The Power and the Money

Leave Clint alone!

Seriously, people, it was funny. My wife is a Democrat, and she thought it was hilarious. So did the Obama campaign! And now the world has “Invisible Obama.” Leave Clint alone!

It was not super respectful, but it was not out of bounds. And believe you me, gentle readers, I am hypersensitive about that sort of thing. I get angry at the use of “this” instead of “the” to refer to the President. I was no fan of President George Bush the Younger, in fact I was the opposite of a fan, and I didn’t even like to call him “Bush” instead of “President Bush” or “George Bush” because that did not show the proper respect. You gotta respect the President, man, even if you wish he would leave office yesterday. I think Governor Jan Brewer owes the current President an apology, a grovelling apology, as does Bill O’Reilly. (You ... do ... not ... interrupt ... the President!) The Congressman who yelled during the State of the Union should be made to beg forgiveness. And oh Sweet Mary has President Obama had to put up with stuff that no person should have to put up with, let alone the President of the United States. I take this stuff serious, old pre-hipster Brooklyn serious. And my wife more so.

So when we say that Clint was fine, then Clint was fine. Leave the man alone!

Anyway, if you were wondering how it played in Farsi, go here.

Syria: the next six months

Okay, so I’ve won the first bet with John Quiggin. More on that in a bit. Meanwhile: what lies ahead for Syria?

Well, the best summary I’ve yet seen can be found in this excellent article from our friends at the Crisis Group. It’s so good that I’m going to quote it at considerable length.

One is tempted to say that the regime has been uniformly cold-blooded and indiscriminate from the start, but that is not so. The conflict experienced several phases: from the regime’s political concessions, both half-hearted (which prompted stronger popular demands) and coupled with brutal repression (which further undermined their credibility); to its so-called security solution (which, by seeking to force entire communities into submission further energised the opposition and pushed it toward armed resistance); and, finally, to its so-called military solution (a scorched earth policy of rampant destruction and looting that turned what once was viewed as a national army into a broadly reviled occupation force).

With each stage, the regime burned yet another bridge, leaving it with neither way back nor way out. Just as the political solution undermined those involved in politics and the security situation wrecked the security services’ ability to operate, so did the military solution eviscerate the army’s credibility.

This strikes me as a cogent summary of the regime’s shifting strategies over the last 18 months. It’s largely forgotten now, but the Syrian government did attempt to make some minor political concessions, including local and municipal elections in 2011 that were (by Syrian standards) remarkably free and fair. If I were to point to a moment when the political strategy stalled out and failed, it would be the parliamentary elections held earlier this year. The government seems to have dithered at first, then decided that the purpose of elections was not to allow opposing views in the legislature, nor to co-opt moderates and broaden the base of popular support, but to reaffirm the legitimacy of the Baath party and the regime. The result was, unsurprisingly, a landslide “victory” for the Baath and a further alienation of moderate opposition.

One thing that’s not discussed is the regime’s strategy towards the Kurds. Short version: they’ve basically given autonomy and near independence to the Kurds in return for Kurdish neutrality. And they’ve done this by deliberately handing over power to the Kurdish faction that’s associated with the PKK, the anti-Turkish Kurds. This is a calculated risk, because it increases the probability of Turkish intervention in Syria. But it means that the Kurdish regions will be run by people who are violently hostile to the opposition forces that are backed by, or friendly with, Turkey. From here it looks like a thoughtful strategy that is, so far, paying off — while there are a few small Kurdish groups working with the opposition, the majority of Kurds look likely to sit this thing out.

As to what may happen going forward, the article offers this bracing analysis:

Of all the ongoing changes, perhaps the most significant and least appreciated is what, over time, has become of the regime. The one that existed at the outset of the conflict almost certainly could not have survived the spectacular killing of top officials in the heart of its traditional stronghold; street combat in Damascus, Aleppo and a string of other towns; the loss of important border crossings with Turkey and Iraq; all amid near-total economic devastation and diplomatic opprobrium. That, a year and a half later, its new incarnation not only withstood those blows but vigorously counterpunched sends a message worthy of reflection.

As its political backbone disintegrates, the regime is being reduced to its repressive apparatus, while the latter itself gradually morphs into an entity more akin to a militia than an army in both make-up and ethos. The regime essentially has been stripped down to a broadly cohesive, hardcore faction fighting an increasingly bitter, fierce and naked struggle for collective survival. It is mutating in ways that make it impervious to political and military setbacks, indifferent to pressure and unable to negotiate. Opposition gains terrify Alawites, who stand more firmly by the regime’s side. Defections solidify the ranks of those who remain loyal. Territorial losses can be dismissed for the sake of concentrating on “useful” geographic areas. Sanctions give rise to an economy of violence wherein pillaging, looting and smuggling ensure self-sufficiency and over which punitive measures have virtually no bearing.

That the regime has been weakened is incontrovertible. But it has been weakened in ways that strengthen its staying power. (emphasis ours)

The regime has been undergoing a very rapid Nietzschean “what does not kill us” evolution. It has become much less effective as a government — indeed, it may end up hardly being a government at all. But it has become much more effective at surviving. And this leads to a sobering conclusion:

There can be nothing more to expect from a regime that, by its very nature – never much of an institutionalised state, no longer genuinely a political entity – has ceased being in a position to compromise, respond to pressure or inducement or offer a viable solution. Which means that the traditional international panoply of actions, from public blandishments to condemnation, from threats to sanctions, is not about to work. And that, while one still can hold out hope for a “clean break,” that moment when the regime neatly collapses or surrenders, it hardly warrants holding one’s breath.

This leads to my own tentative prediction (which matches my co-blogger’s assessment): six months from now, Assad will still be in Syria, and still the leader of an internationally recognized (though very diplomatically isolated) government. It’s possible that he might be assassinated by then, but I don’t think it likely. I don’t see a blue-on-blue coup taking him out now, and I don’t think he’s anywhere close to cutting and running. Foreign military intervention is (for reasons I’ve discussed) unlikely, though not out of the question; watch for Turkish agitation to create a “safe haven” in northern Syria or rebel attacks on Syrian Air Force bases and other assets. (That Turkish plane that got shot down a few weeks ago? Very probably a probe of Syria’s air defenses. As long as those are still working, military intervention will be hard and expensive. So if the rebels suddenly start going after bases and air defense batteries, then that’ll be suggestive.)

Six months from now, the regime may well have lost control of large swathes of the country. Syria will probably be increasingly violent, impoverished, and immiserated. And Assad may well be — in effect — just a powerful warlord in a country that has a number of warlords. But he’ll still be there, and will still be at least nominally the head of state. More’s the pity.

Maybe we shoulda fought for 54-40 ... stop the B.C. pipeline!

If North America is independent in crude oil production and crude exports are banned, then supply or demand shocks in the rest of the world will have no effect on U.S. prices. Prices will still be as high as they are now, but price volatility can be greatly reduced. Awesome!

Matt Yglesias, a smart guy, issued a really dumb tweet on this issue. He then blogged, “But unless you're planning to actually isolate North America from worldwide commodity markets, you're not ‘independent’ of anything.” Well, yes! Sweet Mary, why not isolate North America from worldwide commodity markets? Aaaarrrgh!!! Noooooo! The neoliberal brain eater gets another one! Expand your mind, Matt!

Still, there is a real rub. It is unlikely that North America will achieve oil independence without Canada, that poses a dilemma. Enbridge is trying to build the Northern Gateway pipeline from Alberta through British Columbia. Build that pipeline, and North America will still be linked into global markets. The benefits from crude oil independence will be lost.

We have established that the President can stop hydrocarbon exports from the U.S. Unfortunately, because we totally lost the War of 1812 back in the day, the President cannot stop hydrocarbon exports from Canada. Does that mean that the battle is lost?

Nope. First, the pipeline runs through B.C., but the oil is produced in Alberta. B.C. is holding Alberta hostage for more money. The B.C. government can afford to walk away: the revenues from the deal as-is are that low.

Second, the First Nations are sitting in a catbird seat. The land law is a mess. Consultations could stretch on forever. Payoffs are tough, because there are around forty different groups.

Third, while Ottawa could step in, the federal incentives are not clear. Equalization payments do spread around some of the bounty of Albertan production, of course. But there is an alternative that would give Alberta a new market and let Canada enjoy the benefits of “isolation from worldwide commodity markets”: ship the stuff east! Right now, eastern Canada imports oil from Algeria and Venezuela, which is a little crazy when you think about it. Eastern Canada, then, is at best indifferent to Enbridge and at worst mildly hostile.

Finally, the New Democratic Party in B.C. has already gone all-in against the pipeline. It will be next to impossible to walk that back if the NDP wins, and why would they want to anyway? 56% of voters in B.C. oppose the pipeline, and the NDP looks set to kill the Liberals at the next provincial election.

(I have no idea if U.S. oil companies are trying to sabotage the pipeline. It would be in their interests, but it also might set a bad precedent for Keystone. I suspect not, therefore.)

In short ... this pipeline could very easily not happen. That is the way I would bet. Call it 2:1 odds. Answer your question, Bernard?

Don’t export energy!

The United States should not export hydrocarbons. Right now, there is a big wedge between the U.S. price of gas and the world price. That is a great thing for American consumers, especially industrial consumers, and it insures that the coal industry will die even more quickly than it would otherwise. The price is lower export revenues, but the benefit from those exports will be almost entirely captured by the producers of the hydrocarbons. Why not transfer that bounty to the American people? As an added bonus, without exports the U.S. market will remain disengaged from the world market, insulating us from foreign demand and supply shocks.

I have been saying this for a while. And now T. Boone Pickens agrees with me! And when North America achieves independence in crude oil, we should prevent exports of that too.

Bernard Guerrero asks the question: can we prevent exports? The answer: ¡Sí, se puede! And yes, it is constitutional.

At least four different statutes give the President the authority to restrict hydrocarbon exports. The first is the  Energy Policy and Conservation Act of 1975, which just flat-out says that the President may restrict exports of all hydrocarbons “under such conditions as he determines to be appropriate and necessary.”

The Export Administration Act of 1979 adds some details. (Ah, for the days when Congress gave laws nice simple titles.) Section 3, Article 2, of the Export Administration Act declares that the U.S. can “restrict the export of goods where necessary to protect the domestic economy from the excessive drain of scarce materials.”

Section 7 gives the details of how the power in Section 3 would be implemented. It gives the President the power to requireexport licenses within 15 days of the publication of the restrictions in the Federal Register by the Commerce Secretary. The President is required to “allocate a portion of export licenses on the basis of factors other than a prior history of exportation,” and is allowed to impose license fees. (I suspect that the Supreme Court would strike down the license fee bit, but even if they did, it would not affect the power to require the licenses and limit them to, well, zero.)

The Export Administration Act also automatically bans the export of oil and gas from Alaska without a presidential waiver, unless it goes to Canada or Mexico to be refined in exchange for an equal amount of their crude. (The Act does allow the U.S. to export an additional 50,000 bpd to Canada for its own consumption.) 

The Outer Continental Shelf Lands Act of 1978 bans the export of offshore oil and gas unless the President grants a waiver.

Finally, FERC has to approve all export terminals.

Add it up, and all the United States needs to do to keep natural gas prices low is make the decision that we want to do it.

Now, this is all for natural gas. Oil is different. In part that is because an oil export terminal is a lot easier to build ... but that does not matter. Not only do the above laws apply to oil, but the long-forgotten but-not-repealed Mineral Leasing Act of 1920 effectively bans oil exports without a presidential finding, as long as such oil passes through an interstate pipeline. (Strangely, oil moved by rail cars is not subject to the Act, although the President can of course use the Export Administration Act to restrict its exports.)

What is the problem with oil? Well, one word: Canada. Another post forthcoming.

There is a form for everything

Hat tip: Will Baird.

And for only $1.98 billion! Anyone want to send it back up?

The end of progress? Probably not.

Robert Gordon just published a paper that is very pessimistic about long-term economic growth. It essentially argues that the big wave of innovation from IT is over. Infotech may radically reorder our lives in the coming decades, but it won’t allow us to make more stuff. Moreover, the big important inventions have been made. His example: would you rather give up all the electronic and IT stuff invented after 1975, or keep all that but have to abandon indoor plumbing?

As a metaphor for the state of play, that nails it. If it doesn’t for you, that is because you have never had to live without indoor plumbing. At night. In the rain.

There are three ripostes to this thesis. The first is that Moore’s Law ain’t over yet. (More to the point, Koomey’s Law ain’t over yet: it states that the energy efficiency of computers doubles every 18 months.) If Moore and Koomey hold for another decade or two, then there is the possibility that AI will emerge seemingly out of nowhere, sometime in the 2030s. Economic growth will surge, but prepare yourself for the robot riots. (I will be joining the rioters, and training my young son to lead them.)

There are reasons to think this will not happen, possibly ever. (I can hope!)

The second riposte, then, is that even without singularian magic, better computers will improve productivity the old-fashioned way. Consider construction robots. My co-blogger and I went back-and-forth on this with our friends Will Baird and Carlos Yu. We concluded that construction is a super-conservative fragmented industry, so there will be no revolution (or robot riots) ... but there will be a slow trickle out of construction (and vehicle operation) just as there was out of agricultural labor, elevator operation, and telegraph delivery. That could keep growth going for a while yet. (Matt Yglesias points out some other sectors ripe for growth here.)

But there is an even more convincing riposte than the above two. It comes from Carlos Yu, and it is based on work by Alexander Field, an economic historian who has pointed out that the Depression-wracked 1930s were likely the most technologically-productive decade of the past century.

What then is the third riposte?

SHORT VERSION: Stop focusing on the damn computers!

LONGER VERSION: “After reading Alexander Field’s book, I distrust the simple correlation in timing between technological improvements and productivity growth. In any case, Gordon is over-focused on the immediate implications of information technology, and he’s missed the one under his nose: biotechnology.

“The Green Revolution doesn’t show up much in American productivity statistics, since our crops had already been improved through a hundred-plus years of scientific selective breeding, but it does show up in global productivity. (Though biotechnology is probably keeping our crop yields high in the biological arms race against disease and pests, but that’s hard to quantify with typical productivity measurements.)

“Cheap effective medicines is another. For many health issues, we can actually buy a few more years of life — or more than a few — at prices far below the break-even point. If we take his question about toilets versus computers and switch it to toilets versus postwar improvements in the applied biological sciences, I think we’d be carrying our chamberpots to the outhouse.

“And now we’re entering the second wave of improvements in biotechnology, ones based on the information technology revolution. It might be a dud. I strongly suspect not.”

The beer test

Lots of pundits say that people vote for candidates with whom they identify. They vote by tribal markers, in other words.

That is wrong. If it were right, I would support Chris Christie. Because, hey, the accent, the attitude, the body language, I love that guy. I don’t want him anywhere near public office, but I love that guy. He is bad for New Jersey, but still. I don’t have to vote for the dude.

Tribal. Even if he is from Jersey. And says weird stuff about polls. I mean, you can dislike President Obama for all sorts of reasons, but the man doesn’t suffer from tacking too close to the polls. 

Then again, Christie sometimes pronounces “all” in some sort of weird generic not-Jersey way, so maybe I don’t love him as much as I thought. Ni modo. Make up your mind, Chris! Oll or awl?

You lie!

I am ignoring the electioneering. Icky jokes from the Romster, wild accusations from El Reid. Same old, whatever.

Now, I have to add that this is not 1996. There are issues at stake, we know what they are. And even if it were a 1996-like election, well, I thought 2000 was a 1996-like election, and didn’t that turn out to be stupid!

Still, it is quite feasible to ignore all the electioneering while still paying attention to the election.

But ... it is a little jarring to hear Rick Santorum just straight up lie when he says that President Obama has waived the work requirement for TANF. You can find the executive order in question here. Condensed:

“HHS is issuing this information memorandum to notify states of the Secretary’s willingness to exercise her waiver authority under section 1115 of the Social Security Act to allow states to test alternative and innovative strategies, policies, and procedures that are designed to improve employment outcomes for needy families. ...

“States must develop evaluation plans that are sufficient to evaluate the effect of the proposed approach in furthering a TANF purpose as well as interim targets the state commits to achieve. States that fail to meet interim outcome targets will be required to develop an improvement plan and can face termination of the waiver project. ...

“As described below, however, HHS will only consider approving waivers relating to the work participation requirements that make changes intended to lead to more effective means of meeting the work goals of TANF.”

I find this kind of thing quite annoying. The big thing that the states might do is cut the number of hours of work down from 30. It also would keep states that fail to place 50% of recipient families in work.

I should add that I grew up on AFDC, with a mother who railed against the program because she had to work off the books. She even had to study off the books. Switching to TANF was a great thing. Handing flexibility to governors does not repeal the work requirements.

(Oh gosh. Now Nikki Haley is making stuff up about immigration policy. But she is right that the Administration blocked photo ID requirements to vote and interfered with Boeing’s attempt to move production to South Carolina. I am not sure that she understands the definition of “mack-daddy,” though. I mean, what does it mean for an airplane to be a mack daddy? Does the phrase have a different meaning in South Carolina than it does in South Florida?)

OK, back to my real work.

Burying the lede

The New York Times had a story today about the changing geographic location of U.S. oil imports. We’re importing more oil from Saudi Arabia.

The problem with the story is that it began with an argument that makes no sense at all. “This reversal is driven in part by the battle over Iran’s nuclear program. The United States tightened sanctions that hampered Iran’s ability to sell crude, the lifeline of its troubled economy, and Saudi Arabia agreed to increase production to help guarantee that the price did not skyrocket.”

Huh? The U.S. didn’t buy Iranian oil. So having Saudi make up for a boycott of Iranian oil shouldn’t increase U.S. imports from Saudi Arabia. That is just a seriously dumb pair of sentences.

Later on there is another nonsensical statement: “Domestic oil production has been surging the last three years and is up 10 percent this year. But most of the new production is coming from shale oil fields in North Dakota and Texas that produce high-quality sweet grades. Many of the refineries on the Gulf of Mexico coast are designed to refine the heavier oils that the United States has traditionally imported from Venezuela, Mexico and Canada.”

Uh ... nothing in that paragraph is false, but Saudi oil isn’t heavy either. Why then would refineries prefer Saudi crude over American? Surging production in the United States is not going to suddenly cause refineries to import oil from Saudi Arabia. That is another weird statement.

So if it isn’t the Iranian situation, and it isn’t surging U.S. production, why are we importing more Saudi oil? Well, the answer is buried down in the story: Mexican and Venezuelan exports are dropping, and the pipelines don’t exist to move U.S. and Canadian crude to the Gulf refineries. “Mexican and Venezuelan production has been sliding the last few years, and much of that oil has been replaced by Canadian oil from oil sands. While Canadian production has been increasing rapidly in recent years, there is not enough pipeline capacity.” (They didn’t mention U.S. crude, it’s true, but the point still holds.)

In fact, when you look at the numbers (which the article in fact does), it is entirely driven by a fall in imports from Mexico. Refineries are buying Saudi crude (over U.S. production in faraway North Dakota) to make up for Mexican shortfalls.

I am not sure that there is a big national security impact from this, given that as long as North America is a net importer, there is not a whole lot that will protect us from price fluctuations. But it does highlight Mexico’s problem.

Reforms are afoot ... but it is unclear if they will work. More on that eventually. The point for this post is that the Times buried the main part of the story in a fog of words.

The rogue state of Canada?

Who’s the bad boy of international arbitration? Well, the Argentine Republic, of course. And then the Bolivarian Republic. Followed to nobody’s surprise by Ecuador. But the country formerly known as Dominion is in the running: number six most sued according to the United Nations. That is deucedly odd, when you think about it.

What the hell? Canada? Well, Canada is a member of NAFTA, and Chapter 11 of NAFTA protects property rights. So when any level of government in Canada does something that an American or Mexican investor can credibly claim is tantamount to expropriation, they become vulnerable to arbitration.

Now Canada is about to ratify the Washington Convention, which would open up ICSID to its companies. In the way of Canada’s hyperfederalism, the hold-up is with provincial ratification. (In many ways, Canada is the European Union with elections and an army.) Given the country’s experience with NAFTA, there is some worry about the possibility that ICSID will overrule the country’s sovereignty.

These worries are overblown. The Washington Convention does not automatically open the way for foreign investors to go to arbitration. That requires either domestic enabling legislation or an investment treaty. What ICSID does do, is allow companies to enforce their judgments against third countries in Canadian courts. That is something that Canada’s myriad mining and petroleum companies will embrace.

Now, it also means that NAFTA arbitration decisions can be enforced around the globe ... but the fact of the matter is that Canada is a small country right next to the United States, and NAFTA decisions could already be enforced there. Giving French courts the same privilege is not going to change a whole lot. It also removes the ability of national courts to review arbitration decisions, but as a practical matter NAFTA had already removed that. Note that the Ontario Court of Appeal’s recent decision had to do with a case against Mexico.

In short, for those of you who worry about this sort of thing, Canada is already in deep with the big legal web of international property rights protection. (I like to call it the Empire, because it is cool and ironic.) Joining ICSID won’t change anything.

Counting chickens, jumping guns

So I think my first bet on the Assad regime is looking pretty safe. For those of you coming late, a year ago I bet that Syrian dictator Bashir Assad would still be in power one year later — that is, at 5:00pm EST on August 31, 2012. John Quiggin of Crooked Timber took the other side. The loser will pay $50 to a charity of the winner’s choice.

A quick glance at the calendar will show that I haven’t won this yet. In theory, the rebels could storm the presidential palace tomorrow. Or Assad could get on a flight to Moscow next Tuesday bound for a long quiet retirement in a beachside villa outside of Uglegorsk. But I don’t think it’s very likely. Assad has some problems! But he’s probably not going to fall in the next 18 days.

Close followers of this blog may recall that back in April, I challenged John to a second bet: viz., that Assad would continue in office for another six months beyond August 31. He accepted. So it’s entirely possible that I could win this bet, but lose the second one. These things happen; let’s see how it goes.

Meanwhile, two things. First, you may recall that this bet arose out of a more general discussion on the topic of dictators and their place in the world of the early 21st century. I’m mulling over a “one year later” post on this topic. Comments and suggestions are welcome! Second, I have to think about what charity I’d like John to pay his $50 towards. Suggestions on this are most definitely welcome. (No, I’m not going to ask him to contribute $50 to the Scaife Foundation. Play nice.)

In which I fail the cricket test

The cricket test was proof of two things. (1) The U.K. deserved to lose its empire; and (2) the country was going to have trouble with immigration. Basically, it said that if you were an immigrant and you rooted for your country-of-origin in a cricket match, then your loyalties were suspect.

That is as stupid as it sounds. I could understand a “Sign up if the Germans attack” test, or a “Don’t cheat on your taxes” test, but a cricket test? Come on, man. Tens of thousands of Americans have died for this country even though they would fail that. Not in cricket, we don’t play that in America. But other real sports.

Me, I just failed it. I am rooting for Laura Sánchez. You have a problem with that?

Queens, and a basketball question

I just got back to civilization. I was in Queens. And I was in Queens without the Internet! OK, I occasionally checked email, but that was it. I suspect that such a vacation will be impossible within not too many years. (Click the link for knowledge about the horrifying future to which information technology is inevitably bringing us.)

But this post is not about Queens. It is about sports. I spent much of today watching some awesome Olympic soccer matches. Mexico-Senegal had me biting my nails ... and almost (but not quite) feeling sorry for the way Senegal botched it up in overtime. Then there was that foul-fest between Brazil and Honduras. I am still sad that the little Hondureño underdog lost. And the tight U.K.-ROK game: I admit it, I was rooting for the home team. In between all that, I hoped to see  Lithuania beat the U.S. of A. in basketball.

I am currently watching the Czechs defeat poor Brazil in beach volleyball. That is a great sport. One of the people below is of Brazilian descent: my heart goes out to you. The Czechs stole it.

What is it about international basketball? In every other sport, I root for the U.S. of A. above all. But there are exceptions: at the World Baseball Classic, I root for the crazy underdog teams: Australia and the Netherlands and the like. In basketball, the United States is not merely dominant; it is ridiculously dominant. Ludicrously dominant. Stupidly dominant. Yeah, there is 2004 and FIBA, but in both cases we didn’t send our best players. So I get happy when somebody gives the U.S. a run for its money. (I am not a hypocrite: we dominate beach volleyball too, but that is all about Kerri and Misty.)

Which, finally, brings us to the Knicks. I always used to say that the minute the Nets move to Brooklyn, then I switch loyalties. And I am still tempted! But ... well, “Brooklyn” no longer means what it used to mean. I no longer feel it. I mean, dude, if you had proposed Atlantic Yards in 1985 nobody but nobody woulda opposed it! I feel much more at home in Queens, which outside a few parts of LIC and Astoria is still not cool. Although Sunnyside is becoming suspiciously nice.

So I am thinking that I will stay with the Knicks. But I am unsure. After all, there is that wide swath of Kings County, from Bay Ridge to Canarsie to East New York, that is AFAICT pretty much ungentrified and uphip and old-school.

And, well, even the annoying full-of-hipsters and morons-who-hate-new-buildings part of Brooklyn has its charms. Although it would be more charming if there was a 40-story tower on top.

And since the Nets arena is smack in the middle of Atlantic Yards, then rooting for the Nets would be sticking it to the people who don’t like tall  buildings! Or it would, if I had the same sorts of emotions that motivated Sarah Palin supporters. Which I just might, at least where Brooklyn is concerned.

Plus, the Knicks let Lin go to Houston. I mean, WTF?

So, Nets or Knicks? Advice wanted.

Olympic soccer, the Canadian part of America, and the fact that most inhabitants of this continent are not of Italian descent

I recently quit Facebook. I received two types of responses. First, “I will miss your sports updates!” Second, “Thank God you won’t be sports-posting anymore.”

Anyway, since baseball is no longer an Olympic sport, the only thing you had to fear was soccer. So I would like to extend my congratulations to the Canadian team. I love you all for defeating our former imperial overlords today. And I love you for being the part of America that doesn’t pay taxes to Washington. But you will go down on Monday.

Tancredi is a great player. I have to say that I am proud to have somebody with such a good American name is doing so well for America. Sorry, I mean Canada. You know, that really well-run well-organized beautiful wonderful not-united state up north of the Vermont border. I know, intellectually, that Tancredi is not an American name. But when I moved to California at age 18, I was stunned to discover that Italian-Americans did not make up 30% of the U.S. population. That is true, ask Dev Patnaik, a fellow New Yorker from Poughkeepsie. In late 1988, in California, he gently took aside this downstate boy and explained that most of America was not, in fact, Italian.

While I am here talking about nothing (and posting from a public terminal in an undisclosed location, before returning to the world tomorrow) does anyone know why the American team played in white shorts instead of navy-blue ones?