A picture is not always worth a thousand words. The recently released photographs of Palestinian and Israeli leaders in Washington during their first direct talks in many months certainly don’t say anything new.

It was the status quo at its best, a mere procession of regional and US leaders before hungry cameramen. The leaders promised “not to spare any effort” and praised the undeniable altruism embedded in the very concept of “peace”. Israeli Prime Minister repeated the martyr-like emphasis of past Israeli leaders regarding the “painful” compromises and sacrifices required to defeat the many obstacles standing before them. Mahmoud Abbas – with his expired presidency over a corrupt Palestinian Authority - smiled, shook hands and spoke unconvincingly about his hopes and expectations.

Writers often romanticize their subjects. At times they even manipulate their readers. A book - or any piece of writing for that matter – is meant to provide a sense of completion. Sociological explanations are offered to offset the confusion caused by apparent inconsistency in human behavior. At times a reader is asked to take a stance, or choose sides.

This is especially true in writings which deal with compelling human experiences. In Behind the Wall: Life, Love and Struggle in Palestine (Potomac Books, 2010), Rich Wiles undoubtedly directs his readers, although implicitly, towards taking a stance. But he is unabashed about his moral priorities and makes no attempt to disguise his objectives.

As I began reading Wiles' book, various aspects struck me as utterly refreshing in contrast to the way Palestine is generally written about. We tend to complicate what was meant to be straightforward and become too selective as we construct our narrative. And we tend to consider the possible political implications of our writings, and thus compose the conclusions with only this political awareness in mind.

On the last night of August, the president used an Oval Office speech to boost a policy of perpetual war.
Hours later, the New York Times front page offered a credulous gloss for the end of “the seven-year American combat mission in Iraq.” The first sentence of the coverage described the speech as saying “that it is now time to turn to pressing problems at home.” The story went on to assert that Obama “used the moment to emphasize that he sees his primary job as addressing the weak economy and other domestic issues -- and to make clear that he intends to begin disengaging from the war in Afghanistan next summer.”

But the speech gave no real indication of a shift in priorities from making war to creating jobs. And the oratory “made clear” only the repetition of vague vows to “begin” disengaging from the Afghanistan war next summer. In fact, top administration officials have been signaling that only token military withdrawals are apt to occur in mid-2011, and Obama said nothing to the contrary.

BANGKOK, Thailand -- American officials hoping to extradite Viktor Bout on Wednesday (August 25) were unable to fly the suspected Russian weapons smuggler to New York, because the U.S. added fresh allegations against him which must be heard or dismissed in a Thai court.

A sleek, white, twin-engine jet from the U.S. reportedly waited in vain on the tarmac at Bangkok's Don Muang air force base on Wednesday (August 25), only to be told that he would not be handed over without going through some additional legal hoops.

"We are not sending Viktor Bout back today. There are still several legal steps to go through," Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva said on Wednesday (August 25).

"Before Bout's extradition can take place, the second case needs to be dropped by the court," Foreign Ministry spokesman Thani Thongpakdi said on Wednesday (August 25).

The unpredictable problem could be quickly sorted out by U.S. officials and a Bangkok judge, allowing Mr. Bout to then immediately be flown to New York, or could meander through Thailand's murky court system resulting in a delay or cancellation of his extradition, permitting him to walk free.

HO CHI MINH CITY, Vietnam -- Cheap facsimiles of $100 bills waft in the tropical breeze, littering sidewalks with Benjamin Franklin's face.

Elsewhere, U.S. President Richard M. Nixon has become a gritty fashion icon, giving politicized street cred to "urban wear" clothes.

Thirty-five years ago, victorious Communist North Vietnam's troops fought their way into South Vietnam's southern port of Saigon and renamed it Ho Chi Minh City, to honor their dead, charismatic, wispy-bearded leader.

Ho's ubiquitous portrait, however, now competes with symbols of America, one of his worst enemies.

Today, on the chaotic streets of Ho Chi Minh City and the northern capital Hanoi, virtually anything linked to the U.S. is prized, including iPhones, Pepsi, and made-in-Vietnam Converse shoes.

The horrors meted out by Americans on this impoverished Southeast Asian nation from 1965 to 1975 are enshrined in museums, which display grim evidence, weaponry, and portraits of devastated Vietnamese from a time when U.S. soldiers called their burnt napalm victims "crispy critters."