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From my new piece in the October issue of Wallpaper*, on a recent trip to Ashgabat, the political and cultural hub (as it were) of Turkmenistan. The article is not yet available online but Wallpaper* is on sale at fine newsstands everywhere:
Like most places, Ashgabat has its pluses and minuses. On the upside, expenses are minimal. Even the top-end, five-star President Hotel, located near the cigarette lighter-shaped Ministry of Oil and Gas, will set you back only about $100 per night (or $150 for a suite). On the downside, most everyone staying with you at the President will be a dreary foreign businessman or member of one of the many low-level foreign delegations passing though town, possibly a group from Outer Mongolia’s Ministry of Agriculture, sub-department of water…
One of the city’s most impressive attractions is the Walk of Health, a 37km concrete path cut atop the slopes of the Kopet Dag mountain. At the base is the Garden of the Great Turkmenbashi, a park
and playground featuring a fountain with a huge, perpetually spinning marble ball. Across the road is another monument to the Turkmenbashi in which he is chiseled in marble wearing a jogging suit and running shoes while holding a cup of tea. Curiously, the Turkmenbashi himself was not much of a health nut. He urged all citizens to make the walk at least once a year and ordered his ministers to do so. He o?ered encouraging words to his minions as they embarked on their ceremonial annual hike, before he himself was whisked away by helicopter to the presidential palace. Then he would reappear at the end of the Walk of Health to greet those crossing the ?nish line and to berate laggards.
Also, published next week: Turkmeniscam: How Washington Lobbyists Fought to Flack for a Stalinist Dictatorship (a “marvelous, rollicking exposé of K Street culture” – Booklist).
More from Ken Silverstein:
Commentary — November 17, 2015, 6:41 pm
The Clintons’ so-called charitable enterprise has served as a vehicle to launder money and to enrich family friends.
Freddie Gray’s relatives arrived for the trial in the afternoon, after the prep-school kids had left. By their dress, they seemed to have just gotten off work in the medical and clerical fields. The family did not appear at ease in the courtroom. They winced and dropped their heads as William Porter and his fellow officer Zachary Novak testified to opening the doors of their police van last April and finding Freddie paralyzed, unresponsive, with mucus pooling at his mouth and nose. Four women and one man mournfully listened as the officers described needing to get gloves before they could touch him.
The first of six Baltimore police officers to be brought before the court for their treatment of Freddie Gray, a black twenty-five-year-old whose death in their custody was the immediate cause of the city’s uprising last spring, William Porter is young, black, and on trial. Here in this courtroom, in this city, in this nation, race and the future seem so intertwined as to be the same thing.
Minimum number of cats fitted with high-tech listening equipment in a 1967 CIA project:
Zoologists suggested that apes and humans share an ancestor who laughed.
A former prison in Philadelphia that has served as a horror-movie set was being prepared as a detention center for protesters arrested at the upcoming Democratic National Convention, and presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump fired his campaign manager.
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“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”