A hero for our times — Aung San Suu Kyi

The Burmese military regime just released the rightful leader of Burma from 20 years of on-and-off house arrest. 

She has committed her life to democracy in the country renamed as Myanmar by the military so much so that she didn’t see her dying husband in London for fear that if she left her homeland she would not be allowed back.

She is a hero by the example of her life and should not be measured by whether or not she brings democracy to Burma.  And no one knows what democracy means to a people under totalitarian rule for at least two generations.


I visited Burma on a lark shortly after Aung San Suu Kyi was popularly elected and then prevented from seating her government.  It was a crazy time to be there.  Stupid in retrospect. 

Burma is a beautiful country with natural and archeological treasures.  

The military desecrates these treasures as easily as it does cemeteries, houses of worship and monasteries.  Some of the country is as ungovernable as are parts of Afghanistan, where tribes and drug trade rule.

No-Where-istan gets a national anthem

We No-Where-istanis need an anthem, something to rally around.  I was worried about how to choose the right song — a song to capture the mood, the state of mind (or whatever) and the gestalt of No-Where-istan.

On Friday, I was mulling this on my way into the subway.  The 42nd Street-Times Square Station often gives me inspiration.  Into the bowels of New York I descended.  I saw this woman getting ready to play her saxophone:




She did not ask for money,  just business cards.  She was just learning how to play, as in she would not make the B squad of the high school band.  Maybe she was an out-of-work Wall Streeter, trying to find her inner Marsalis.

Anyway, she started playing, of all things, No Where Man by the Beatles.  For all I know, she was trying to play On the Good Ship Lollipop, but No Where Man came out in fits and starts from her saxophone.  I was the only one who stopped.  More accurately, I was the only one not running away from the noise. 

Then I thought, “No Where Man.  No-Where-istan.  THAT’S IT!!!  It is a real No-Where-istan. . . .”

Another inspirational moment in the subway.

This nation-building thing is really coming together, eh?

No-where-istan is a country, too (just in my head)

Our President gave an excellent speech today at the UN.  If only words could make wishes come true.

Libya’s leader’s, Qaddafi’s, speech was, well, nuts.  I know maniacs have been leaders of countries, but his speech made me think that anyone could be a head of state whether or not there is electricity firing in your brain. 

So, I could run a country.  I have always wanted to.  That’s it!!

I hereby establish a sovereign nation run by me. 

I think I would be quite good at it until I deposed myself. Hey, sometimes a person changes her mind and MY country is a free country where change is always possible.

Of course, given the logistical constraints of owning a box in the sky in New York City, this newly-formed nation must exist for now in my brain, until I can buy a townhouse on the East Side for my embassy and then renounce the debt under the theory of sovereign immunity. 

Since the nation (until I buy the townhouse) is not easily depicted on a world map, it will be called:


We will have a constitution.  I will be all three branches of government.  We will have debates over issues, but only when I don’t take my meds.

We will have three-day weekends, naptime everyday and one hour daily of singing and dancing to music from the 1960s to the 1980s.  Cell phones must be turned off in restaurants and other places of assembly.  We live in luxury homes, with really nice bathrooms, because life is short — see below for my health care mandate.  (How about that tent for Qaddafi? Nice tent, but I would have gone for living in the house already on the grounds of the estate in Bedford.  So much easier than schlepping your summer home to another country.)

So I need a new name as leader of a new sovereign nation.  How about, “Her Eccentricity, the Blogger Formerly Known as 40andover”. 

Transfats will be permitted because no health care system can afford people living to their tenth decade.  So, for the good of the nation and the economic futures of our children, we will live less than 100 years.  But if, try as he or she might, a person still lives to 100 and beyond, we will still love him or her because we No-where-istanis are tolerant and loving people. 

I haven’t figured out the prickly issues of immigration in, and emigration out, of my head.  There are so many logistical problems. 

But, Glenn Beck, you are hereby denied a visa to my country. 

Anderson Cooper, you can come for short times but no “digging deeper,” or else you’ll give me an unintended root canal.