.

False Assumption

"Every empire, however, tells itself and the world that it is unlike all other empires, that its mission is not to plunder and control but to educate and liberate."

-- Edward Wadie Said

Enterprising

Daddy's Grove & Little Mark - Shorebreak (Magic Island Club Mix)

Mc911

The best news stories hail from South Florida.  Disproportionately.  For those of you that haven't noticed this yet, I will refer you to the esteemed Biggie Smalls:

"It's all good. Uh, and if you don't know, now you know, nigga."

Now that this fact is established, you must understand the concept of a fast food emergency.  The urgent and exigent need to consume as much greasy, fatty, artery-plugging fried food available quickly as possible.  Or in the case of South Floridian Latreasa Goodman, McDonald's Chicken McNuggets.  Goodman went to her local Mickey D's, only to be denied the good stuff because all the other natives in her town had already gobbled them up.  She paid for the nuggets but since there weren't any left, the employees tried to substitute some other angina-causing agent disguised as food.  This evenutally prompted 3 calls to 911 and the following statement to the Fort Pierce, FL police:

"This is an emergency. If I would have known they didn't have McNuggets, I wouldn't have given my money, and now she wants to give me a McDouble, but I don't want one."

I'm with her on this one.  You should be able to pick your own poison.  That is not Ronald McDonald's decision.  This is a free country.

And if you're feeling sorry that BK is being ignored, don't.  Jean Fortune of Boynton Beach, FL called 911 last month, telling dispatchers that he was "unhappy with his order", after being told by the cashier of a local Burger King that they were out of lemonade.  Fortune has a solid point.  How the hell do they expect him to wash down his Tripple Whopper with Cheese, 8-piece Crown-Shaped Chicken Tenders, and king-sized fries? 

Scripted

After the disintegration of the Floyd Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao fight, Sugar Shane Mosley has stepped in to fill the void.  The new Mayweather-Mosley contest is clearly a let down after what would have been the biggest fight in years, and presumably boxing's richest.  Nevertheless, it is another opportunity to see the undefeated Mayweather (40-0, 25 KOs) fight.  Mayweather's fight style is not exactly fan-friendly, but he is of the smartest pugilists around, using his lightning quick speed to land punches, and rarely getting hit in the process.  His defensive skills are just as good as his offense--the reason he remains undefeated.

Mosley (46-5, 1 NC, 39 KOs) is more of a knockout puncher but will certainly be overmatched in Vegas on May 1st.  For boxing fans, this remains a must-see bout despite the massive disappointment that followed the collapse of the Pacquiao superfight.

So how do you try to get the public excited about the consolation match?  A pre-fight scuffle of course.  The time-honored tradition of yelling, shoving, and occasionally punching your opponent during the press conference continues.  Anything to sell tickets.  Check out Mayweather and Mosley here.  I don't think there is much going on, other than the ruffling of Brioni suits and the making of plans to meet up for steak at the Bellagio.

Finding Tranquility: From Gulfport to Kyoto

Okinawa fears him. They have to now. Okinawa, the fiercely independent island chain with its own language and culture, has always regarded itself as different from the rest of Japan. Known best for exporting karate and music, this is an entirely different and new experience for Okinawa. The Okinawa Ryukyu Golden Kings are the first and only professional team in the history of the islands. They also happen to be the reigning champs of the basketball Japanese BJ League. And they were supposed to win.

But he had other ideas.

The most intriguing player on the Kyoto Hannaryz just missed nine games due to a calf injury. But he is 40 years old and is turning 41 next week, so you don't harp on that. Injuries happen at that age. At 41, you feel blessed just to be alive. But you know he wants to come back against the champs, to show Okinawa that he still has some gas left in the tank. 41 year olds aren't supposed to be playing basketball unless they are coaching YMCA rec leagues or shooting H-O-R-S-E with their kids. Certainly not playing professional basketball halfway across the globe in a fledgling league, less than five years old. And certainly not him. He was a college superstar. One of the all-time greats.

In his first game back against Okinawa, he played off the bench. In 20 minutes, he put up 12 points and helped spur Kyoto to a 93-76 win. He was a key performer, interjecting energy into the team. He shot 2 for 4 from 3 point range, and added 3 steals. But that wasn't enough. He wanted to add some drama. So 24 hours later, he decided to show the good citizens of Okinawa, what those in Louisiana already knew. The Hannaryz, an expansion team, was playing the Golden Kings again and the game was tied 66-66. Five seconds left on the clock. He shoots. He scores. 15 points and the game winning shot. 68-66. Okinawa now knows.

The win improves Kyoto to 11-15. There is not much talent on the team, and they have undoubtedly missed his presence during the injury. Optimism abounds however, as Kyoto's team has just dropped the champs twice on consecutive nights. But this is not a story about the Kyoto Hannaryz. And it is not a story about Okinawa, and how a quarter of its population (120,000 people) perished during World War II or how several American military bases continue to irritate the locals. It is about him. His journey. And finding peace in Japan.

Chris Wayne Jackson shot the lights outs in high school gymnasiums across Mississippi from the mid to late 1980s. Allegedly standing at 6 feet 1 inches (some of his friends swear he is no more than 5'10"), he had always been a small man in a big man's game. But he could shoot and he could score, dominating in the process. Jackson once made a record 283 foul shots in a row at his alma mater, Gulfport High. A Sports Illustrated article written 21 years ago, noted that his high school coach had a policy of making his players shoot free throws until they missed at the end of practice. Chris Jackson had others ideas. He never missed. So Jackson obliterated and ended that policy--because the kids wanted to go home. He went on to become two-time Mississippi Player of the Year. Perhaps the best basketball player in state history.

But the legend of Jackson was just growing and about to explode from the Mississippi River delta on to the national stage. Chris Jackson signed with the Louisiana State Tigers and changed Baton Rouge forever. He had the most prolific season in the history of college basketball for a freshman player. He set the NCAA rookie scoring record at 30.2 ppg. It still stands to this day. Kevin Durant of Texas tried to eclipse it a few years ago, but he couldn't pull it off. Scoring 30 night in, night out is no joke. Especially as frosh facing bigger, stronger, faster competition than you have ever seen before.

Chris Jackson made LSU relevant again. He brought record-setting crowds into the Louisiana Superdome. Over 54,000 people watched the little man bring down the mighty Georgetown Hoyas and their giant, Alonzo Mourning. University of Illinois’s star player, Kendall Gill said he was the best guard he has ever played against. Not only could he score, but he could pass. Move. Dribble. Dart. Dance. Break ankles. You never forget the day you had to guard Chris Jackson. Because if you had any pride or any arrogance, it was erased after he taught you a basketball lesson.

CJ nailed 172 3 pointers in 2 years. He was a First-Team All-American as well as SEC Consensus Player of the Year in both 1989 and 1990. His absolute dominance at the collegiate level prompted him to go pro after his sophomore year. His abilities vaulted him to the 3rd overall pick in the 1990 NBA Draft, selected by the Denver Nuggets.

Forgotten.

Why is it for a player so accomplished, that if you do a Google search for "lsu basketball chris jackson stats", a different Chris Jackson appears on the LSU website? An obscure college baseball player who ended up signing to play football for a brief stint with the Buffalo Bills in 2007. What happened to the legacy of perhaps one of the all-time best guards to ever play NCAA basketball? Why is he buried so deep in history that even the Internet can't find him?

What is he doing in those cool, wet, green winter mountains of Kyoto anyways?




The story of Chris Jackson is about more than basketball. Much more. According to his college coach at LSU, Dale Brown, "As great a player as Chris is, he's a better person." CJ was a far cry from the typical college player of today or yesteryear. Polite. Humble. Well-mannered. Respectful. A true gentleman. A coach's dream.

The basketball opposition Chris burned for deep trifectas beyond the arc and passed circles around was the easy part. That was just a game. No, that wasn't anything at all. Because you see, Jackson suffers from Tourette's Syndrome, a rare genetic neuropsychiatric disease. It is a tic disorder--and not one that is easy to deal with. It can manifest in many different ways--unwanted movements such as blinking or facial twitching. Or flailing an arm. At other times, there may be uncontrollable crying or blurting of obscene language, or socially inappropriate remarks. Living with Tourette’s can be quite difficult. There is no cure. Treatment may come in the form of various medications--antipsychotics, antidepressants, stimulants; or cognitive therapy and relaxation techniques. To live and overcome this disease is an accomplishment. A real victory, beyond the bright lights, screaming fans and the hardcourt.

To be a world-class athlete in spite of it. This is the stuff of legends.

To be successful in team sports, you not only need the talent and hard-work but you need the right circumstances. One of my best friends in high school was a basketball player that you had to see in person. Kind of like Chris Jackson, but not quite as gifted. He could also shoot the lights out of a gym--he could hit a shot from anywhere. Baseline. Free throw line. Three point line. Half court. Even 3/4 the way down the court, he had an uncanny ability to one-hand them in to the basket during practice. After setting records that included becoming one of the all-time leading scorers in New York State high school history, my friend instead opted for a Division III football scholarship. To play quarterback. Big time college basketball scouts were not keen on his athleticism. To this day, I feel he could shoot the ball with the best of them and have a decent NCAA basketball career. But the circumstances were not right. The opportunities, simply not there.

For Jackson, the circumstances were perfect at LSU. Suspensions of other prominent post players set up an offense that was geared through him and allowed CJ to absolutely flourish. The NBA was a slightly different story. Jackson averaged 14.1 ppg and 3.1 apg his rookie year, 1990-1991. Those were hardly paltry totals, but not what was expected of him and not enough to earn him Rookie of the Year--that honor went to Derrick Coleman of the New Jersey Nets. Jackson didn't quite live up to the billing and hype that he had created at LSU.

But 1991 wasn't really about basketball anyways. It was about the spiritual transformation of CJ, who was known to be deeply religious. It was the year Chris Jackson of Gulfport, Mississippi was becoming a Muslim. The process started in college, when Dale Brown gave him a copy of the Autobiography of Malcolm X. Jackson absorbed the details of Malcolm's life, taking all his words to heart and giving him a thirst for knowledge. To search and learn about freedom and justice. He began seeking out Muslim figures from various inner city ghettoes. He changed as person as he discovered the truth around him. During this process, with his mind not on basketball, CJ endured a dismal second professional year averaging only 10.3 ppg and 2.4 apg. In addition to poor on-court performance, he gained a lot of weight.

By 1993, Chris Wayne Jackson officially became Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf. He embraced the religion of Islam and changed his name, but his journey was far from complete. Although many other famous athletes had converted to Islam such as heavyweight champ Muhammad Ali and NBA superstar Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Abdul-Rauf's new identity sent shockwaves through the sports world. But the biggest shockwave was yet to come, years later. He became rededicated to ball--he shed the fat, 32lbs of it, and had his most productive season, increasing his scoring average to 19.2 ppg and passing for 4.2 apg. He even doubled his rebounding average. Islam focused him both on and off the court. The Nuggets investment started paying big dividends. He earned NBA Most Improved Player honors and consequently a nice, fat contract extension.

Before he injured his calf in East Asia, he had games in which he scored 22, 24, 25, 22, 26, and 22 points. Points are points--no matter the less than stellar Japanese competition. More recently in February post-injury, he has had games of 19 points each in a loss to the Toyama Grouses and a win versus the Fukuoka Rizing. But why is he playing in Japan? So he can make some more money? Or is it because that he is using his God-given talent, for his profession? Or is it so that he can be free again?

Abdul-Rauf began a string of impressive seasons after converting to Islam, with the following stats as a Denver Nugget:

1992-1993: 19.2 ppg
1993-1994: 18.0 ppg
1994-1995: 16.0 ppg
1995-1996: 19.2 ppg (with 6.8 apg)

He led the NBA in free throw percentage in both 1994 and 1996. In fact, in the 93-94 season, he made 219 of 229 free throws for 95.6%. He was one free throw short of breaking the all-time record held by Calvin Murphy of 95.8% that was established in 1981. He performed these impressive feats while fasting from sunrise to sunset during the Islamic months of Ramadan, further adding to the legend that few seemed to recognize. He still had Tourette's--but because he was such a great player, not everybody remembered. Overcoming a sophomore slump, you must understand was not anything.

Then on March 12, 1996--3 days after his 27th birthday, all hell broke loose. Abdul-Rauf refused to stand for the United States national anthem, which as you may know, is sung before every sporting event in the land. He had been silently protesting it earlier, by hanging out near the bench and this went unnoticed. But on that fateful day, it became quite public and started a national firestorm. He had disrespected America. Mahmoud viewed the American flag as a symbol of tyranny and oppression, given the nation's past history. Genocide of the native Americans, slavery, imperialism. Wars, occupation, and the support of Zionist apartheid. It all added up and Abdul-Rauf made what resulted in a life-altering decision, by sitting down on the flag. He was immediately suspended by the league--and eventually a compromise was made between the NBA and Abdul-Rauf. He would stand for the anthem, but simultaneously would be allowed to cup his hands and recite Islamic prayers. Although a deal had been hatched with basketball officials, he was vilified in the media. Treasonous. Traitor. Terrorist. It was clear--Abdul Rauf was not an American. He was an enemy.

The enemy.

Despite Abdul-Rauf having a career best season and leading the Denver Nuggets in scoring for four straight years, he was traded to the Sacramento Kings. He was banished. Punished for his sin. Sent into obscurity. With public opinion firmly against him and Abdul-Rauf unrelenting in his beliefs and principles, his NBA career suffered. His scoring averaged dropped to 13.7 ppg and the following year sank to 7.3 ppg. He only appeared in 31 games with the Kings that year. He was out of the league. Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf was the first political casualty of the NBA. His talent and skills were unquestioned, and he was on the top of his game--only to find himself out of work a short time after. The rest of his career was not so spectacular. Few know of it. He went to play in Istanbul, Turkey. He took a year off. He attempted an NBA comeback with the Vancouver Grizzlies in 2000 that fizzled within a year. Stints followed in Russia, Italy, and Greece. He even played in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia for the team Al-Ittihad for a year. That's the life of a professional basketball player who can no longer make it in the NBA, or in Mahmoud's case—one who is not welcome.

Michael Jordan just played basketball. The best in the world. He never made upsetting comments that challenged America's ethics, its psyche, or its actions. He was a media darling, fans loved him, and corporate sponsors flocked to him. He played it safe. Played it smart. In current times, Lebron James knows how it works. Does he believe in anything? Something more?  Does he want to, or care to take a stand? Change the world? What are his beliefs? What would happen if he decided to protest torture at Guantanamo? Or comment on the illegal occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan?

In reality, Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf is a true American hero. Heroes are not always the ones that bring home gold medals and the accolades, and surely they are not the ones that march into foreign lands on top of tanks, flag in hand. Patriotism, as it is currently defined, clouds intellect, and halts the thought process. It is much easier to anoint those heroes--the ones that can give everybody a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling. It is almost never recognized that dissent is a much truer form of devotion to country--to find and accept the flaws. Setting a foundation in order to improve and change the path. So that justice and freedom rings for all people--both inside and outside of the borders. Anybody can be a cheerleader. Anybody can ride the bandwagon. It takes true courage to challenge the accepted norms--to force introspection and insight.

Kyoto is a city of shrines and temples, relatively untouched by the Allied bombing campaign of World War II. It is famous for its botanical gardens, bamboo forests, Geishas, and modern railway station. But some where in this distant, foreign land is a man from the Bayou free from the burdens and hate thrust upon him. A man who has been playing hoops since the Reagan Administration. Hustling after loose balls, practicing twice a day, and trying to transfer knowledge of the game to his young, raw teammates. Teammates that will never be under the marquis at Madison Square Garden or the Staples Center. Young men who instead are playing in front of crowds at Becon Plaza and the Naha City Gym.

In the NBA Draft class of 1990 there are many big names--Derrick Coleman whose career was marred by off-court problems and injury. Gary Payton, the volatile guard who eventually found redemption with the Miami Heat, winning a championship. Jayson Williams, who may be best remembered for accidentally shooting a limo driver and then covering it up. Slam dunk champions Dee Brown and Cedric Ceballos. Toni Kukoc, trying to fill the void left behind by Michael Jordan. Bo Kimble and his inspired run in the NCAA Tournament after the death of a teammate. Dennis Scott, Rumeal Robinson, Elden Campbell...the list goes on. But in time, all these other athletes will be footnotes in the annals of history. Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf will be the one, who is remembered--for thinking; for questioning; for daring. A man of convictions.

There are too many details to cover in the Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf story--like his troubled childhood, divorce from his first wife as a result of lifestyle changes in order to practice Islam, or his political theories of conspiracy. Or his time as a religious leader, the Imam of a mosque in Gulfport--and its planned expansion which was blocked, as a result of weary views both of Islam and Mahmoud's well-documented flag incident. What is worth noting is the hate mail--calling him nigger and Bin Laden; telling him to fuck off; to go back to Africa. And also the Ku Klux Klan symbols that were unceremoniously spray painted on his Mississippi home. The same home that was later mysteriously torched to the ground, likely an act of hate and arson.

Maybe it's a constellation of all these life experiences that has chased him to find solace on the far side of the Pacific Rim. Or maybe, just maybe--it's the sound of swishes--balls going through baskets; nothing but net. A soundtrack that he has perfected. Music that is so beautiful to his ears, that he is willing to play ball in an upstart league with kids half his age and half his talent, half way across the planet. Ego be damned. For Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf is quite likely at peace, doing what he loves. Adding another chapter to the legend that is his life. The world may not know where Chris Jackson aka Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf is. But you can surely bet that Okinawa does.

Floats Like a Butterfly

"Champions aren't made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them -- a desire, a dream, a vision."

--Muhammad Ali