PrintDecember 21, 2010
My Discovery of America (Progressive America, That Is)
This is a true story, but it could have been written by Franz Kafka. It is 1976. I am a young scientist who has just immigrated to the United States from the Soviet Union. One of my colleagues, Professor K., who knows me through my publications, invites me to his office at UC Berkeley. The weather is lovely, and we decide to continue our conversation at Sproul Plaza. K. is a worldly, cultured man. He asks me about life in my old country, and I am eager to oblige. I try to describe everyday life in the police state, where Big Brother decides what books people are allowed to read, where the Beatles' songs are smuggled in, where atheist indoctrination is a required part of the school curriculum, where teaching the Hebrew language is banned, where gay sex is a crime, and where poets and writers are jailed for writing unsanctioned books. First, K. nods sympathetically, but then I notice that his reaction becomes odd. He looks around...(Read Full Article)
