Saigon, Vietnam: Unpretentious and Vibrant

Saigon doesn't judge you. Saints and sinners operate in harmony next to each other, five-star professional spas serving expensive tea next to "happy ending" parlors with pushup bras. Due to liberal zoning laws, Saigon (aka Ho Chi Minh) is vibrant, thriving, and free--the kind of city I imagined, wrongfully, that similarly-zoned Houston, Texas would be. 

On the bus from the airport to my hotel, I saw a beautiful Buddhist pagoda, 

Photo taken through bus window in the rain.

a high school named after French scientist Marie Curie, and a mosque next to 24/7 cafes and expensive car dealerships. The next day, while walking around, I saw a Hindu temple 

and a French-style Catholic church near the overrated Ben Thanh market. 

By way of comparison, I remember lots of fast-food outlets and big box retailers in Houston, TX and not much else. Yet, Houston is supposed to be capitalistic and laissez-faire, with Saigon playing the prodigal Communist. How did we get to the point where Republican-supported "free markets" created a forgettable city most notable for its hybrid highway/freeway system while Chinese-backed Communism led to small business nirvana? 

Vietnam is the 50th country I've visited. I looked forward to this trip because I enjoy Vietnamese food and am lucky enough to live 20 minutes away from "Little Saigon" aka "Little Vietnam" in San Jose, California. Consequently, nuoc mia (sugarcane juice), bun bo hue, 

Spicy beef soup

and pho are as familiar to me as Chipotle and In 'N Out. Even so, my "expertise" wasn't always useful. For example, the term "vermicelli" isn't used in Saigon. If you want to try the delicious combination of wet noodles, crunchy peanuts, BBQ chicken, sweet carrots, and herbs, you'll have to request Bun Ga Nuong, though apparently the Saigonese prefer this dish with pork aka Bun Nem Nuong, which, as Allah is my witness, I found out after I ate a bowl. 

It looked like chicken, I swear.

After learning Vietnamese for "no pork" (khong thit heo/lon), I'll be okay next time, but it's surprisingly difficult to find vegetarian sandwiches (banh mi chay or banh mi trung) anywhere. In general, Saigon's street food is geared towards college kids (they'll eat anything) and not as good as more formal but still casual restaurants. At 1.50 to 2.50 USD a sandwich or 4 USD for a bowl of noodles, the plastic chairs inside residential storefronts are more attractive than sitting on the street to save fifty cents--especially if it rains. (If you don't like broth/soup, try hu tieu khô or bun cha. As far as I can tell, the difference between the two is bun cha has no broth at all, whereas hu tieu khô gives you broth on the side.) 

Coffee, of course, is everywhere. Vietnam is second only to Brasil as the leading exporter of robusta beans, and you can't walk a few streets without seeing enterprising individuals with coffee carts. My favorite? Hot egg coffee, though it takes time to make properly and not commonly available. (Apparently, milk was rationed or unavailable during the war, so egg was used as a substitute.)

Just the right amount of thick froth.
Mix aggressively to get the proper balance of coffee and sweetness.

Saigon's 24/7 hour cafes and medley of individually-owned small businesses give it a vibrancy Western Europe wishes it had, plus additional bonuses: the preference of motorcycles over cars (which reduces traffic); the youth (adults fight wars so their children can live and forget); and the diversity everyone takes for granted. 

From Museum of Vietnamese History.

Above all, Saigon is a city that refuses to be pretentious, despite its many Mercedes-Benzes. For instance, Bui Vien Street, Saigon's backpacker area, makes Khao San Road in Bangkok feel like a convalescent home. 

My hotel happens to be on Bui Vien street, a result of my habit of never turning down a good deal. I'm now sleeping from 4AM to 11AM because my room is next to a club. (On the bright side, I'm steps away from two legit 6 USD/hour foot massage joints, which are less popular than the other kind.) 

What do I make of all this, while realizing I haven't seen the more Chinese-influenced, allegedly more sedate north? 

First, District 1's frenetic energy means it's not the kind of place new visitors will likely make long-term friends. Everyone is after something, and the smiles you see are most likely a byproduct of your presumed hefty wallet. You'll understand when you get requests for tips 100% of posted prices as if prices, even when posted clearly, are advertising gimmicks. When traveling, I usually try to date someone local, hoping against all odds for something meaningful, but in Saigon, I don't maintain any pretenses--my inability to speak Vietnamese means I'm only able to meet people interested in quid pro quo. 

Second, if you pay attention, you'll notice a fiercely independent streak all around you. Traffic lights, not just signals, are suggestions rather than mandates. Sidewalks are acceptable grounds for Vespas and other single-rider vehicles. When the Grab or FastGo app says to turn right, you can be sure your driver thinks he knows a better way. 

Even corporations are subject to the rule of local independence--my corporate-branded hotel's logo was placed above the building's original sign, a dual existence defeating the consistency sought by multinational businesses. (In case you're curious, the original name is the one used on Google Maps.) 

Third, if you're not too picky, Saigon is like seeing France at a discount. City Hall and the Opera House are French-themed, though adorned with gaudy modern designs that cannot compete with Paris's classy old baroque. For my purposes, I was happy to try frog's legs and escargot at prices I won't pay in Paris. I didn't love either dish, but at least now I know the best part of a snail isn't its larger central mass, which tastes like octopus, but its softer tail, and that frogs have too many bones relative to the meat offered.

Fourth, the War Remnants Museum, a multi-story building which chronicles the Vietnam War in English and Vietnamese, is a must-see. An entire section is dedicated to photojournalists, many of whom died attempting to save the United States from its jingoism. 

From War Remnants Museum.
Observe upper-left hand side of plaque.

Fifth and finally, the black market is strong in Saigon, and international mafias have carved up different areas for themselves. The Japanese, Chinese, and Koreans make lots of money peaceably, as long as you pay your bills. Your massage parlor may be staffed by a delicate-looking 5'1", 50 kg waif, but if any problems arise, she'll call out, and in less than one minute, a much larger, blonde-dyed fellow will appear. 

Indeed, the reason Saigon isn't filled with boring shopping malls pockmarking every other major SE Asian city's skylines is because real estate developers and other rentiers can make stable incomes from tenants of uncertain provenance. Such businessmen have created diverse revenue sources, often 24 hours a day, directly improving the livelihoods of legitimate outfits, especially restaurants and local markets. By way of example, one of the local McDonald's is open 24 hours a day, a feat difficult to accomplish without black market magic, even accounting for worldwide brand recognition and hordes of MBAs. 

The brightly-lit top panel says 24 hours.

As someone who doesn't smoke or drink alcohol, I'm always surprised non-partakers don't want to legalize and tax so-called "sin" products. Governments need revenue to try to match the much faster-paced private sector and though governments almost never succeed in stamping out illicit activities, absent a counterbalancing force, the average citizen is wholly dependent on mafias agreeing to regulate themselves. 

Personally, I'd prefer the revenue for regulation come from products I don't use, which makes me question devout opposition against legalization. Do religiously-inclined people like paying higher taxes? Are they overly optimistic about their local beat cop's desire or ability to eliminate the supply and/or demand for illicit products, which has led to a tacit acceptance of zones where drugs continue to be sold, thereby promoting ghettos? Do they want a police state where armed cops on every corner engage in 24/7 surveillance to ensure proper compliance? Maybe they like the idea of foreigners with more lax attitudes towards acceptable businesses making money that could otherwise go to local citizens? Or perhaps they believe making something illegal automatically removes it from their neighborhoods? Pray tell, what argument against legalization succeeds in light of available evidence, which shows the perennial cat-and-mouse game between police and mafia has failed to accomplish something other than more propaganda, more fear, and more revenue diverted to authoritarianism? 

It's become cliché to discuss Anthony Bourdain's love for Vietnam when discussing SE Asian travel, but I'll do it anyway: 

Going to Vietnam the first time was life-changing for sure; maybe because it was all so new and different to my life before and the world I grew up in. The food, culture, landscape and smell; they’re all inseparable. It just seemed like another planet; a delicious one that sort of sucked me in and never let go. (2014) 

I'm here to tell you it's all true. Bourdain, who died in France, loved Vietnam because the country was him personified: equal parts angel and devil, sinner and saint, unpretentious and one-of-a-kind. Come hungry. 

© Matthew Rafat (2018)

Update: I realized why so many Vietnamese people have residential storefronts, i.e., businesses, often food-related, on the ground floor of their two or three story houses. Vietnam's banking sector is state-owned and credit scores don't exist, meaning people with access to loans are employees with steady paychecks, often government workers. People who aren't government workers and who inherited a home are likely to operate in the informal economy. 

Bonus I: someone mentioned today that motorcycles are more popular than cars because parking spaces and lots in Saigon are almost non-existent. 

Bonus II: much of the Communist appeal--and its attempt to differentiate itself from the superficiality of Western values--revolved around women's equality. It was not uncommon to see women represent family, beauty, and defense, all in one striking image. 

Poem: For Anthony Bourdain

I can explain suicide to you. It's as simple as an analog TV's antenna. 

Some people are lucky--the manufacturer delivers the set ready to watch straight out of the box. The antennas stick up in exactly the right places, making it easier to stay close to home. 

Others, not so lucky. Their antennas need adjusting for a clear picture, or they'll only get static. Most of the time, though, it works so life goes on. 

The rest? Companies call them defective, defying QC. These TV owners keep adjusting their antennas because the pictures and sounds, when they come through, are the brightest and most interesting in the neighborhood. 

And only this TV, this antenna, could show you the world from a Colombian barrio rooftop, a Vietnamese restaurant with plastic chairs, and a tiled floor with foul-smelling Icelandic fermented shark. 

But the antenna, as we mentioned, is defective. No one knows the right adjustments, and nothing dampens its signal. Its sharpness captures every smell, every song note, and every person (especially his first love). It's all in there somewhere, jostling around, looking for a place to call home, until one day, he decides the cacophony is too much, too bright, too much. 

He turns it off.

Dedicated to Anthony Bourdain (1956-2018) 

by Matthew Mehdi Rafat (2018) 

Kitchen Confidential

I recently read half of Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. Some food tips: avoid mussels; do NOT order fish on Monday; and go out to eat on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when the chefs are rested from the weekend.

Anthony Bourdain Speaks in Cupertino, CA (Flint Center)

I'm an Anthony Bourdain fan. (I've written about him before here.) Bourdain's unique blend of intelligence and devil-may-care attitude leads to searing, funny commentary on everything from poverty to Cinnabons. Bay Area residents were treated to a 45 minute Bourdain speech--an extended rant, really--on May 28, 2009. 

Wearing jeans and a sports jacket, Bourdain showed up on stage to wild cheers. He stayed near the podium in the middle of the stage, but never behind it. He didn't have an outline--he spoke from the gut until he ran out of things to say, and then took questions from the audience. 

Bourdain started off by saying he's a good example of what not to do or say, but his two saving graces are his curiosity and his willingness to concede when he's wrong. After that disclaimer, we were off to the races. Bourdain began lambasting Alice Waters and Berkeley residents, both of whom are known for favoring organic food. His point was that Alice Waters and affluent Berkeley residents can afford to buy organic and local food, which is more expensive than non-organic food. He suggested that real organic food is homegrown, and if Alice Waters wanted to promote organic food for the masses, she should show people how to grow food in backyard gardens. At one point, he asked, "Do you think that the people lining up around Popeye's Chicken for 99 cent day are there because the stuff tastes good? No! They're there because it's cheap!" 

Bourdain then talked about how we're fetishizing our food by focusing on ingredients rather than the actual process of cooking. At one point, he joked that by the time a waiter gets done explaining the food on his plate and where it comes from, he's already finished eating the "damn thing." He compared our focus on ingredients to exotic Japanese porn, by which he probably meant that the actors aren't participating in the spirit of the moment, but are behaving in a detached, grotesque manner. 

Although Bourdain admitted to shopping at Whole Foods, he said that these days, organic generally means luxury, and that's not a good development for cooking. After all, real culinary innovation happens when someone takes the table scraps and makes something good out of it. Bourdain said that "cooking" was really the slaves' way of making something good from their masters' table scraps. He had many examples of poverty leading to innovation, mentioning famous chefs and their background. At one point, he asked, "Do you think a rich person looked at a slimy snail on the ground and thought, 'That looks really good to eat?' Of course not! Some poor person was hungry and probably thought, 'If I put enough butter and garlic on that thing, maybe I can manage to choke it down.'"

This is one reason I love Bourdain--he keeps his audience grounded. He believes that innovation comes from starvation, and he reminds us that more often than not, a poor, unknown person is responsible for the food on our plates. (Bourdain believes "The engine of gastronomy is poverty.") You might even say Bourdain's motif is bringing cooking back to the barrio, which explains why he hates celebrity chefs (he's famous for ranting against Rachel Ray). Bourdain did have kind words for Julia Child, though. He said she became famous by demystifying French food and showing people that with some effort, they, too, could make French food.

Basically, to get on Bourdain's good side, you have to recognize the hard-working, innovative people who are responsible for much of our food. That's not to say that Bourdain praises poverty. He reminded us that poverty might look fun when we go on short vacations, but the people in those "bucolic" places want an SUV and satellite TV just like the rest of us. Bourdain didn't talk talk much about fixing poverty, but he wants us to remember who makes the food that goes on our tables. After all, it's not rich people who pick the tomatoes and slaughter the animals we end up eating. One of Bourdain's themes is to remind people that our food has a cost, and the cost is keeping lots of poor people in poverty so they can continue doing the dirty work for us. Bourdain then ranted against poor food choices, asking, "What the f*ck is a Cinnabon? It's got, like, a pound of sugar on it, and every time I'm in the airport, I have to deal with the smell overpowering all the other food choices." On a more serious note, Bourdain said we need to be more careful about what we're feeding our children. He said studies have shown if you put vegetables in a McDonald's wrapper, kids will eat it and say it tastes better than ordinary vegetables served on a plate. (Whoa.) He said he uses reverse psychology on his daughter, Ariane, bashing McDonald's every time he can, and telling his daughter that Ronald McDonald may be mentally-impaired. (Bourdain, being Bourdain, used different words.)

Bourdain also called vegetarians "rude." He said that food is the "purest expression of who we are," and when someone offers you something to eat, you shouldn't tell them, "That looks good, but can I have a spinach salad instead?"

Someone asked Bourdain to name his favorite food. Bourdain said his favorite comfort food is a Vietnamese pho bowl. (I agree!)

Another person asked which countries had the best culinary cultures. Bourdain mentioned Spain and had many kind words for the Spaniards. He also said if you were looking for a cheap, diverse selection of food, Singapore is where you want to be. (I agree! Singapore's food scene was one reason I fell in love with the country.)

Bourdain said he married into a North Italian family, and at home, his wife does much of the cooking. He said he married into the kind of family he always wanted--loud, boisterous, and open.

Bourdain says when he's at home, he's a stay-at-home dad; however, he travels 10 out of 12 months of the year.

Someone asked him about his worst travel experiences. Bourdain named Romania and Uzbekistan. He pilloried Romania's handling of his show, saying that the government did not allow him to go to the backroads to meet with the average residents. He started doing robot-like impersonations of the Romanian government officials on the trip while narrating, "Here is our version of classic Romanian culture..." Bourdain said that after he left, the Romanian papers started calling him a "KGB/Mossad" spy. (I can't wait to see that episode--Bourdain is hilarious when he's snarky.)

Speaking of bad experiences, Bourdain said that he knows his audience likes to see him miserable, but when he travels, he wants to have a good time. He doesn't want to speak badly of anyplace, so when he does become snarky, it's not something that's planned.

If you haven't seen Bourdain's show, "No Reservations" (on the Travel Channel), I highly recommend it. I still haven't read his book, Kitchen Confidential, but I hope to pick it up soon. (A friend loaned me McCarthy's Blood Meridian, but I'm not liking it, so I will probably dump it for Kitchen Confidential.)

All in all, I had a great time hearing Bourdain speak. His genuineness gives Bourdain many loyal fans. One of them even got up on stage to show Bourdain a large tattoo of what appeared to be Bourdain on his leg. Bourdain signed it and hugged him. Not too many celebrities inspire that kind of emotion. Bourdain is an original in a world full of copycats and sycophants. God bless him for being himself.

© Matthew Mehdi Rafat (2009) 

Note: I did the best I could to write down Bourdain's words verbatim, but Bourdain speaks quickly and the auditorium was dark, so some of his quotes may be paraphrased.

Anthony Bourdain on the Decline of Meritocracy

I don't usually recommend television shows, but Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations" is just too good to keep to myself. When I first saw Bourdain's show, I couldn't stand him. Fortunately, Bourdain is a quickly acquired taste, and by the second show, I couldn't get enough. Some people see Bourdain as a snarky alcoholic who gets paid to go around the world and eat for a living. Others, however, see him as confident America personified--unafraid of the foreign, friendly to all, direct, irreverent, and eager to socialize (preferably where alcohol is involved).

If you, like author Chuck Thompson (Smile When You're Lying), are disenchanted with the sanitized media, check out "No Reservations." In one of his best shows, Bourdain travels to Colombia. In between bites, we are treated to stories about Pablo Escobar, a local rap group, and the evolution of Colombia itself. (Other fans praise the Vietnam show as his best, but I haven't seen it yet.)

Bourdain's funniest moments seem to take place in cold weather. In Sweden, after a night out on the tundra, Bourdain goes on a hilarious 30 second monologue about how he wants to be called "Giver of life," because his cigarette lighter provided fire for his crew. In Iceland, Bourdain is looking forward to an annual party, and when it's nothing like promised, he gets drunk and proceeds to mock the entire event. At one point, he busts out his lighter in tribute to an Icelandic a capella group. Later, he names a horse Sarah Jessica Parker (she has a long face).

Mr. Bourdain also has a blog. [Update: looks like link has changed to here: https://www.travelchannel.com/shows/anthony-bourdain/articles/]

Bonus: here is a fantastic salon.com 2006 interview with him. My favorite excerpts are below:

On Bourdain's intense dislike for Rachael Ray:

Q: Will we see you in a year saying, "Oh, I had drinks with Rachael Ray, and actually, she's all right"?

A: Yeah, right. "After the hot-tub incident, I've changed my mind." You know, listen, like I said, I could be wrong. Unlikely. But maybe she's nice to puppies...[Anyway,] If I ever saw her getting trashed on Old Crow, pistol-whipping a vegan after a bar crawl, I would think, "That's an interesting woman. I would like to know her."

[Bonus: https://www.salon.com/2006/10/05/ruhlman_bourdain_foie/]

On immigration:

Listen, in 25 years, I don't remember ever seeing an American-born kid of any income level walk into my restaurant, or any restaurant owned by any of my friends, and ask, Do you have a dishwasher job, or a prep job, or a job for a kitchen porter? We're not willing to do it. If somebody else wants to come over here and do it, that's fine with me...

I also like the idea of people from other places coming to our country and multiplying. It makes for better food, higher expectations, more diversity and cuter people. Foreigners should come to our country and have sex with our womenfolk.

On how laws, P.C., and regulations are driving Americans apart and reducing merit-based values:

I think it's great that kitchens are maybe the last meritocracy, the last workplace where men and women can speak to each other honestly, however offensively that might be, where your value is only in how well you do your job and how well you can talk shit back at somebody. I see that as an admirable quality. I don't like the idea of tiptoeing around each other. I think that if you say something stupid and offensive, somebody should get right up in your face and say, "That was incredibly stupid and offensive, and f**k you too!" Once you enforce it, bring in the human resources department, everybody goes home to their own neighborhoods, and we never really talk.

[More on kitchens as meritocracies here (Judy Joo, 1/22/09, WSJ, "Out of the Fire, Into the Frying Pan").]

Author's note: Bourdain's paragraph above really appeals to me. I am usually non-confrontational, so it's hard to tell my stance on most issues. However, despite my generally flexible nature, I am steadfast when it comes to the idea of meritocracy. Judging people based on their work, not their beliefs, should be the norm, not the exception. As a lawyer, for example, I don't care what a judge's political affiliation is, as long as s/he reads the pleadings. I don't even care if I lose, as long as the rationale makes sense. But give me a judge who's lazy, who got his/her job through charisma rather than hard work, and who relies entirely on law clerks, and it's all I can do not to have a Tourette's "incident" during oral argument and an anger-induced aneurysm afterwards.

Unfortunately, many judges, because of the political nature of the appointment process, got their jobs through charisma rather than a widely-acknowledged work ethic. Once on the bench, judges are given highly trained staff who prepare advisory legal memos on each case. Because of these law clerks--who initially have more overall substantive legal knowledge than the judge--the incentive to read litigants' pleadings is removed. Predictably, most judges lapse into a titular position, where they rubberstamp their clerks' opinions or memorandums of law.

In fact, if you were to put a camera above most judges during oral argument, you'd see only a legal memo prepared by a law clerk. The judge usually doesn't open any of the case files, unless an attorney specifically mentions an exhibit or particular page. Also, a judge knows that if s/he changes a law clerk's proposed opinion, either the clerk or the judge must spend time drafting a brand new opinion. As a result, changing a clerk's proposed opinion creates work (and trouble) for everyone. In this way, the "memo" system fundamentally changes oral argument and the legal system. Rather than seek the truth or a just result, the judge's job becomes corralling the attorneys into the confines of the law clerk's memo.

Inevitably, the "memo" system results in a clash between hard-working lawyers and judges who don't read the pleadings. That's because the "memo" system is fine if you're a bad or lazy lawyer--you get treated the same as a lawyer who's spent hours reading every single case cited in the papers and who knows every detail of his/her case. It's like going to a class with a teacher who doesn't prepare for a lecture and who treats all the kids the same--regardless of whether they did their homework perfectly or didn't bothering opening a textbook. If you're a student in that class, you can't help but be upset.

First, your teacher just got paid taxpayer money for showing up unprepared. Second, your teacher is wasting your time because s/he has nothing to offer. You could have spent the day doing productive, money-generating activities, but you can't, because you have to spend time preparing in case the teacher does have questions, and you have to spend time attending the class. Third, even if the best students don't get discouraged, they are less motivated to do their best. Good students like being pushed--lazy ones don't. Fourth, anyone who cares about the schooling system as a whole should get upset. By failing to work hard, your teacher is incentivizing his/her students to be unprepared or to submit shoddy work. Predictably, everyone starts slouching towards mediocrity, because unprepared teachers discourage students who ask questions or who are passionate about a topic. There's no point in having any substantive interaction anyway, because the unprepared teacher's job isn't to get the truth or the proper result--it's to get the students to be quiet and accept the findings in his/her research assistant's memo. (Some teachers, if they're particularly devious, will try to embarrass vocal students by having arbitrary decorum rules. Such rules allow teachers to divert attention from substantive matters when in a tough spot, while also making well-prepared students appear ill-mannered.) Thus, the purpose of the schooling system--to create an environment that encourages achievement and well-informed debate to maximize accurate results--is perverted, all on the taxpayer's dime. Change teachers to judges, research assistants to law clerks, and students to lawyers, and you might have an accurate metaphor for how our current judicial system works.

To be fair, most law clerks are quite good (almost all of them graduated at the top of their class). They're usually sitting in the back of the courtroom, silently viewing oral arguments. In the current judicial system, good lawyers learn that their job is to divine what the semi-invisible law clerk wants, not the judge. There are at least two major problems with this delegation of judicial work:

1. There is no way for an attorney to question the clerks; in fact, one federal court refused to even give me a clerk's name after I protested the court's refusal to have a hearing.

2. Most clerks usually have no law firm experience, so they don't know much about the actual practice of law. This can result in a new or pusillanimous clerk making a credibility determination based on the size or prestige of a firm rather than the merits of the case. It also results in a system that is disinclined to take any risks, no matter how small. (Better to "split the baby" and award something to each side, even if one side is completely correct. No one will protest too much, except perhaps the client--who is mostly invisible until trial.) Good lawyers quickly learn they need to prepare their clients for settlement--no matter how good or bad the case.

As for judges, they continue to have little incentive to read any of the pleadings. For example, I had one case where a judge got the name of my client's supervisor wrong--even though I had quoted her numerous times in my papers, and her testimony was our main source of evidence. Lest you think this was a routine motion, it was a dispositive motion that eventually dismissed my client's entire case. (This judge's colleague once said the judge isn't enamored with "motion work," and prefers to spend his time on trials. That's fine, except if your law clerk is the only one reading the pleadings, s/he decides whether you have a trial.) I've had a case where a judge pointed to my PO Box mailing address on my pleading caption, thinking I didn't have an office address. (After the first page, my papers actually listed my office address.) I could go on, but I'll spare my readers.

In any case, judging people on their work ethic is the clear solution to solving the timeless issues of racism, sexism, etc. I don't mean we should have a nation of Orwellian Boxers--the result counts, too. But make no mistake--without affirming work ethic as our primary value, we will rely on our prejudices and lesser angels to make decisions, leading to a decline in merit-based progress. Down the road, we'll realize that when meritocracy goes, down goes any nation--and by then, it will be too late.

And on that note, here is a paragraph attributed to Bourdain I can relate to, sans the Mary Jane:

I know there's deep inside (me) some lazy hippie who'd be perfectly happy to lay on the couch, smoke weed and watch The Simpsons all day - I'm really afraid of that guy. I don't like him. I don't want him around. And my whole life is kind of constructed to avoid reverting to that guy: Stay busy. Stay focused. Try not to mess up.

Update on February 4, 2009: I forgot an essential element that needs to accompany work ethic--self-restraint. Without self-restraint, having a wonderful work ethic could mean Germany gearing up for WWII.