So, the maniacal Gawdawful Gaddafi asserts in an interview with the BBC that Libyans love him. Boy, this guy is even better than Baghdad Bob.
Gaddafi: "They are not against us. No-one is against us. Against us for what? Because I'm not a president. They love me. All my people are with me, they love me all. They will die to protect me, my people." Christiane Amanpour: "If you say they do love you, then why are they capturing Benghazi and saying they're against you?" Gaddafi: "It's al-Qaeda. It's not my people. They came from outside."
The US ambassador to the UN, Susan Rice, says Gaddafi is "delusional:"
Ms Rice said the fact he was laughing at questions while "slaughtering his own people" showed that he was disconnected from reality.
Watching him say that his people love him reminded me of the evil genius Evita's song:
Even as a kid barely able to hold a newspaper I got to know a little bit about Argentina. It was always in the news--bad economic conditions, dictatorial governments, and later on the Falklands War. And, of course, the news always punctuated with the word "Peronistas". But, there was something about Argentina that captured my imagination--truly my imagination because it was way before the Web, and back in a resource-constrained small town, it was more imagination with the little bit of news than anything else .... And then there was the sports aspect of Argentina that always made sure it was in the news. In tennis, it was Guillermo Vilas who made sure that I knew where Argentina was. No, I don't play tennis :-) I am just an information junkie! And, of course, football (soccer) and Maradona.
The net result: Argentina has always been on my list of places to go to. Andrew Lloyd Webber's Evita then was the icing on the cake.
As if I did not have enough reasons, the coffee maniac in me then read the following and is now ready to pack my bags :-) (this is an excerpt; read the complete post here.)
The One-Hour Cup of Coffee
Buenos Aires is a great coffee city. No, you won't find myriad varieties of beans here, or some great technological advance in the brewing process, but this is a city that knows the art of drinking coffee well, if not the perfect technique to brew it.
In Buenos Aires, you don't get a 20-ounce latte in a to-go cup, in fact there is nearly no coffee to-go in the city, except for a chain of coffee shops called Havanna that offer the amenity. But very few take them up on it (and those that do tend to get strange looks from passers-by).
Instead, coffee here is enjoyed slowly, at a sidewalk cafe, sitting still, in an actual mug, with no plastic lid getting in the way. Throughout the day, locals take their time with it, chatting up friends, admiring the street scenes, or reading the newspaper. Coffee here is a more measured decision, because instead of five minutes you are more likely to spend an hour with your cup.
The coffee is strong, and best enjoyed in smaller quantities--the cortado is my favorite, an espresso with just a spoonful of steamed milk on top (identical to the drink of the same name in Spain). Others prefer the inverse, the lagrima, which is a cup of steamed milk with just a spoonful of espresso (lagrima is Spanish for "teardrop"). There's also cafe con leche, cappuchino, and a wonderful take on hot chocolate called submarino (which I'm saving for a later post).
