Edward Said was a controversial figure right until his untimely death of Leukemia in 2003. He was an obdurate critic of Israeli and American foreign policy in the Middle East and an ardent supporter of Palestinian statehood. His supporters eulogized him as one of the “most gentle and thoughtful defenders� of the Palestinian cause (Dirlik 2003). On the other hand, his opponents knew him for heated exchanges and “famously rude, insulting, slanging polemics� (Freund 2001). Among other things, Said’s membership in the Palestine National Council (until 1989), his close relationship with Yasir Arafat, and a widely-publicized photograph showing him throwing a stone at Israeli soldiers, earned Said such titles as: “Ideologue of Terrorism� and “Professor of Terror� (Alexander 2000). Said himself recalls being treated as “a diplomat of terrorism, with a place at the table� (Quot: Economist 2003). Still, for every person who dirtied Said with invective, another was quick to lavish unblemished praise.

In 1824, the United States and Mexico were similar in size and population. Mexico had 6 million inhabitants on 1.7 million square miles of land. The United States had 9.6 million inhabitants on 1.8 million square miles. However, by 1848, the United States had wrested approximately one million square miles from Mexico. This was accomplished thanks to a belief in Manifest Destiny, President James K. Polk, and the American-Mexican war.

The paper begins with a discussion of Manifest Destiny—the ideological backdrop that made the American-Mexican War possible. Next, the paper relates the events of the American- Mexican war, beginning with American settlement of Texas and ending with the Gadsden purchase. Then the paper examines the anti-war protest movement. Finally, it concludes with some observations about the impact of the war on the present-day relationship between Mexico and the United States.

The Post-Cold War story, according to some, goes like this: The United States spent decades, after the World War II, wielding its economic, political, and military might to protect the world from expansionist communism. It lifted high the torch of liberty and dazzled the earth with its light. It opened the reservoirs of freedom so an ocean of opportunity could inundate the planet, restoring peace and prosperity to the parched land. Even the moon proudly waved a star-spangled banner. American submarines and spy-planes governed the sea and the sky; and American troops filled the earth. Heroically, and at great cost, they subdued communism. As the dust from the Berlin Wall settled in the last decade of the twentieth century, the United States finally emerged from the Cold War as the world’s only superpower. Then—now!—the American people surveyed the work of their hands and what they had toiled to achieve, and they saw that it was good.

The United States is perhaps the only country in the world where a candidate running for the office of Head of State can (legally) win the national popular vote but loose the election. Not only is this possible, it happened several times. The most recent occurrence was in 2000, during one of the most controversial elections in the history of the United States. Nationwide, Democrat Al Gore received half a million more votes than Republican George W. Bush. But, given the archaic rules of U.S. presidential elections (plus the influence of friends, family, and conservative judges in high places), 527 votes in the state of Florida tipped the race—and the White House—to Bush.

Yesterday Afternoon I went for a nice walk to the Karnataka/Tamil Nadu Border. There are a couple of small villages on the way, and one medium village called Gundapulam. On the way out, three people offered me a motorcycle ride. I accepted the first offer, but got off after about a kilometer. My added weight was too much for the little bike to handle. Was it generosity or curiosity that motivated these people? Would they offer any villager a ride or just foreigners? Would they offer a city person a ride? City people probably stand out almost as much as foreigners.

People always look at me quizzically, even in Bangalore. I don’t like the attention, though I suppose it’s understandable Everyone notices what is different and unexpected, and as a foreigner I fit those qualifications for many people. What bothers me is my inability to communicate in Kannada. I am a little ashamed of being in a country and not even studying the language. Anyway, my usual response to quizzical looks is to smile. Most people return the smile, but being out and about is still somewhat daunting.

Had such a good time at Navadarshanam on Wednesday that I decided to return. I arrived this morning and will stay through Sunday, or perhaps Monday. Hopefully I’ll get some work done. Right now I am sitting in a well about three meters in diameter and fifteen meters deep. It’s constructed of stone blocks without mortar except for the top five layers. A stone staircase spirals down the sides into the deep. Perched with my laptop about a meter above water-level, I imagine that I am exploring the ruins of an ancient castle (exploring ruins with a laptop?). If the water is down approximately four meters from the top and each stair is sixty centimeters long, twenty centimeters wide, and twelve centimeters deep, what is the total surface area of the well and stairway?

In a small bamboo grove on an organic farm. One of the more beautiful places I’ve been in India. Beautiful not only in observable beauty, but also in intriguing beauty. The solar-power arrays, the apparatus to siphon off methane from cow manure that also produces grade-A compost. The organic cops, the hands-off/nature-on approach to farming, the emphasis on cultivating spirituality along with cops. I like it.

For all its shortcomings, and it has a number of them, Friends World is giving me a very unique education. The school is a perfect match for me: lots of individual attention, lectures by experts and visionaries, visits to the field, learning in the real world--not only the classroom world. And freedom to pursue what one is interested in. Freedom to design ones course.

War. Just saw a powerful movie about war in Sri Lanka. It’s called Peck on the Cheek I don’t know much about the war in Sri Lanka, but all wars, whatever their specifics, cause misery.

I feel a need to see war firsthand. Not to fight in a war, but to see a war. To talk with the soldiers of each side. To see the wounded of each side. I think that maybe firsthand experience is necessary to understand war. But can war ever be understood? I wonder what is behind this desire… Possibly the romance of being in a war zone? Why is that romantic?

I had a thought about next semester: I could study in a Zen monastery. I’d study Tamil, History of Buddhism, Buddhism and Christianity, Liberation Theology, Meditation, and Peace and Buddhism. Then, in Latin America, I could do further studies in Liberation Theology and maybe even do a senior thesis comparing and contrasting Liberation Theology in Latin America and India.

Well, today is my birthday. I think that I will have fun tonight and sleep in tomorrow. They gave me a card with a crossword puzzle. Miriam worked hard on it. I felt very appreciated! It’s also Courtney’s birthday.

It was a wonderful day; we had a fieldtrip to a nearby village where we hiked, took pictures, ate, and heard about (but did not see) wild elephants… We just got back now--I took a shower, developed my pinhole-camera pictures, and escaped to eat. Right now I am at “the lawn‿ the hotel’s outside restaurant. It is, well, a lawn. In the center there is a thirty-foot brick pillar topped with a god who is trying to spear a dragon that shimmying up the side. There are about twenty tables, generously spaced and illuminated by lion-witch-and-wardrobe type lamps. The tall trees that encircle the lawn make it an elegant, private space. It’s cool and the food is good. It’s the perfect place to write.