The anti Davos… 29 January 2009Posted by marisacat in 2010 Mid Terms, Brazil - Lula, DC Politics, Inconvenient Voice of the Voter, Switzerland.
Indians gather during a meeting to discuss rights of indigenous peoples at the World Social Forum, in Belem, Brazil, Wednesday, Jan. 28, 2009. The World Social Forum, the annual countercultural gathering to protest the simultaneous World Economic Forum in Switzerland, is taking place until Feb. 1. [AP/ Andre Penner] link to larger version
As for Davos… it’s from Wonkette… but! any port in a PR storm!
Upon arriving here on Wednesday afternoon, he conducted a series of quiet meetings with foreign leaders that culminated in an intense late-night discussion with Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin. The two former presidents met at a Sheraton hotel where Putin held a private party, following an early evening reception at a local museum hosted by Clinton.
Putin greeted Clinton cordially as “our good friend” as they raised glasses of vodka and then listened to a pianist pound out “In the Hall of the Mountain King.” When the musical entertainment concluded, they moved to a table in a separate room with access strictly controlled by Secret Service and Russian security agents. Flanked by aides and an interpreter, the two men talked for nearly 90 minutes before they rose and walked out together for a few pictures with partygoers and members of Clinton’s entourage.
“In the Hall of the Mountain King” ??? Okaaay. Whatever props up the great men. I can see how, in some idealistic Great Man drivel, they see a scenario of Peer Gynt escaping from the trolls and the king, the great hall tumbling down as they escape. When in truth rather than fiction it is thieves escaping in the night intent on both their bags of cash and their histories of perfidy.
Intermittent Bystander linked to the Reuters report on Erdogan and Putin in Davos… and someone just sent me the NYT version…
Panel discussions at Davos are strictly restricted to one hour, but Mr. Erdogan insisted on responding to Mr. Peres. Red faced, and with one hand grasping the arm of the moderator, David Ignatius of the Washington Post, Mr. Erdogan turned to the Israeli president.
“Mr. Peres, you are older than me,” he said. “Your voice comes out in a very high tone. And the high tone of your voice has to do with a guilty conscience. My voice, however, will not come out in the same tone.”
Resisting efforts by Mr. Ignatius to end the session, Mr. Erdogan continued, saying to Mr. Peres, “When it comes to killing, you know well how to kill.”
Eventually, the prime minister gathered up his papers and departed from the stage, saying, “And so Davos is over for me from now on.”
Of those who braved the weather to meet with President Obama today were just over a dozen CEOs from around the nation, who sat down with Obama to discuss the impact of the weakening economy on business and workers.
“They make things, they hire people,” Obama said of the meeting participants. “They are on the front lines in seeing the enormous problems in the economy right now. Their ideas and their concerns have helped to shape our recovery package in order to get this economy back on track.”
When I read they were served orange juice, well… I just KNEW those great men had donated blood. Surely. Donated, as they stood, poorly dressed for the weather, in the snow. Having walked miles to get to the WH and will have to manage the miles again, in reverse. You just know it!
Afterwards, the dulcet tones of Cole Porter’s “Night and Day” filled the East Room as President Obama shook the hands of the business leaders who had come to Washington, DC, to express their support for his plan.
No lyrics could be heard — just the melody to the song that would otherwise proceed “Night and day, you are the one/Only you beneath the moon or under the sun/Whether near to me, or far/Its no matter darling where you are” — while in the next room, Staff Sgt. Russell Wilson of the U.S. Marine Corps Band tickled the ivories at a tax-payer-financed orange-juice-and-coffee reception awaiting the CEO crowd and their appetites.
There is such a mincing quality to it all… but, who cares. As long as it is not too chilly in that draughty old Southern Manse. If it were I would be so worried. Very very worried.