I Wouldn't Start From Here: The 21st Century And Where It All Went Wrong
by Andrew Mueller /
2009 / English / PDF
3.7 MB Download
What is a jaded rock journalist doing dodging landmines to talk
to mercenaries and terrorists? And what kind of conversation can
a man who prefers hunting for perfect three-minute pop songs and
tubes of beer have with devotees of fasting and ferocity?
What is a jaded rock journalist doing dodging landmines to talk
to mercenaries and terrorists? And what kind of conversation can
a man who prefers hunting for perfect three-minute pop songs and
tubes of beer have with devotees of fasting and ferocity?
Sarajevo. Jerusalem. Kabul. Belfast. Kosovo. Gaza. Basra. New
York City. Every place where recent history advertises the
stubbornness, intolerance, bloodlust, and cowardice that sully
our collective record, there the intrepid Andrew Mueller goes,
skidding around the globe from failed state to ravaged war zone
to desolate no-man’s-land to try to unpick why we humans seem so
prone to plucking war from the jaws of peace.
Sarajevo. Jerusalem. Kabul. Belfast. Kosovo. Gaza. Basra. New
York City. Every place where recent history advertises the
stubbornness, intolerance, bloodlust, and cowardice that sully
our collective record, there the intrepid Andrew Mueller goes,
skidding around the globe from failed state to ravaged war zone
to desolate no-man’s-land to try to unpick why we humans seem so
prone to plucking war from the jaws of peace.
En route, he meets various influential panjandrums (Al Gore,
Gerry Adams, Bono, Paddy Ashdown), any number of assorted
warlords and revolutionaries, and a sprinkling of peacemakers and
do-gooders. He also manages to get shot at, locked up, and taken
on a tour by one of the world’s most infamous terrorist
organizations. It’s like a Bond film with much, much less sex,
and might appear for that and other reasons to be substantially a
story of disappointment. Yet it’s a surprisingly sunny book given
the mire in which he finds himself.
En route, he meets various influential panjandrums (Al Gore,
Gerry Adams, Bono, Paddy Ashdown), any number of assorted
warlords and revolutionaries, and a sprinkling of peacemakers and
do-gooders. He also manages to get shot at, locked up, and taken
on a tour by one of the world’s most infamous terrorist
organizations. It’s like a Bond film with much, much less sex,
and might appear for that and other reasons to be substantially a
story of disappointment. Yet it’s a surprisingly sunny book given
the mire in which he finds himself.
