Almost a Master

With a good 10 full minutes to spare, I turned my 50-page master’s dissertation in to the Graduate Secretary of the Department of Land Economy on 4 June at 3:50 pm. Though it had been about nine months in the making, you probably received an invitation to fill out my survey only recently so you know that much of the work was done in the last eight weeks. (Also, for those of you who might be wondering, assuming I do not receive any failing marks, at the Senate House on 21 July 2007, a Master of Philosophy shall be conferred upon me).

After the final deadline for the dissertation passed, our class gathered at the Anchor pub, just a block away from the Department to celebrate the culmination of our long year together. After a few beers, I wanted to do nothing other than relax and catch up with all of my family and friends. I am finally getting around to the latter.






Pictures: Post dissertation drinks at the pub (top left and top right) and departmental garden party (bottom right).

Aside from work for the Union and the Gates Council, a few celebrations have also, thusfar, kept me from you (will post more on them soon)...


FORMALS
Before handing in our dissertations, one of my supervisors, Ekin Birol, invited her other supervisees and me to a formal hall at Homerton College (right), where she is a fellow. There, we sat at High Table along with the other fellows. I sat next to a fellow that I dubbed “the medieval fellow” because he studied medieval literature but also held deep beliefs in medieval philosophies of crime and punishment – mainly that anyone who tries to evade punishment for speeding on motorways should be thrown in jail (I will spare you his comments about America, our traffic laws, and the size of our vehicles)...

Also this term, I attended formal halls at Pembroke College, which was put on by the labour club (top left), Wolfson College, which was sponsored by the Gates Trust (top right), and Selwyn College (below).
















I even made it to a few formal events at Girton (my own college, which is quite far from town):









And to Hughes Hall, where my friends, Joseph and Wale (who are also fellow supervisees, shown below with our supervisor, Ekin Birol), and I took our supervisor to a Hughes formal:













INVIGILATING
After finishing up my work, I offered to help Girton College with their examinations. Oxbridge is notorious for having extensive rules and regulations for everything, including examinations. At Oxford, students must wear full regalia to their exams. Here, students need not wear anything special, but as I’m sure is the case at Oxford, there is a complicated system of watchers-over of the examinees. There are “proctors,” “examinations officers,” “supervisors,” “invigilators,” and “attendants,” all with duties to ensure order and proper procedures are being kept throughout the examination period. For most students at Cambridge, an equivalent of their grade point average, is calculated almost solely from the results of their examinations during their third and final year in Cambridge.
Thus, as an invigilator (pictured here), at this very moment I am keeping order by dutifully watching over students. I am also violating a number of invigilation rules by writing this, but since the supervisor said it was okay, I will ignore any orders form the proctors to heed my writing…


OTHER EASTER EVENTS
In May, I organized a Cinco de Mayo fiesta for the Gates Scholars. About 70 people, representing every continent except Antarctica came for cerveza, BBQ, volleyball, and good company. Amazingly, we even had a couple of Gates Scholars from Puebla, Mexico – the place of battle, which Cinco de Mayo fiestas are meant to honour.










The weekend before my dissertation was due, I also joined the Gates Scholars on trip to Sheringham, England – a small town in Norfolk, right on the North Sea coast. There, about 40 Scholars and I played Frisbee and kickball on the beach (yes, it did take quite a bit of time to teach everyone the rules of kickball, but since the last time I played was in elementary school, it was well worth it). Following the fun in the sun on the beach, we made our way to dry land where we enjoyed a pig roast, featuring an 80 or so pound locally reared hog, then a couple pub visits, and finally a late night game of scrabble (for which I placed FIRST and second, in our respective games). Also worth noting, after a long day of fun in the sun I managed to make up a new word while playing scrabble: “J-U-R-E-S,” meaning a female juror, which, if it hadn’t been challenged, would have allowed me to win the second game of scrabble.

















AN HONOURARY BROWN
Though I have been a Brown all of my life, I was only recently dubbed an honourary brown by my Gates Scholar friends of Indian (and Indian American) descent. On Sundays, we often get together for either brunch, lunch, or dinner. Recently, we lost one of our Sunday crew to Yale Medical School, but in the process we’ve enjoyed quite a few good potlucks, barbecues, and brunches in town… We’ll miss you James!


ROYAL VISIT












Pictures Above: The Senate House and the Prince's ride (a Rolls Royce).

I have to admit, the most perplexing part about living here has been the reverence paid to royalty. In the beginning of Easter term, Ramesh, my Girton friend, invited me to the 30th Anniversary of Prince Phillip’s Chancellorship of Cambridge University. It sounded interesting, so I said, “why not.” We were made to arrive a half-hour early at the Senate House and with 10 minutes before the Prince’s scheduled arrival, the Master of Trinity (who’s also the President of the Royal Society) arrived. With all of the big wigs in attendance (many in their full regalia), he was just another face in the crowd – forced to sit about 20 rows back, in the middle of the Senate House. When the Prince arrived, an official announcement was made, a man carrying a scepter led the Chancellor into the Senate House, and the entire audience kept completely silent. No one spoke, coughed, or breathed for almost two minutes before the Vice Chancellor (the actual leader of the University) finally got up to the lectern to give an introduction. Ironically, though the message of her speech was that the Chancellor was not just a figurehead of the university, her speech seemed to provide evidence to the contrary – leaving this audience member wondering why the hell all of the senior university officials bothered attending the event and moreover why they all seemed to have their tails between their legs when the Prince came...

Hope you are well! I hope to keep this updated more frequently now (once every couple weeks).

Meeting the President

I wrote this entry on Friday after one of the most exciting days that the Cambridge Union Society has seen for quite some time. By 22:00 Thursday night, 30 police and security officers were getting ready to comb the Union’s grounds in preparation for the Head of State Conference the next day. As I walked to the Union at noon on Friday, high atop St. John’s Chapel were snipers – presumably part of the security detail provided by Scotland Yard. At the Union entrance I was met with a sea of neon yellow -- an easily identifiable colour for police and emergency service people here in Europe. After making my way through the metal detectors and security guards (by which, funnily enough, I was able to sneak my Swiss army knife), I joined the fellow VIP guests in the Union Chamber where we prepared to meet and take photographs with the President of Iraq.

Just before President Talabani entered the Union's chamber, a hush fell over the 25 or so special guests and stewards. Followed by his entourage of about 15 staff and personal security guards, Talabani entered the chamber and walked up and down the row of guests shaking hands, taking photographs, and receiving an introduction to each of us from the President of the Union Society. Following our handshake and photograph with President Talabani, we each met the Ambassador to the UK, the President’s National Security Adviser, the President’s Chief of Staff, and various other members of his entourage.

Next, the President, and his advisers joined the chairman of the Union’s board of trustees (former Head of MI-6 and Master of Pembroke College, Sir Richard Dearlove) and a select handful of Union officers (including me) in the Union’s dining room (pictured below).
There, just a seat away from the Ambassador to Iraq (and a few seats away from Talabani) I enjoyed my first Presidential dining experience. The meal purportedly cost £100 a head and as added entertainment featured the President’s easily excitable security personnel on either side of the room who would get visibly nervous every time a young member of the society would walk behind President Talabani to whisper something to the President of the Union Society. In the end I'm still not sure what was more exciting, eating a $50 appetizer or listening to “mam Jalal” (Uncle Jalal) tell jokes about Sadam Hussein.

Before I knew it, lunch was over and it was time for the President’s speech and a subsequent session of Q&A. Union members had waited up to four hours to see the speech, but after the generous standing ovation with which the President was welcomed, it appeared most of the audience felt the wait was worthwhile. The President began by reading a prepared speech about his early political and military life and some of the history of Iraq, especially his native Kurdistan. While the content was interesting, the reading of the speech was rather lackluster. Instead, the highlight came during the Q&A session. For about an hour, with a full table of microphones in front of him and flashbulbs snapping in chorus, the President entertained a diverse audience's questions on everything from his days of youth working with the KGB to the current situation in Iraq to “anecdotes” from his two years as President.

Finally, before leaving the President called for his staffers to haul in a huge Indiana Jones style crate of treasure. To the Union Society, the President gave a solid silver and gold palm tree and a tablet of the first law ever written – both encased in a glass for protection and public viewing. After the BBC got some footage of the gifts, which can be seen on the video linked at the bottom of this entry, the Union President and Vice President and I hauled the crated gifts outside to a taxi which was to take us to the vaults at Christ's College. Unfortunately, because the crate was too large, we had to find an alternative place to store our new treasure. "I know... why don't we ask Sir Richard," I thought alound. If anybody would know where to find a secure place for our treasurer it would probably be the former head of MI-6. Indeed he did.

When we arrived at Pembroke's Master's Lodge with our huge wooden crate, a lady who was presumably Sir Richard's wife came outside to ask us what we were doing. It probably didn't help that the Vice President was wearing a top hat, tail coat, and walking around with a cane when we arrived. Suffice it to say, Sir Richard's wife was convinced that this was all part of some prank that we were trying to pull on Sir Richard. Fortunately Sir Richard arrived just as we did and showed us in. The house had just the type of MI-6 standards one would imagine but out of respect for Sir Richard and his wife I should probably leave it at that. In addition to posting these two photos I will also say though, that the brief visit was very cool and was not something I will soon forget.

I have much more to post about the past few months but this will likely be my last entry until 4 June -- the deadline for my dissertation. I hope everyone is well and I look forward to catching up after the 4th!

Link to two BBC videos: http://search.bbc.co.uk/cgi-bin/search/
results.pl?tab=av&q=talabani&recipe=all&scope=all&edition=d -- Click on “Iraqi President in Cambridge.” Or try this direct link to one of the videos:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/mediaselector/check/player/nol/newsid_6640000/
newsid_6648700?redirect=6648713.stm&news=1&
nbwm=1&bbwm=1&nbram=1&bbram=1

Select Highlights from Lent Term

I have spent most of this term soliciting sponsors for the Union Society, attending Union Society and Gates events, designing and editing my survey for my dissertation, and going to class. Aside from that, I have capitalized on a few opportunities to attend formal halls and to make my way into London…

FORMALS
Magdalene
Way back in January, I attended a formal hall at Magdalene College (pronounced “mawd-lin”) – considered one of the most conservative of Cambridge’s 32 colleges in part because it was the last college to allow women to matriculate*. Magdalene’s formals are noteworthy because it’s one of the oldest colleges in Cambridge (established in 1428) and because their formal halls are lit entirely by candlelight:

*See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oh8Tf4H3XEA to watch Borat discuss women in academia with a notable Cambridge academic.

Trinity
In February I dined with the Gates Scholars at Trinity College (the wealthiest college in Oxbridge) at their graduate formal hall. Trinity usually has a nice reception with sherry in their Old Combination Room (where I am shown below), followed by a delicious meal in their grand hall, some famous “Trinity College ice cream", and finally a port reception back in the Old Combination Room.










Many might wonder how one can stay sober through it all – a fair question indeed. In these instances, sobriety may be attributed to a number of possibilities such as teetotalism, banter (for Wikipedia's definition of banter see the *), or a tolerance that builds up after so many of these “sherry-wine-port” events. I often go with the sherry-water-wine-water-port-water technique, but many are not so adept (as the blurred photo below clearly indicates...). Sitting up straight and refraining from unprovoked smiling can become harder and harder as nights like these drone on…
*“Banter is the art of jovial and frivolous conversation and behavior, which can be taken to several different levels, and can be liable to involve crude, offensive sexual joking which may offend some. It is also liable to be very personal, being directed at particular people and may develop into direct offense and 'mickey' taking of a person. The saying 'If you can't take the banter, canter' means that if you take offense to another's comments/actions when they were intended only to amuse, then you should leave.”

Queens and St. John's
I made it to a few other formals during Lent term. Below is a picture of Queens College’s Old Hall, which is smaller than the Queens Hall in which we dined but nonetheless seemed like a nice photo to include. Also, I’ve included a different picture of St. John’s Hall, which happens to be the hall I attend most frequently. In March, when I attended at the last minute with some friends, I narrowly escaped getting kicked out of hall when I tried to switch seats with someone in the middle of dinner. Apparently NO ONE is allowed to stand up until the fellows finish eating, the gong has been rung, and the fellows have left the hall.


UNION SOCIETY ACTIVITIES
Aside from the typical union indulgences – wine tastings, fudge tastings – I decided to take the opportunity to utilize what is apparently one of the only places in Cambridge that has full-sized snooker tables. Consequently, my mates from Girton -- Peter, Khalid, Evan and Matthew -- and I spent about two hours learning to play snooker, which it turns out is actually a pretty fun game. Since the snooker table is about three times the size of an American pool table, “putting” (pronounced like a golfer would) the balls in the pockets takes much more time than American pool. Thus, I’ve found Snooker offers a great opportunity to shoot the shit with someone for about an hour and half…

As Treasurer-Elect of the Union this term, it was my responsibility to sit next to the President-Elect and preside over the student debates at the Union every Thursday night. Subsequently, I would almost always stick around for the main debates, which covered topics such as the United Nations, Israel and Palestine, women in the armed forces, national security, and others. Debaters included David Trimble (Nobel Peace Prize Winner), a couple of former Chancellors of the Exchequer (the equivalent in the US would be the Secretary of the Treasury), the former Foreign Minister, Sir Malcolm Rifkind, a couple of ambassadors (including the current Syrian Ambassador to the UK), the UK’s #1 and #2 playboys (pictured with some friends and my mother), and a couple of World Debating Champions.


ACADEMICS
On the academic front, I FINALLY received my marks from last term: a couple of marks in the 70s and a couple in the 60s. “Oh no,” you might be thinking, “Tristan’s just barely passing.” Actually, a mark of 70 or above is considered a “first,” which is very good. A mark of 55 or below is failure, but scores in the upper 50s to low 60s are about average. Most recently I completed two, two-hour, hand written exams, which consisted of writing two essays for each exam. After living here for a few months and experiencing the many ancient practices of this 800 year old university, I’m a bit surprised they didn’t provide us with a quill and papyrus to write our exams. As far as my dissertation goes, expect an email from me shortly. If you are an American citizen I will be soliciting you for 10-15 minutes of your time to fill out my survey and I will also be asking for you to provide me with any email addresses of friends of family that might be willing to fill out my survey. Speaking of which, in February I was excited to learn that my Program Director has taken interest in my research and has decided to become my second adviser. If we receive some good data we will likely spend some of June and/or July working on a paper that we can submit for publication.

Cambridge Rush Hour

I admit, I'm getting way behind on these posts. This is probably the busiest time of the year for me, so I appreciate your patience.

There should be some exciting stuff added here soon. In the mean time, I thought you might enjoy this one minute video of "rush-hour" in Cambridge, the city with the highest per capita bicycle use in the UK:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XA_Crc67SAM&NR
*Note this is a time-lapsed video

Origins of the Universe, Gentlemen’s Clubs, Parliament – Lent Term

After my last post (almost a month ago), I got bogged down with exams, my dissertation, work in my new Treasurer roles, and the myriad everyday Cambridge events that were not to be missed. This entry’s a bit verbose, so hopefully the subtitles will give you an inkling of the goings on around here.


THE APOTHEOSIS OF HUMANITY
On 24 January, Professor Stephen Hawking gave a special lecture (he usually only gives one lecture per year at Cambridge University) as part of the Gates Scholars Distinguished Lecture Series. The event sold out a day or two after tickets were offered. The day of the event we received 600 e-mail requests to attend the event for which there were only 300 spaces available.

The packed house immediately broke out in applause when Professor Hawking was wheeled in by one of his caretakers. Then everyone shut up and waited to hear one of the world’s most recognizable voices. For about an hour, Professor Hawking presented a slide show of his life and work as a physicist. The presentation was pre-constructed so as to run smoothly (Hawking only types about 15 words a minute) and though difficult to follow for anyone who wasn’t a physicist, was quite hilarious. As a special treat Hawking agreed to field questions at the end. Because Prof. Hawking composes his words by blinking his eye, he only had time to field a couple questions from the audience.

After the talk, the Gates Scholars Council took Professor Hawking and his two assistants to one of his favorite restaurants in Cambridge, Chez Gerard. Arriving a bit late, I had the privilege to sit next to Professor Hawking and his nurse during dinner. I was amazed to learn that he doesn’t really have a strict diet – he dined on steak and red wine for dinner and a Cambridge classic, crème brulee, for desert – though he does take quite a few vitamin supplements.

One scholar, studying astronomy, asked Professor Hawking a question at the beginning of dinner but it took Prof. Hawking about 10 minutes to compose an answer. As he composed his answer, the rest of the table went on chatting, which for some of us seemed a bit awkward and impolite. Hoping we weren’t offending Prof. Hawking, I asked his nurse if this was normal, or if it bothered him.

“It frustrates him that he can’t respond more quickly” she said, “but he’s certainly used to it.”

For much of the dinner, and many days before and afterward, I marveled at how Hawking embodies some of the things that as humans, we are most proud of -- our intellectual capacity, our determination, our optimism, our foresight, our sense of humor, our appreciation for life and things which we have yet to discover…

During the first course, knowing that it would take him forever to answer any of my questions, I decided to let the table know about where Hawking’s real stardom originates – his guest appearances on the Simpsons. Hawking’s face lit up when I told the table of scholars about how in one episode Hawking’s wheelchair produced helicopter blades and flew him away from danger. Later it produced a boxing glove, which then punched Homer Simpson in the face when he tried to stick Professor Hawking with a hefty beer tab.

For the rest of the dinner I joked with Hawking and the Scholars about Hawking’s appearances in the media and television and managed to ask three or four pressing questions about space exploration, life, and the prospects of luring him to the states…

As we left the one other person who had actually read some of Hawking’s books offered to snap a quick photo of us -- a great memento after meeting one of the most amazing individuals to ever live:


THE OTHER FAMOUS CAMBRIDGE SCIENTIST
The Monday before Prof. Hawking’s lecture, Sir Martin Rees, Lord of Ludlow and President of the Royal Society (the British counterpart of the prestigious National Academy of Sciences), gave a speech on “The Role of Scientists in a Dangerous World.”

Speaking with two of the most famous scientists in the world in the same week was a great privilege, but it was also awesome because both Prof. Hawking and Sir Martin Rees had recently held a press conference to move the doomsday clock closer to the doomsday hour of midnight (the doomsday clock has only moved closer to midnight 11 times since its creation in 1947).

In his talk, Lord Rees spoke eloquently about the need for scientists to consider the ethics involved in their work. The next day he e-mailed me an answer to my question about the requirements for Cambridge undergraduate scientists – currently there are no specific requirements for students to undertake coursework in ethics. As the Master of the largest and most influential college at Cambridge, it was good to hear Lord Rees identify a need for some sort of new ethics requirement.


EXAMS AND DISSERTATION
I finished my exams the second week in January, but I won’t find out the results until the end of February. I wrote one of my exam essays on the 1992 Convention on Biological Diversity and why the US Senate Foreign Relations Committee should ratify the treaty. My other exams covered economic valuation methods and economic tools used by policy makers. In my research, I came across a very interesting fact about how America is not alone in its obstinance on international environmental issues. The Europeans – the heirs of the environmental movement of yesterday -- actually accused America of being “scaremongerers” when in the 1980s Ronald Reagan (of all people) wanted to ban the use of CFCs because they were depleting the ozone. So as America tried to weasel out of obligations to address climate change in the 1990s (and the 2000s), so too did the Europeans try to weasel out of stopping the depletion of our ozone layer in the 1980s. In another comical twist, in the 1980s, America said she’d “go it alone” and phase out CFCs by herself if she had to. How bout that – using our stubbornness for good!

My dissertation is coming along. Thanks to all of those who helped with my pilot survey. My sample of Americans from across the country provided almost a perfect cross section of our diverse population. This weekend I’m constructing the main survey, which will be available online for your survey taking pleasure. For those of you who saw the last survey, have no fear, this one has pictures and is thus, less boring! Consequently, you can expect me to hit you up for a survey response in the next few weeks!


BURNS NIGHT CEILIDH
In honor of the Scottish poet, Robert Burns, the British enjoy a night of haggis, whiskey, and dancing on 25 January called a Burns Night Ceilidh. Various colleges around Cambridge hosted Burns nights so I actually had a chance to go to a couple of them. The dancing is surprisingly similar to square dancing back home, and the whiskey seemed quite similar as well.

A Lesson from the Porter:
Porters are not always the friendliest lot, but they’re also not heartless.

When I arrived at the Emmanuel College Burns night I was told, “It’s full. You can’t come in!”

After standing around for a minute, I said, “I thought I’d wait until people left so that I can take their place.” The porter replied,

“You’re not getting in, why don’t you get out of here?”

So I just stood there for a minute and didn’t say a word. “What a jerk,” I thought. Then I started some small talk with him.

“Sure is cold out here, eh? ...Wow, I can’t believe those women haven’t frozen to death walking around here in those dresses... So when did it fill up?”

Finally after about 10 minutes of small talk the porter said, “Why don’t you just go in there? One more person won’t hurt.”

At a different Burns night about a week later, I was a slightly better dancer, but it really didn’t matter since the Scottish dancing involves dancing with one, three, five, or even as many as seven other people. My friend Katie proved to be a good dancer, despite having a few too many Scottish whiskeys…


AN AMERICAN HOLIDAY
Though I no longer spend eight hours every Sunday watching football (I stopped that when I went to college), I do still enjoy playing the game when I can. So in honor of the American holiday that is Super Bowl Sunday, I organized a game of pick-up football. With the Facebook (a new fangled technology that under 25ers use), it was easy to recruit a nice seven-on-seven game at Jesus Green.

After a few hours of football, we made our way to the Baron of Beef for our post-game trip to the pub. Later that night (11:18 GMT) in the Wolfson Court graduate commons room, we gathered to watch the single biggest sporting event in the world.

A good lot of about 30 Americans and a few Germans, Koreans, end English (who had never watched American football before) gathered to watch the game on the big screen. Though the satellite feed came in okay, we didn’t get the infamous American Super Bowl commercials during the game. Instead we tuned in for some crappy British commercials and an even crappier group of commentators. For those of you who are sports fans (or even those of you who aren’t), you most certainly would have been amazed to learn that one of the hosts of their Super Bowl commentator team was none other than Miami Vice star, Don Johnson -- that about sums up the British coverage.


BLUE BLOODED BOXING
At the Union on Tuesday, 6 February, Stevan Riley gave a special presentation of his critically acclaimed film, “Blue Blood,” which highlights the Oxbridge sports rivalry and the lives of Oxford amateur boxers. The film* was quite funny and provided an interesting perspective into the lives of young Oxbridge students. After his special screening I joined Stevan in the bar for a pint. A nice fellow; I couldn’t help but volunteer my services to help get the word out about a great film. A few days later I felt like I was helping launch a Hollywood blockbuster as Stevan and I plotted our strategy for the debut of the film in Cambridge. A few weeks later the film is doing pretty well and will hopefully make its way across the pond…

The following week, the Union hosted the Cambridge Amateur Boxing Club for a “town vs. gown” night of boxing. Though I do not consider myself a boxing fan I have to say I appreciated the skill and dedication of the boxers – they were top-notch (for amateurs).
*For more info on Blue Blood: http://www.myspace.com/bluebloodthemovie


TEA AT WESTMINSTER
When I found out there was still a space on the trip to Westminster Palace (the parliament building of the United Kingdom), I knew that skipping a couple classes would be worth it. The conservative student association was taking a group of students to meet with conservative members of parliament at Westminster and then on to a posh gentlemen’s club (more like a country club than a strip club). I was amazed that many of the British students in attendance were seeing their parliament building for the first time.
Meeting members of parliament was a hoot since the other American and I were proudly sporting our Anglo-American lapel pins and most of the members quickly identified our American roots. One asked if we were Republicans and after saying, “no” he said, “well you’re not going to vote for that cow, Hillary Clinton, are you?” He was obviously joking, and obviously a bit obnoxious, but like most of the MPs we met, they were generally very friendly.

It was interesting to learn that the despite their efforts to court more minorities, conservatives only have one black MP – a man who also happens to be the wealthiest MP in parliament.

Before leaving, we were offered a quick glimpse of the House of Commons where there was currently a debate underway. A few years ago a spectator from the gallery doused Prime Minister Blair with a bag of flour, so when we went, there was a large bulletproof piece of glass separating the area where MPs debate and the gallery where we were. During the debate a friend pointed out meaning of the two lines on each side of the chamber -- one in front of each of the opposing benches. The lines are exactly two arm lengths and two sword lengths apart. In the olden days, when debate began to get heated in the eyes of the Speaker of the House, the members were asked to “toe the line” – i.e. keep their feet behind the lines. My friend also informed me that the phrase “it’s in the bag” originated from the green bag that sits behind the Speaker’s chair. MPs may place petitions pertaining to any matter in the Speaker’s bag.

On the way out we also got a chance to see Westminster Hall, one of the largest unsupported roofs in Europe where, every once in a long while, deceased dignitaries have lied-in-state as part of their funeral.


A VISIT TO THE GENTLEMEN’S CLUBS
After Westminster we headed to the Carlton Club – “the oldest, most elite, and most important of all conservative clubs.” With portraits of William Pitt, Benjamin Disraeli, Winston Churchill, Margaret Thatcher, and John Major, on the walls, drunk and affable men chuckling, sipping drinks, and schmoozing, I received a genuine introduction to the British aristocracy. After a few recruitment plugs by the Carlton members, I ducked out for a tour of the club.

Before I could be convinced to join the “old boys network,” we headed to another elite gentlemen’s club, the East India Club, for dinner. Aside from good food, I especially enjoyed discussing the merits of “the global warming hoax.” I couldn’t convince my dinner mates that global climate change is not a hoax but I did learn that global warming is in fact a hoax. We have all been fooled! D’oh!