4
The value
of silence
BEN THORNE
features editor
11
"Sometimes
the story comes
from the noise.
And sometimes
it comes from the
silence." So be
gan Pulitzer
prize winning
journalist Tom
Friedman' lec- Tom Friedman
ture Wednesday
night, and the following hour was cer
tainly loud with the hush of an enthralled
audience.
Friedman came to Guilford as the
first-ever distinguished professor of the
arts, humanities and public affairs to
deliver a lecture on the Middle east.
Since 1979 he has reported news from
that part of the world, and his distin
guished career has seen the Israeli inva
sion of Lebanon, the OPEC oil crisis and
the end of the cold war. Since January
1995 he has been the foreign affairs col
umnist of the New York Times.
After an insightful lecture covering
such broad topics as politics, religious
extremists and the growing use of the
internet for current affairs, Friedman
met with a much smaller group the fol
lowing morning in Ragsdale for a break
fast with the McNemars, the Guilfordian
staff, and a few other professors and stu
dents. Here he offered more personal
reflections about his life as a journalist.
"I've always been fascinated with
current events," explained Friedman.
"What journalism gives me is a front
row seat to see them and reflect on them.
Every day is different. How many
people can say that about their job?"
There have still been some times,
however, when Friedman has ques
tioned the wisdom of his career choice.
"Once I was in Beirut, in the sum
mer of 'B2, when my apartment blew
up. An Israeli bomber had just hit a fac
tory. Then the plane came back for an
other bombing run. As that was hap
pening, an Arab came out of the factory
carrying an AK-47 in one hand and a
wounded friend in the other and at
tempted to hi-jack my car. I managed
to talk him into joining me and I drove
to the hospital, but I kept thinking 'What
am I doing here?' But sometimes you
do things out of instinct."
That same instinct has made Fried
man an internationally known and re
spected journalist, teaching him to look
for stories not just in what people say,
but in what remains unsaid.
The silence told the whole story for
me, explained Friedman. Which pro
vides a powerful lesson for all of us, as
we try to understand the events unfold
ing around us: to take the time to notice
the subtler messages instead of being
deafened by often meaningless noise.
The Guilfordian
Me and the Libertarians: or a report
on radical, right wing fashion
CORY BIRDWHISTELL
staff writer
Laurie studies education at Agnes Scott,
an all-women's college outside of Atlanta.
She reminds me of Shelby in Steel Magno-
lias. She thinks Janet
Reno is such an evil
bitch.
While planning
my wardrobe for the
1996 Libertarian
Party Convention this
pasty summer, I never
fathomed stumbling
upon Laurie.
Floral dresses.
Shoes with bows.
I imagined women
Libertarians would be female equivalents of
the scary uni-browed Anarchists who an
noyed me throughout high school.
All black. Russian hats.
Or even worse, they'd be Blossoms.
Bandannas. Overalls.
Blossom, a Libertarian from the moun
tains of Kentucky, drives around in her black
pick-up truck with a "Fuck the Government"
bumper sticker. She once accused me, in
front of a very large and amused audience,
of "destroying the capitalistic instincts of our
children.
Behind Blossom, high school enemy
number two: Caleb Orion Brown.
Now one of my best friends. Brilliant
child. George Stephanopolous of the Liber
tarian Party.
Fatigues. Calf-high military boots.
Caleb met me at the Capital Hill Hyatt
on the Fourth of July. He had on a light
blue oxford shirt, blue and white seersucker
suit, red bow tie, and beige Adidas hemp
shoes. He was in his element.
As the communications director for Jo
Jorgenson, Caleb had insider access. And
adoration from 15-year-old Californian anti
government chickadees.
Contempo Casuals head to toe.
My warped sense of humor made me in
filtrate the Libertarian Party Convention.
The Friends of the Library's
Annual Book and Record Sale
Boren Lounge, Founders Hall
Saturday, September 21, 1996
9 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Thousands of books hundreds of record albums
Paperbacks: 50 cents Hardbacks: SI.OO Recordings: SI.OO
features
Caleb had invited me and stupid liberal
democrat that I am, I couldn't stop laugh
ing. Delicious irony forced me to go.
So there I was in D.C., reveling in all my
giggling deceitfulness.
For three days I hung out with members
LIBERTARIAIJI \
PRESIDENTIAL!
//NOMINATING;!
the presidential nominee.
Black silk dress.
My fellow Libertarians couldn't believe
it I was obviously faking it.
They were most seri
ous.
Adorable Jeremy
graduated from Deerfield
Academy and started
MIT this fall. He's young
and naive and damn he
hates Janet Reno, too.
Stephen is a political
science major at Ameri
can University in D.C. He
looks like satan, uses ev
ery drug known to man,
and he wants Janet Reno
dead.
Tim is a certifiable lunatic from Kansas
who dreams of bombing the Justice Depart
ment.
Caleb loves these people. They are his
people.
I just laughed.
Last year USA Today ran a front-page
story about how Libertarians had overtaken
college campuses. Concern about Social
Security and Internet censorship, they
claimed, had made the LP the party of choice
among Gen-X'ers.
September 20,1996
of Arizona's Viper
militia. I almost got
on MTV News. I
dodged C-Span
cameras. I was bar
tender for a wild
party for Jorgenson.
I kept to a black
jeans, black t-shirt
routine.
I snuck in to a
$250/ plate dinner
for Harry Browne,
My warped sense of hu
mor made me infiltrate the
Libertarian Party Conven
tion... Delicious irony forced
me to go.
But alas, the story was as much of a fake
as I was.
The chairman of the party, in a gloriously
inebriated state, boasted about that article
to me. The Libertarian reporter had
struggled to find even the three students he
had quoted. He then filled in the gaps with
the chairman's own rhetoric.
Libertarians can make their movement
of a few seem like a movement of the many.
These radicals of the far, far right are
masters of media, organization, and politi
cal activism. Last week, for example, they
completed their goal of getting Harry
Browne on the ballot on all fifty states, sur
passing the efforts of Ross Perot's Reform
Party.
This party of red-suspendered capitalists
and tie-died hippies works to end taxes, the
military, drug and gun control, Social Se
curity, and the public school system. Its
members trash the ATF and share UN and
Illuminati conspiracy theories.
Unlike the leader of
our two major parties,
they refuse to compro
mise on their principles
for the sake of popular
ity.
The first scene of Ayn
Rand's The Fountain
head focuses on Howard
Roark's dive from a cliff
into a freezing lake be
low. After shooting
across the lake, Roark
————— "pulled his clothes on:
old denim trousers, sandals, a shirt with
short sleeves and most of the buttons miss
ing.
Rand's hero lives for himself, uncaring
of other's opinions of him. From ballet
slippered Southern women to militia-garbed
Idaho teens, Libertarians take the same atti
tude.
I left the convention wearing a Clinton-
Gore t-shirt and proclaiming my support for
welfare as we know it.
My new Libertarian friends just laughed.