Lack-Query

Absent Comrades

2011-11-11T11:08:00.000-05:00

Today is the day that most people either commemorate Veteran's Day or Remembrance Day, to honor the veterans of the armed forces and also to commemorate the end of the First World War, probably one of the more horrific wars that mankind has ever been involved in. An entire generation of young men was virtually wiped out, and entire societies were dramatically changed by the events that transpired during the war or afterward.

It's not a real secret that the First World War is one of my primary interests in history. The war marked the real end of the nineteenth century and shook Europe and the world out of the nineteenth century and brought everyone into the twentieth century. Everything that we associate with the modern world has direct roots in the First World War, from the Berlin Wall to the troubles in the Middle East. The world was forever changed and there was no turning back.

What really keeps my passion going is the fear that it will become a forgotten conflict. In the United States, WWII and Vietnam are the two wars that have lasted in the public memory. Korea has been relegated to a dustbin but has seen a resurgence in people pushing it back into the forefront, as evidenced by the presence of a Korean War memorial on the National Mall. But the First World War has not seen the same treatment, save for a little known memorial tucked away in the woods lining the National Mall (which I had written about previously).

Go and visit it.

In this talk about the nations who commemorate this day, we forget about the other side, the other players in the war. We forget about the Germans who faced the Allied Powers in those mucky trenches, who faced similar conditions and the same terrifying specter of a twentieth-century war death from a nineteenth-century mindset. The soldiers on the front also deserve the same honor that those who came from the US, UK, France, Belgium (heck yeah Belgium), Italy, and elsewhere received from their home countries.

Sometimes all you need are wooden crosses and a field of poppies.

Which is why it troubled me to discover that those soldiers who did not have the opportunity to return home have been figuratively been buried in the collective memory of Germans. They had the misfortune of being overshadowed by the only thing that could top the horror of the First World War: the Second World War, the Holocaust, and everything else that came afterward. These are men with names and ages. Men such as Martin Heidrich, a 20 year old musketeer, and August Hütten, a 37 year old lieutenant from Aachen. Yet they live on in relative anonymity, most likely forgotten by whatever family survived them and most definitely forgotten by the nation as a whole.

Being forgotten is a terrible thing for anyone, but especially those who decided give it all. I find it especially tragic that those German soldiers suffered the horrors of artillery bombardments, poor living conditions, and chemical warfare to only become buried in the mud of the trenches and the sands of time. One can only hope that no one forgets any veterans from any war.

Je Me Souviens

2011-09-11T11:50:00.000-04:00

As a child, I loved going to library and checking out the VHS copies of the Peanuts television specials. Most of them were fairly light-hearted fare -- we are dealing with the adventures of perpetual elementary school students, a beagle, and his cadre of yellow bird friends. However, there was one that, while amusing, definitely had a more poignant message than some of the others. (I remember this because, unlike the other Peanuts specials, I only saw it once and I still recall the message.) It is called What Have We Learned Today, Charlie Brown?

Beagles make interesting pilots, for one.

The special follows up on the gang's exploits following their student exchange experience in Paris. (The most "foreign exchange" I ever encountered in elementary school was wondering if the school lunch pizza was made in China.) On the way back to London, car malfunctions derail their journey and eventually they wind up camping on a beach in Normandy overnight. Upon waking up, Linus realizes that it is Omaha Beach - one of the beaches stormed by Allied troops on 06 Jun 1944 (D-Day.) After Linus recounts the story of the D-Day invasions, they wind up going to Ypres and the fields of red poppies. Linus recites the famous poem "In Flanders Fields" written by Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, a field physician at Ypres. The group all realize the sacrifice the service members made and the mark the wars had on people. Linus then turns and asks "What have we learned, Charlie Brown?"

On the anniversaries of September 11th, I always hear people saying and posting on Facebook/Twitter the phrase "never forget." And we should never forget what happened and make sure future generations who were not alive that day have a sense of what happened that day. In order for that to happen, however, we must do more than simply "remember" or "never forget." We must take lessons out of that day and the bad memories. Understand how something like September 11th happened. Understand the meaning the event has in shaping us as people. Understand how remembering the people who perished fits in to the grand fabric. Letting how you make sense of the events evolve and develop over time. Use those memories to motivate you to do something to better your surroundings, with the hope that it does something to prevent a repeat of the events. Just plain "remembering" and "not forgetting" is a travesty.

And so is listening to bad country music.

On this tenth anniversary, take some time to not only remember those who perished or those who were profoundly changed but to understand and to learn something, anything the events. If you find yourself or someone else simply parroting "never forget," take some time to ask, "What have we learned today, Charlie Brown?"

The Hex

2011-06-15T23:07:00.003-04:00

Professional baseball is pretty rife with superstition. Wade Boggs reportedly ate chicken before every game. And don't get me started on Turk Wendell and his "rituals."

There are also the various curses that linger over teams. The Boston Red Sox had the famed "Curse of the Bambino" from 1918 to some hazy point which I've blocked out of my memory. The Chicago White Sox have long labored under the shadow left by the 1919 Black Sox. The Cleveland Indians are apparently still under "The Curse of Rocky Colavito," and the Chicago Cubs are trying (mostly) everything goat-related to unhex themselves from the "Curse of the Billy Goat."

The Redskins are laboring under the curse of Dan Snyder's ownership.

Having witnessed the sadness that is the Baltimore Orioles for the last few years, this has gotten me thinking. Are the Birds under some sort of mysterious slump? Has some witch doctor thrown a hex their way? Is Edgar Allen Poe not happy? Well, after some conversing with this guy, I have come up with an answer: the Curse of Lou Gehrig.

Can't you just sense the dark energy?

Here's the theory: everyone knows in 1995 that Cal Ripken, Jr. decides to break the Lou "the Iron Horse" Gehrig's pretty crazy consecutive games streak of 2,130 games played. (Think about that when you try to call out of work because of the "sniffles.") My theory is that you probably do not want to anger the spirit of any one nicknamed "the Iron Horse" and especially if that person had to deal with Babe Ruth on a day-to-day basis for much of the year. Cal Ripken decided to do that, and thus brought upon the Baltimore Orioles "The Curse of Lou Gehrig."

The evidence goes as such:
1995 was the season that the record was broken by Cal Ripken, Jr. That was the same season that the New York Yankees made it to the playoffs for the first time since their 1981 World Series loss to the Los Angeles Dodgers, and the first (and last) time that famed first baseman Don Mattingly, who played the same position as Lou Gehrig, would make the playoffs. Also, 1995 was the same season that a young shortstop named Derek Jeter made his debut. The same Derek Jeter who hit the "hand of God" home run in the 1996 American League Championship Series against...the Baltimore Orioles. The Yankees would go on to win the World Series and experience relative success afterward, while the Orioles would make the playoffs once more and haven't made them since. It is also worth noting that the year Cal Ripken, Jr. retired (2001) was the same year the Yankees lost the World Series to the Arizona Diamondbacks. Nonetheless, the Orioles have still toiled in much obscurity. Their most promising glimmer of hope was in 2005, when they spent 62 days in first place but went on a losing streak, resulting in the firing of their manager, Lee Mazzili - a former Yankees first base coach.

Now considering that Babe Ruth's curse lasted about 80 some odd years, the idea of one of his teammates, who has an equally storied spot in Yankees lore, putting a hex on a team isn't a very comforting thought. Also mind you that this is from the grave; the Babe's curse got its start when he was alive. So who knows what extra caveats that might add? And of course, the Orioles could just be naturally and perpetually terrible. But who wants to believe that?

Also having to deal with the Babe on a pretty regular basis makes you a pretty tough sucker.

So if you're an Orioles fan (or one of the players reading this for some strange reason), I'd start eating chicken or something to break the hex. Or just consider a different team.

Man Up Little Boy

2011-02-03T20:44:00.000-05:00

Being a Washington DC sports fan must be probably one of the most depressing things ever. And I know depressed sports fans, being that I still remember the glory days of the Knicks with Patrick Ewing and John Starks and that I have been to an Orioles game. But DC...hoo-boy, you guys have it BAD. Long saddled with the Washington Senators in the beginning of the 20th center and the quip "first in war, first in peace, and last in the American League," sports in DC is a fairly depressing business, save for the occasional bright spots.

DC comforts itself by doing Independence Day right.

Not only that, but you have all these miscreant transplants (me being one of them) milling around your town and espousing loyalties to other teams not of the area. Go to a Nationals game and you'll most likely see jerseys of the opposing team making up a large percentage of the spectators. Hell, you can walk around the city and see quite a few Dallas Cowboys hats and jerseys. This is akin to me parading around Boston in full New York Yankees gear, a crime which probably would earn me a drowning in a vat of Samuel Adams beer.

"Funny...it tastes like scotch and shame..."

So if you're going to be a GM or an owner of a major national sports team (sorry, lacrosse), you're going to expect a lot of crap from people who have come in from other places (who know how a sports team should function) that have adopted the local sports teams and long time fans in the area who are simply being fed up with being known as the breather team on the schedule.

Apparently the "Boy Wonder" Dan Snyder didn't get the memo. In response to the Washington City Paper's article "The Cranky Redskins Fan's Guide to Dan Snyder," Snyder decided the brightest idea (outside of hiring Jim Zorn, of course) was to sue the Washington City Paper's parent company over the content of the article.

Face of a genius.

Really?

You have to be honest, the team's gotten pretty cocked up, to put it gently, over the past few years. Outside of the perennial genius of the Jim Zorn era, the more recent season exemplifies the hilarity of whatever strategy he and his crack team of experts is implementing. And when your team loses after watching your much hyped new coach falter and essentially pissing away two hundred million dollars, you're going to have to expect a hot ton of criticism piled on you.

I'm glad the money from my $10 beer went to a good cause.

Being a sports fan from the New York metropolitan area, I've been attuned to and "informed" about sports from probably one of the nastiest media arenas for sports you can think of. Any loss inspires more analysis than I've seen this side of a Sunday morning political talk show. Heaven forbid you turn in a playoff-less season or *gasp* a losing one. Rarely does the media show you any mercy. You more or less have to earn it.

Snyder should be damn thankful he isn't in that market. If he sued one paper for giving him the business, he'd either go bankrupt paying lawyers suing pretty much every media outlet in New York City or wind up in the fetal position in his bathroom sucking him thumb and sobbing.

Toughen up or sell the team to someone who's got a plan or at least a tolerance for pointed criticism. And don't clog up the judicial system with frivolous lawsuits.

Jack McCoy is not happy with you clogging up the judicial system.

11th Hour, 11th Day, 11th Month

2010-11-11T08:30:00.000-05:00

Today, 11 Nov, is Veteran's Day in the United States. (Elsewhere in many other countries, it is Armistice Day or Remembrance Day.) I implore you to immediately drop what you're doing and go thank a veteran in your life. Hell, go out and find a random veteran to thank. (Veterans in the DC area, you've been put on alert for my presence.) Take him or her to Outback for a blooming onion.

The origin of the holiday not only in the United States but the world over is signing of the armistice to end the major hostilities of World War I. For many other countries, such as the members of the former British Empire, France, Germany, and Belgium (can't forget those plucky Belgians), the day definitely has a large focus on the First World War. For the United States, due to the somewhat limited engagement it had during the war, it doesn't ring too much with the national conscience. Nevertheless, it was a major conflict that Americans gave their lives to.

Which brings me to the main driving point: Where is the memorial for the WWI veterans and casualties? We've got one for WWII, Korea, and Vietnam. What about the doughboys who went over with General John "Blackjack" Pershing? What about the US Marines who got trapped in Belleau Wood? Don't they deserve some sort of memorial among the other veterans? Such was the concern raised by the last veteran of WWI in the United States.

Technically, there is a memorial to the veterans of WWI on the mall, but it's a bit off the beaten path.

Okay, really off the beaten path.

The DC War Memorial was erected in honor of its 26,000 citizens who served in WWI. On it are the names of each life the conflict took from DC. Its seclusion is unfortunate and yet poignant in the same way, a way of signifying the unfortunate status befallen upon many WWI veterans who never really got the legacy they deserved in the national consciousness. I had never heard of the monument and found it by accident as I was moseying my way around the National Mall between the various other more notable memorials.

There has been a push to rededicate the memorial to honor all veterans and casualties of WWI. Now while a part of me wishes they would have the same treatment the WWII memorial has been afforded, on the other hand, it would be nice to have more people at least know about the memorial dedicated to the people who served in WWI, if only to make sure no one forgets them.

Run Through the Jungle

2010-11-02T21:24:00.000-04:00

Washington DC, being the nation's capital, will every so often attract hordes of people for some sort of event or another. Sometimes I couldn't care less. However, this weekend was the weekend of the Rally to Restore Sanity/March Keep Fear Alive, created and devised by Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert, respectfully. I thought to myself, "Okay, that sounds neat. I can totally roll with that. Jon Stewart is a funny guy from New Jersey and Steven Colbert is a Dungeons and Dragons enthusiast, two things I can support. What's there not to like?" Oh lord, was I in for a surprise...

What I attended was something less than the experience my friends did to watch the Obama inauguration in the cold on a television. I didn't get to even see the damned thing on a television. Instead, I got to take pictures of clever signs.

The theme of the rally.

Now, granted, it wasn't that horrible of a time, as I was with friends as we milled around on the mall getting that exercise that cubicle jockeys are deprived. Nevertheless, I'm sure we would've had a bit more fun sitting around watching it on the television with a few drinks.

The day started off innocently enough. I woke up a bit rough from the night before, as a few friends had rolled into town and I decided to go out and hang out with them for a bit while they were in town. So I was a bit weary as my friends gave me a friendly morning text and phone call.

After I straighted myself out and made sure I put on non-stained clothing, I trudged out my door and went to the metro station with my friends. It was a bit packed, but I was fully expecting the crowd level at the station. It was an event, and I've seen somewhat similar crowds around when there's some sort of other event in DC. I can deal.

I also found Waldo. Hell yeah.

However, once we got on the metro, you could sense that things were going to be fairly tight, if you will. It was pretty packed once we rolled through a couple of metro stops, such that people on the platform figured they'd just wait for the next train instead of getting a deep tissue massage on my abdomen from a stranger's elbow.

First person view of having a deep-tissue massage on the Metro.

So we finally get off at the metro in downtown DC and make our way slowly through the crowds and such to the rally area.

But I did see some helpful signs along the way.

We finally get there and start seeing the crowds pile up a bit. Okay, perhaps more than a bit.

Picture definition of "crowds piling up a bit."

It got pretty crazy. The crew of people and I tried valiantly to find some sort of spot in the horde worthwhile enough to camp out in and get a halfway decent view of the event. We wandered our way up towards what we believed to be the front of the stage. In reality, however, we had no real idea that was where we were headed. I was perfectly happy to follow the crowd if it brought me to any combination of coffee, food, and napping cots.

I also would've have settled for a bowl of pho.

Despite our best efforts, we could not wade into a better vantage point. Every point we tried getting a view of the actions, we were thwarted by a combination of distance and the sheer thickness of the crowds. Nevertheless, we trekked on through the morass of humanity that flooded the mall.

"Morass of humanity."

We finally decided on a spot that was semi-close enough to the stage and a screen that it was almost tolerable. (Key word there is "almost," if for some reason the italicized text doesn't show.) However, we still were fairly far from the stage and thus could barely hear what was going on and could barely see the stage or the screen.

Now what really irked me while I was standing there was seeing the vast swatches of empty space in front of me prime for the taken. Prime for the taking, that is, if there weren't metal fences in front of me giving me the internal organ deep tissue massage of a lifetime. So while we were herded on the outside looking in, there was plenty of empty space ripe and ready for the taking...right in freaking front of us.

Empty space waiting to be utilized.

What the heck were they trying to do with that free space? Now I heard the explanation that it was for just in case something happened that the appropriate authorities could get there in time. Of course, I heard this explanation as I was trapped in between a crowd of at least eight or nine deep and a metal fence. I'm sure the authorities would've had a fun time getting to me. But of course, I was one of the commoners on the outside. Why would they care?

It got fairly contentious. One woman decided that the fence was not enough to hold her back and slipped through. The people working the "concession stand" in front of us caught her and immediately called over the police. Naturally, the crowd started booing and started voicing their displeasure. One of the guys next to me started getting into it with the concession stand workers and it got fairly heated. I do believe that the phrase "Stop snitching" was uttered. I had to explain to one of the people with me what it meant.

We eventually decided the value of our time standing there and watching what we believe were Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert on the stage (it also could have been marionette puppets for all we know) wasn't worth it, so we decided to go around and look at signs.

I guess he gave up too.

Probably could've found the latter a bit easier that day.

The best view of the stage we got...from behind.

We eventually left and made a stop at one of my compatriot's relative's place for luggage. After a brief respite to rest our tired legs and to wet our parched throats, we decided to hop on the Metro for what would be a fairly easy ride home to rest some more and prep for the Halloween festivities we would be attending that night.

Of course, it was anything but fairly easy. Apparently it was a record-setting day for the Metro and Comedy Central declined to fork over $29,000 for extra service (while the Marine Corps Marathon organizers gladly paid that amount, mind you). As such, we were stuck on the platform for an eternity, watching full trains of Metro cars roll by with little to no hope of squeezing ourselves and the luggage with us in there without creating a few broken ribs and earning the ire of a few people. We also saw a few trains roll in that were not taking passengers as it was somehow their terminal stop. The collective morale and willpower of the group was whittled down. After a few of the full trains rolled by, there was a collective chant from our group of "USA! USA! USA!" The Rally to Restore Sanity at this point became a rally to frustrate and irritate us.

One of the guys with us had the bright idea to go to a station down the line and board there. After watching a few more full trains roll by, we take him up on his idea. The plan works and we manage to get on a train four stops south of our original position. At this point, I've been broken down. I probably would've agreed to most anything if it got me home. It got so bad that somewhere along the way, I exclaimed with glee "OH MY GOD IT'S GUMBY!" when I saw someone dressed as Gumby get on the Metro. It was that sad.

I was ready to make him my lord savior at that point.

We manage to make it back home with enough time to grab some Chik-fil-a (god that was the best chicken sandwich I've ever had in my life), get some residual Halloween stuff, and get ready for the night's festivities. I was just glad the whole ordeal was over and was ready to just forget the entire ordeal, including the four hours spent on the Metro.

And an hour and a half later, we were dressed in our Halloween costumes...back on the Metro.

While I could gripe on and on about the mishandling of the entire thing by the crack team at Comedy Central and the basic meaninglessness of the entire thing, all in all, it was a good time spent with some fun people and good friends. I'm sure we all bonded as we herded from place to place while I made snide remarks and witty comments every few yards.

That or my friends are looking to push me on the Metro tracks on the way back from another major DC event.

They look like good sports, right? Right guys?

Constitution Lesson

2010-09-27T21:50:00.000-04:00

A little less than a couple weeks ago was Constitution Day, the anniversary of the signing of the Constitution. As I was picking up lunch (a two out of three patriotic red Thai curry on white rice, as apparently "blue" is not a dish), they were giving away free pocket versions of the US Constitution. "Hell yeah," I thought, "this should come in handy should I need to whip out some Constitutional knowledge." Well, today's the day.

Everyone knows the warm and cuddly figure known as Ann Coulter. You know, the tall, blonde super-Republican who highlights how not easy on the eyes Rush Limbaugh is in in any kind of lighting.

Cuddly if you're a praying mantis or a Nosferatu.

Recently, Ann Coulter got invited to Homocon (I am not kidding -- click on the link), a convention for homosexual conservatives. Coulter got touted as "the right wing Judy Garland." From what I've gathered on Judy Garland as a gay icon, that's pretty high praise. I'm still waiting on being named a "Bruce Lee keynote speaker" designation. Hell, I'd settle for the "Judge Ito Appreciation Award." These guys are still searching for a "Hunter S. Thompson Literary Honor" designation.

Inviting her soon backfired, much like having Marion Barry at a seminar on corruption free government. She soon decided that instead of saying "go gay GOP-ers!" or something like that she decided to let the crowd know how thankful she was for the invitation...by totally spitting on it and grinding it under her stilettos made out of the charred bones of cute bunnies and shined with the tears of children.

"One of history's liberal diversity lovers" -- Ann Coulter (unsubstantiated)

Besides the other ridiculous points she made (like how kindergarten-level kids would learn about fisting), perhaps the most ridiculous point was that the 14th Amendment only applied to black people. That's it. Only black people. Not gays, women, other ethnic minorities, other minorities period...just black people.

Well, now that I have my handy-dandy pocket US Constitution and while it's still in its non-coffee-stained edition, I can go look it up. One second...

[insert rifling through pocket filled with old receipts and gum wrappers]

...okay, here's the actual text for your own perusal (I'll provide a link if you don't believe me)

Section 1. All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

Section 2. Representatives shall be apportioned among the several States according to their respective numbers, counting the whole number of persons in each State, excluding Indians not taxed. But when the right to vote at any election for the choice of electors for President and Vice President of the United States, Representatives in Congress, the Executive and Judicial officers of a State, or the members of the Legislature thereof, is denied to any of the male inhabitants of such State, being twenty-one years of age, and citizens of the United States, or in any way abridged, except for participation in rebellion, or other crime, the basis of representation therein shall be reduced in the proportion which the number of such male citizens shall bear to the whole number of male citizens twenty-one years of age in such State.

Section 3. No person shall be a Senator or Representative in Congress, or elector of President and Vice President, or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States, or under any State, who, having previously taken an oath, as a member of Congress, or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any State legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer of any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof. But Congress may, by a vote of two-thirds of each House, remove such disability.

Section 4. The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, including debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or rebellion, shall not be questioned. But neither the United States nor any State shall assume or pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States, or any claim for the loss or emancipation of any slave; but all such debts, obligations and claims shall be held illegal and void.

Section 5. The Congress shall have power to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article.

So...um...while it refers to slaves, who were black, it doesn't exactly discriminate in terms of color, race, creed, ethnicity. Hell, it doesn't even technically discriminate in terms of citizenship. Note that it refers to "persons" and not "citizens." So you didn't even have to be a citizen to receive the protections of the clause, a handy phrase in the amendment when being a naturalized citizen of the United States was pretty much damn near impossible.

You can touch my underpants, but you're not getting citizenship.

For the record, the Amendment has helped not only blacks but also Chinese-Americans (Yick Wo v. Hopkins, United States v. Wong Kim Ark), Hispanic-Americans (Hernandez v. Texas), women (United States v. Virginia -- women's admissions to VMI), illegitimate children (Levy v. Louisiana), people of different races who want to get married (Loving v. Virginia), and family people in general (Nevada Department of Human Resources v. Hibbs). Family member rights! Isn't the Republican Party all about "family values? (List of some of the cases where the 14th Amendment has been citied...for better and worse.)

Now either the Supreme Court might've applied it incorrectly all these years (Plessy v. Ferguson, pretty much any WWII ruling involving Japanese people), but I'm pretty sure there's not hidden "blacks-only" clause within the 14th Amendment. And really, that would pretty much defeats the purpose of the 14th Amendment. It's like claiming the Alien and Sedition Acts enacted by John Adams were backed by the 1st Amendment or the dance your suspect did with "Mr. Billy Club" was totally 8th Amendment approved.

(Note: I know that women got left out, but they got the vote...eventually. I'll give you that one. But you got into VMI because of the 14th Amendment, right?)

Plus, I can imagine that it's pretty ludicrous that one would get up in front of a crowd of people and tell them that not only do they have no rights under one of the more important amendments of the US Constitution whey they not only specifically honored you with an invitation but also put you on their damned promo graphic. Really, Ann Coulter? Really? Do you have any sense of modesty? Or are you some sort of harpy who subsists on any sort of publicity?

Sketch of Ann Coulter.

Holy Crap It's Stuff

2010-08-18T18:16:00.000-04:00

Many moons ago (okay, about five or six months ago), I was a graduate student pursuing a degree focusing on Public History. Eschewing the technical intricacies of what exactly that means, one of the fields brought up time and time again was the issue of material culture and how to look at it as a historian. In simpler terms, how to look at stuff and make history out of it.

Recently, one of my co-conspirators put up a blog post about how the discovery of some really old scotch transported by Shackelton's expedition in Antarctica really doesn't matter a whole lot. To quote the poignant part of the article:

The Liquor itself has no historical importance, besides being liquor that isn't made anymore that was the drink of choice for a great explorer. He brought it with him to drink it. What's the point of leaving it? Would there be any difference If we just filled the bottles back up with wild turkey, and split the original liquor between the modern relatives of shackletons team, The modern explorers who uncovered it, and the scotch maker who will try to replicate it? It would be a serene moment for all of them, and the shackletons Scotch Whisky tale would have a great ending.

Mind you, the scotch that's been sitting there hasn't gotten any better (or worse, for that matter) sitting in the Antarctic ice, so it's not like you can taste the nutty texture or whatever scotch pricks like to wax poetic about when they're swirling the single malt in their flute glasses. It tastes the same as it did back then. What's so special about it is the association we have with the scotch. Hell, it doesn't matter if it's scotch. He could've carried with him a case of Natty Boh and if we found it now, we'd be oohing and aahing over it the same.

Delicious Natty Boh.

What matters really is the meaning we've associated with the item in question. Sure it's a rare recipe, but in the end, all it is really is just really old scotch. Nothing more, nothing less. What adds value are the associations assigned to the scotch. Attached to it is the name "Shackelton." If we added the cachet of somewhat less famous people, it would just be really old scotch that wouldn't get the deference of a holy relic.

And this is why sometimes trying to incorporate material history is so difficult. (See? I eventually brought this back to academic matters.) Things are inherently meaningless. For example, someone might have an heirloom ring that might not be worth more than maybe $100 at best in the open market. Yet to someone who knows the "inherent" "meaning" of the ring, it's worth can't be expressed with all the zeros in the world. Or perhaps someone has a ratty old shirt they consider lucky. Someone else might think the shirt would be better off used as a rag. Things only have the significance given to them by regular human beings. Any time a curator sticks something in a display at a museum, he or she is stating, "This is important and significant." Before then, it was just some old junk sitting around in storage.

So take a look around you. That crusty old plate that you've been eating your Chef Boyardee meals off of or the half finished bottle of Steel Reserve might one day be historically significant. At least to someone.

Anthony Bourdain is My Hero

2010-08-03T23:24:00.000-04:00

Being from New Jersey is much much different from being from somewhere else. Outside of the well-entrenched stereotypes exhibited by the "reality" shows Jersey Shore (which I have written about before) and Real Housewives of New Jersey and the dramatic series The Sopranos, not much is known. And while they have their accuracies, they don't tell the full story of the state.

He comes really super close.

Enter Anthony Bourdain, host of the show No Reservations on the Travel Channel. Bourdain is himself a Jersey boy (from Leonia, home of a massive Japanese supermarket featured on the show) who achieved something that most everyone from Jersey has aspired to or at least entertained: making it big in New York. (The exception are those people from the Philly area, but that's another story.)

What those folks near Philly can aspire to.

There exists an unmistakable edge that Bourdain has, however, that really distinguishes him from virtually every other chef or travel guide on a television. He's not happy go lucky. Innocence for him probably ceased once could start shaving. He's rough and doesn't give a damn, and yet still receptive and open to various new and wacky things. That edge is what makes him popular. He's a breath of fresh air, tinged with a few drags of a cigarette.

Plus, he's just damned good-looking too.

Part of what I think that edge is the whole "being from Jersey" mentality. There's always a chip on your shoulder. You're somehow always viewed as second class, especially from those hoity-toity folks who reside on that island known as Manhattan. Hell, even people from other states who probably matter as much as the vintage of cornmeal processed in their state have that attitude. (Know your place, Nebraska.) And even when you make it big, such as being a successful chef, author, travel show host, and speaker like Bourdain, you've still got that edge that's a result of having always to compete.

Look! He even likes the Ramones!

I can empathize. I grew up in New Jersey, looking towards the city as the Promised Land. I went to UMBC in the suburbs of Baltimore, MD, which sat in the shadows of UMCP, located near the power environs of Washington DC. For most of my life, it hasn't been about where I am but instead looking to the place that casts shadows upon me. You're continually looking up.

Not to say that's it's a horrible thing, mind you. It seems to worked out well for Bourdain. He's parlayed the crick in his neck and grimace in his eyes from looking up at the skyscrapers and big dreams in New York to something that's made him a multi-faceted superstar. I will wager that someone like Anthony Bourdain would most certainly not have come from anywhere else but New Jersey. While other patriarchal relationships exist all around the United States and the world, there's a uniqueness of the way it's conducted in New Jersey that makes it distinctive. And it's that uniqueness that's earned Bourdain the admiration of thousands of fans and other people like me, who really wish they could parlay that sort of experience into a multimedia celebrity instead of really terse quotes that don't earn you invites to parties.

Advocacy on a Full Belly

2010-07-12T22:35:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I really wonder about some of the activists out there. Okay, maybe I wonder all the time. Things that could contribute greatly to progress (in my opinion), such as nuclear power, are being halted because of activists.

One of the things that's irked me for a while is the whole uproar about so-called "Franken-food" or (more properly known as) genetically modified food. From what the advocates say, it's something out of a real bad miniseries on the SciFi (sorry, SyFy) network. You'll eat it and freaky stuff will start happening to you or something. Although if the comic books are right about that, I wouldn't mind.

If Franken-food means this, gimme my lab-engineered corn now.

BBC columnist Jonathan Jones wrote an interesting piece about the great benefits that "Franken-food" could provide the world -- if only those damned activists would get off it's tail. To me, it seems highly pretentious of us in the first world lording over the rest of the globe telling them that their people have to starve because it makes us feel icky on the inside to genetically modify crops which could save millions of lives each year and greatly improve the quality of life tenfold.

Sure, there's some argument to be said where once we start dicking around with plant genomes and stuff, eventually we're going to get to the point where we're engineering the optimal human for god knows what sort of immoral purpose we could concoct. While that is a remote possibility, the fact remains that we're A) dealing with plants and B) speeding up processes that would naturally happen. We're not making hybrid pig-humans here. We're finding plants that'll survive in hardier conditions and selecting them for reproduction, something that botanists and agriculturalists the world over have been doing through sheer trial and error for a while.

Man-Bear-Pig: Not cool.

So until scientists have developed some sort of genetic abomination that's a cross between the Yeti and a sunflower, don't sit there with your full belly and tell me that Franken-food is wrong.

Straight No Chaser

2010-04-12T00:32:00.000-04:00

Let's face it: we all do a lot of pretending and self-deluding to make the world just that more palpable to ourselves. We all live our little lies here and there because, quite frankly, to try to take on the full reality of the world probably would debilitate any hardy-minded person. Lies and delusions help us navigate those rough patches that we'd either not see or could see but would have difficulty navigating.

It's when these lies build up that we get into deep trouble. Lies that somehow manifest themselves into a singular contained entity that we fully believe in. Lies that manifest themselves into something interactive that we have exchanges with and believe exist.

I've always felt an empathy with the main character of The Great Gatsby. Jay Gatsby was more or less chasing the same thing that I was: a fantasy that may or may not have existed at some point in the past which definitely did not existed in the present. Sure you can criticize him for the choices he made. But you can't really blame him either. As I've found out lately, it's only human nature to want to return to the things that make you happy in life and make getting up and breathing so much easier, even though the things that you have to do might not be for the best.

Like Jay Gatsby, I let myself become motivated and driven by something that had never truly existed. Whole sections of my life were dedicated in remaking myself for a mere illusion that I created in my head. I had beliefs that I would be a better version of me. Somehow find a motivator to improve who I was and create a different persona for myself. It was a concept that I put too much time, thought, and effort into. Granted, not to the level of getting involved with bootlegging and got knows what with Gatsby, but you get the full idea. And all that work went for naught.

Well, perhaps not fully for naught. I've learned that it's not worth it to change who you really are for anyone or anything. No one really has the power to have agency over how your life is lead. Letting anyone into your life in that fashion is an egregious mistake that should immediately be corrected. By giving up control of your actions and especially thoughts in that fashion only leads to a disastrous end where at best you find yourself living a life that's not yours or at worst adrift in a sea of confusion grasping for anything that'll float and gasping for any hope left in the air. Groveling and grasping like that isn't worth a damn. You don't spring to mirages in the desert. All you're going to find is hot, dry sand instead of water.

Dear Future Me

2010-03-27T23:05:00.000-04:00

There is a running joke between a friend of mine and I about the presence of a "Future Me" in Hartford, CT. Apparently future me has moved up the chain of command in life and somehow found a job (at some culinary institute, if I'm not mistaken) in the lovely stretches of Connecticut. How that happened after a stint in graduate school in public history and getting a job in DC, I'll be finding out over the next few years, but hopefully it's exciting and helpful for me.

Apparently in the future I have the superpower to make the world blurry. Photograph courtesy of Ms. Valerie Werse.

Having discovered that I will indeed make it into the fairly distant future (10 or maybe 20) is a comforting concept. Furthermore, the description of future me doesn't seem to bad. He's employed, probably has a place to live, and looks fairly healthy.

I wonder if he'll write me a letter from a blog (maybe this one) as an actual adult to the punk-ass version of me that sits right now in front of the computer typing this away when there are actual other tasks ahead of me. I wrote one to the 13 year old version of me, so I expect that within ten or so years when I magically turn my life around and hopefully have an internet connection (as opposed to being a hobo destined to ride the rails for life) I will sit down and be able to tell the past version of me some wise advice.

As I don't have a time machine and don't have those ten years of wear and tear on myself, I'll have to wait. But that doesn't exclude me from writing to the future me.

"Dear Future Me,

What the hell are you doing here during these times? If you're really from the future, shouldn't you be trying to enjoy that? Or are you sent back from the future like the Terminator? If that's the case, that would explain why you're moonlighting as an office drone at some culinary institute as a cover. No one would expect you to be some agent from the future sent back in time to...do whatever you're doing.

Is life better for you? It must be, especially if you're a Terminator from the future. Do you remember ten or how many years ago since the day I wrote this? I hope you recall that in your mission to hopefully alter the past for the benefit of the future. (At least that's what I would like to believe you're doing.)

If you have forgotten, refer to the above mentioned letter I wrote to the 13 year old version of myself for some guidance, and some of the other posts littering the blog. They should give you guidance as to how I was leading my life at this point in my life and jog your memory. Unless that got replaced with a new set of memories, in which case, this point is mute. But assuming that you do have those memories tucked away somewhere, remember them in your mission to better the world and provide assistance to those who are like me out there. I know you need to maintain your cover as some clerk at a culinary institute, but I'm sure you can work it into your busy schedule.

You might be wondering why I'm not asking you to help me out with your powers. Well, that's up to you. If I ask you to completely alter your past, things might get complex. Although I'm sure by that point in the future there'll be policies on that and how that sort of thing works. I'm sure you've worked it out. Nonetheless, there are probably others out there more deserving. I'll figure my way out on this. Plus, I don't want to mess up my chances of being a Terminator from the future.

Anyway, enjoy your time in Hartford, CT (of all places, you could've picked a more fun place) and let me know what I can do to help.

--
Current Me."

Punk Rock Improves Lives

2010-03-04T15:48:00.000-05:00

It was Christmas during my last year of high school, and since my parents had stopped playing "Guess What Our Son Wants for Christmas" by that point, they usually would take me to the bookstore to pick out something I wanted. And so off we went to the local Barnes and Noble bookstore to get a gift for me.

As I'm perusing the store, I wander over to the section in Barnes and Noble where they have the audio-visual merchandise. I'm perusing through the selections and I turn up London Calling by the Clash. But not just any ol' copy of London Calling. No, this was the 25th Anniversary Legacy Edition, complete with not only the original recording but also the "Vanilla Tapes" (demos recorded in the studio during rehearsals which were apocryphally lost) and a DVD which had a documentary of the making of the album, some promo videos, and also raw footage that had been taken in the studio of the Clash. All of this for about $20. I totally ask for this as a Christmas present, and my family and I go to the front counter to pay for it.

For the next few weeks into possibly a couple of months, I listened the hell out of that album. I'd listen to the original studio cut, I'd listen to the raw demos on the "Vanilla Tapes" CD. I probably watched the documentary a few times. But listening to it was such an breath of fresh air for me. Here's something I can latch onto and understand on an intellectual level and comprehend, something that I didn't think much of the music that the good 95% (and that's a conservative estimate) of the cretins that I shared air space with probably couldn't understand.

Now I didn't go completely off the rails and start pushing safety pins through my cheek or dying my hair green and spiking it because it was stupid to do so, I didn't (and still don't) like the idea of shoving sharp metal objects into my cheek, and quite frankly, it wasn't the point of the music. The point was just to do what you wanted to do, others be damned. I learned the lesson of being your own individual, something important for someone who always had difficulty forging through interactions with other people.

It's also given me some sort of determination to forge through life's problems. The sheer raw energy of the music provides a relieving catharsis for whatever is balled up inside of you. The irony of having something that sounds more or less like, as Craig Ferguson put it when introducing the Damned on his show, a fight being soothing is quite counter-intuitive. And yet, listening to The Cramps on full blast with your headphones on sometimes is the best way to sort things out.

And we're talking real punk music here, by the way. We're not talking about the sissy stuff cranked out by Taking Back Sunday or whatever passes off as "edgy" these days. I mean, for Chrit's sake, saying that stuff is punk music is like saying Johnny Weir is a professional wrestler. Listening to that stuff probably won't help much other than make you a terrible human being.

Totally not wrestling, but totally punk rock.

So go out and buy your child a punk rock CD of some sort. They'll be a better person for it and will brag to their friends about having the coolest parents ever.

Chopin et Moi (Chopin i Ja)

2010-02-21T12:41:00.000-05:00

Most of the time, in the grand scheme of things, musicians are not wholly too important. Music is nice, but sometimes other things take precedence. There are exceptions, however. One of them is Fryderyk Chopin (also known by the French version of his name, Frederic Chopin).

While there have been several important musicians, no one musician has possessed such importance to a large number of people in his own day and now. He represented a people who existed in all practical terms yet were invisible when looking at a map. The music he wrote spoke to the sense of being Polish when there was no Poland to speak of.

Poland, represent.

It is this importance that Poland wishes to emphasize this year, what Poland has declared to be "The Year of Chopin." This coming week will mark the celebration of what would be his 200th birthday (debates about his birthday being either 22 Feb 1810 or 1 Mar 1810 provide an convenient excuse for a week long celebration). Places the world over will be celebrating his birthday, ranging from France (where he spent much of his adult life in exile) and even space (where Endeavor commander George Zimka will represent his Polish heritage by blasting Chopin's music into space).

Having listened to and played his music, I can fully understand why his appeal has spread to people outside of Poland. There is a distinct voice in his music, something that is hard to discern from other artists prior to his time. There isn't the rigidity that one finds in a lot of the German and German-influenced music of the time. Instead, a flow that allows for the voice of Chopin to breathe through the notes allows it to seem much more personal.

This personal touch within his music, however, makes it very difficult to try to catch the essence of Chopin's music. Part of the trouble is that the use of rubato, a sort of "relaxing" of the tempo, is mishandled by a lot of students. I personally went buck wild with it when I was younger as a form of rebellion against the oppressive forces of the metronome, a mistake many young pianists make. My piano teacher and other more experienced musicians advocate for a little more restraint and finesse instead of simply doing what you want because you can.

It is these complexities and more that make Chopin's music so challenging and so intriguing at the same time. His music is sometimes clouded by fallacies that obscure whatever true meaning he was trying to convey with each note and phrase. Hopefully by understanding the man and his brief life we can be able to carry on his musical legacy with a degree of accuracy.

Chopin's music gave a voice to a nation for 200 years, a nation which lived under the thumb of others for much of those 200 years. Few classical musicians have made such a massive impact with their music during their day and after.

Also he left a legacy of really nice vodka.

It's a Freaking Secret

2010-02-17T08:29:00.000-05:00

There are some things out there in this free society that is kept hidden and secret. Trade secrets are some of those things. It's like your friend's grandmother's secret recipe for homemade spaghetti sauce (damn it, I want that recipe) except that it makes money and is probably guarded with more than a index card filing box and an elderly woman with a wooden spoon and the ability to beat you senseless with it.

Protector of trade secrets. Woman is lethal with a wooden spoon.

Now in addition to things like the secret formula to making Coca-cola to medicines to whatever addictive substance is in those delicious rice cakes at the local Korean market, you can add...race. Yes, race.

Five Silicon Valley companies -- Google, Apple, Yahoo, Oracle, and Applied Materials (they're a chip manufacturer) -- won their battle to not disclose the racial makeup of their employees as a "trade secret." (Hewlett Packard tried and lost.) Um...what?

The colors are supposed to be secret.

Yes, apparently the racial composition of the employee body somehow augments their ability to do tech stuff. Really? Have they discovered some sort of Colonel Sanders like recipe of the exact blend of African-Americans, Asian-Americans, Whites, Hispanics, and Indian Americans (for spice) that is the optimal ratio for developing things like the iPad and database application development tools? Wouldn't bet on it. I highly doubt that their trade secret is employing all white people for management or having Asian-American and Indian programmers--wait...

The very obvious assumption one can make here is that there is something going on here that probably won't look good. My suspicion is that there are few if any minorities in positions of power, something which probably wouldn't shock me. Irritate me, perhaps. But shock me, no.

Usually, from what I can surmise about many large tech firms, is that while there are many brilliant programmers and tech grunts of varying ranks and abilities who are of Asian heritage/descent. But their actual managers in charge of these non-commissioned folks are usually white. This has been a common problem for Asian-Americans, as they're viewed as "shunning power" or some horse-manure laden argument like that. And the presence of the traditionally marginalized racial groups, such as African-Americans and Hispanic-Americans, can be described as minimal on a good day.

Unless they've all developed their own "secret" race of people...

They left their amazing coding and personnel management skills out of the theatrical version. It'll be on the DVD.

Awkward Mirror

2010-02-13T22:13:00.002-05:00

Due to the large quantity of free time I've had over the last week, I've had an abnormally large amount of time available to sit around and not do much (Except for my readings, for all you professors reading this. Don't you have papers to grade and scholarship to further?). As such, I've had time to do a bit of reading for fun and also watch movies. Last night, I watched the film Adam, one that I've been hankering to see for quite some time.

Adam is the story of Adam Raki (played by Hugh Dancy), a 29 year old man living with Asperger's syndrome. He is employed as an electrical engineer at a toy company and is an amateur astronomer. More or less, he's what I'd probably be with actual useful talents and contributions to the greater world of science. Like many people with Asperger's syndrome, he leads a fairly methodical and organized life. He eats the same thing every day, and his closet would be something out of a cartoon if it wasn't right there in front of you.

This being a romantic comedy, another party gets involved in this man's life. In this case, it's Rose Buchwald, an elementary school teacher and more or less the complete opposite of Adam. As a part of her job, it's her duty to be an empathic person, while Adam is wrapped up in his own mind and thoughts most of the time.

I'll spare reading off the details as I'm not a professional movie reviewer, so I'll just direct you to the NY Times review of the film.

What I can offer of the film is what I personally felt for myself, not as some sort of critic with any sort of person, but as the lay person who empathizes with the main character.

Some out there (namely this fellow) have pegged me as having the same syndrome as Adam in the movie. There exist dissenters out there as well, some of whom have worked with people who actually have been diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome. Whatever the case may be, I found myself empathizing with the character on a very strong level. While I don't fully possess the exact same characteristics as he does (again, he actually has useful electrical engineering skills), I do understand the frustration he must feels when he can't empathize with people at all and get anything right when he is stumbling through his romance of Rose. When Adam is let go of his job (whoops, spoiler, but unimportant), you see things through his point of view, and he's simply seeing through a muted tunnel. That visualization is perhaps one of the best ways to explain it.

Now whether or not I actually have Asperger's is up for debate. I might just be very socially awkward and a "normal," "functioning" "member" of society. Nonetheless, it's one thing to have to try to wade through an occasional awkward moment in your life; it's quite another when it's nearly paralyzing and all you get out of it are what could be construed as panic attacks. I couldn't help but root for Adam as he is assisted in his endeavor to form a human bond with Rose, probably one of the most difficult things for someone in his position to do.

I also couldn't help but appreciate the effort given by Rose to help Adam. Trying to deal with someone like that who is simply clueless and firmly entrenched in their methodology of life must be incredibly frustrating. For Christ's sakes, I find myself a pain in the ass to deal with sometimes and I know what I'm like already. Imagine someone who hasn't had to deal with someone who's got the same quirks as me. Welcome to a world of hurt there. And kudos to anyone out there willing to persevere through that. The world could use more people like that.

Don't Ask and Don't Care

2010-02-03T10:10:00.005-05:00

The issue of homosexuals in the military is a controversial issue. 1992 saw the institution of the "don't ask, don't tell" policy under the Clinton administration as a compromise regarding his desire to let homosexuals in the military. Like many compromises, it left no one happy.

In President Obama's State of the Union address, he stated that he will "work with Congress and our military to finally repeal the law that denies gay Americans the right to serve the country they love because of who they are." On Tuesday, ADM Mike Mullen, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, testified in front of the Senate Armed Services committee regarding the matter and how he had issues with a policy that compelled servicemen and servicewomen to "lie about who they are to defend their fellow citizens." SecDef Robert Gates has also stated his support for the repeal of the policy.

It's about damn freaking time.

In a time when the United States is being stretched fairly thin the world over, it seems folly to reject openly gay candidates when other compromises (such as allowing gang members to join the ranks) are being made. Furthermore, there is no evidence that being homosexual hampers one's ability to defend their nation.

Just ask this guy.

Furthermore, two nations with armed forces which don't seem to be pushovers - Britain and Israel - don't seem to have any problems with imploding on themselves because they have openly gay members in their military. (Hell, Britain lets 'em march in gay pride parades in uniform.) Barring homosexuals from joining the military simply due to what is more or less some sort of institutionalized prejudice is silly. If that were the case, there'd be no black members or female members in the military either, and so far, they don't seem to have destroyed the military.

Riddle Me This

2010-01-30T02:04:00.009-05:00

It really does not take too much to get the People's Republic of China riled up. Things like Tienanmen Square, killing a local corrupt official turned tyrant, Tibet, internet freedom, freedom in general, the ethnic minorities (especially in the western areas), Avatar, Google, and internet porn are all things that get the PRC all upset.

Major threat to China. Wonder what they thought of the Smurfs.

But what if you really want to tick them off? Like Latrell Sprewell choking PJ Carlesimo ticked off? Mention Taiwan and watch the fireworks.

Which is what the US did recently when it announced a new arms sale to the Republic of China on the island of Taiwan. Such talk usually doesn't sit well with the folks in Beijing.

Now the thing that I'm curious about is, honestly, why do the Chinese really care? If China really was so freaking irritated by the presence of Taiwan these days, they'd be able to quash the damned place into the ground fairly easily. I mean, just go look at any figures of the population differences between the two nations. Go ahead, I'll wait. [elevator music] See? China could more or less grind the damned island into a bloody pulp.

Taiwan is the small island to the east. China is the big nation.

Plus, according to the AP article, China has a 1000 ballistic missiles trained on the island. 1000 freaking ballistic missiles. I'm not sure how capable Taiwan is of somehow deflecting that many missiles trained on it. China could theoretically cripple the island with a missile strike unseen by mankind and then somehow float their enormous army across the strait and take care of what was left with little logistical issue.

Of course, there are naysayers out there that would say something like "But what about China's public image? Surely they care about that!" But if you look at much of China's behavior and record regarding things like human rights, China hasn't shown any signs of truly giving a rat's ass about that. Furthermore, China has more or less bought itself recognition in much of the developing world, and in the actual developed world, China has enough economic weight that nothing would be done.

Also, at least in the near foreseeable future, the United States would simply be hard-pressed to deal with such a move. The US military has traditionally been geared to being a two-front force. In addition, except for the time last week when I was playing Civilization, I'm not wholly sure if there have been nations that have been able to juggle three different war fronts successfully. In addition, China is not the insurgency or guerrilla force that is prevalent in Iraq and Afghanistan.

In the end, the arms deal to Taiwan shouldn't really make too much of a difference to China. Nor should the US be really that perturbed by China's protestations. If the Chinese really wanted to take Taiwan over, it probably could've done it several times over already.

The People's Historian

2010-01-27T22:37:00.005-05:00

Personally, I've never thought much of social history. A lot of the time, in my opinion, it was more concerned about finding diamonds in dunghills than anything else. There are many other important questions that should be answered, such as "What does 'Old No. 7' really mean on the Jack Daniels label?" or "Why can't anyone make a halfway decent Tom Collins?"

Nevertheless, the fact that it has provided alternate viewpoints on the events of the past and helped flesh out our understanding is a valuable contribution made by social historians.

Howard Zinn was such a historian. In his watershed work, A People's History of the United States, the history of the United States is not explained through the "traditional" viewpoint of the wealthy and/or powerful but the everyday people. Reading the book in high school definitely shook up the way I perceived the history of the United States and made me realize that history is much more nuanced than often is imagined.

Thanks for the contribution. May we all hope to have as much influence as you.

Holiday

2010-01-18T23:49:00.004-05:00

As everyone now knows, including me, the earthquake in Haiti has had the dubious honor of actually making one of the roughest places on Earth even worse. Thankfully some people haven't let this terrible human tragedy ruin any of their lives, as they still find it within their grief stricken hearts to spend part of their vacation in Haiti.

Now while I don't have much of a basis to start saying that we should all donate, I still think that rolling up to the shores of a private beach "leased" from the government by the cruise company and having a barbecue and enjoying a colorful drink with an umbrella while outside the guarded gates a nation of millions experiences unfathomable suffering can easily be classified as a "dick move." While I understand that these people paid for their lovely vacations, I still have to question the fact that they set upon Haiti. I'm sure that like most Caribbean nations, it has wonderful scenery. But do these people have any sort of clue about what the hell is going on beyond their little beach paradise when they're sipping on that mai-tai?

I haven't been on a cruise myself and I probably will not go on one unless I'm fully comfortable with all the ports of call that they make. From what I've heard from various people who have gone on cruises and have been fairly aware and honest of the situation, a lot of the time the surrounding areas outside the specific resort are not exactly pleasing to the typical tourist's eye. That doesn't exactly sound like the most comfortable situation for me to be having at the time. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be enjoying my pina colada on the shores of Haiti knowing that tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people died and millions more are suffering probably mere miles away.

It must be said that the cruise is doing what it can to provide aid to those in need in Haiti, and for that they should be commended. Nonetheless, it still is troubling to me that something better and less callous on the part of the cruise company was not arranged for the vacation goers. I'm sure they weren't that set on seeing the lovely vistas of Haiti and probably couldn't have told much of any difference.

And people wonder why I don't go on vacations much.

Worst to Whatever's Next

2010-01-17T03:38:00.004-05:00

There is a Mexican idiom (at least I think it's Mexican) "salir Guatemala y ir a Guate-peor" which roughly translates to "from bad to worse." (Apologies to all two of the Guatemalan readers of this blog.) Recently, we saw Haiti, one of the most destitute nations in the Western Hemisphere and the world manage to do just that but on a much more horrific scale.

The earthquake has really troubled me for reasons beyond the immense human suffering that's occurred there. I am troubled by the fact that it is only now that everyone is running around saying "HOLY SHIT WE MUST HELP HAITI!" If anyone has actually checked up on the damned place every so often, it becomes evidently clear that they needed this much attention long before this. And what did most of us do? We sat around and did nothing but look at the island and possibly wrinkle an eyebrow or two out of "concern."

Haiti has been wracked with terrible debt and violence for much of its history. The US occupied it from 1915 to 1934 due to economic unrest. In the post WWII era, coups and debt plagued the nation.

Then everyone's favorite Haitian dictator came to power: Dr. Francois "Papa Doc" Duvalier. Like most dictators, he was corrupt and also managed to irritate enough of the elites through persecution that they left, worsening the situation in the nation. And just to make it more interesting, he also effectively used Voodoo as a tactic of control. How many dictators you know that did that?

Things didn't improve under his son, Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier (creative nickname, no? and no, he wasn't a doctor) and eventually Jean-Bertrand Aristide came to power. Unfortunately, despite looking promising, he also wound up to be corrupt. He was ousted in 2004 in a rebellion that left much of the island wracked by chaos and also the chronic problem of human rights issues. The nation hasn't improved much in the six years since.

To sum it up, to call the nation a "hellhole" or anything equivalent would be sugarcoating the issue. It's been like this for years. And yet, it is only now that everyone is up in arms about the entire thing.

If you're not going to do anything for the Haiti earthquake, fine. I can't blame you for maintaining the status quo that existed through other horrific hardships the island endured. But damned if you're going to yell at me and carry yourself like some saint if you're donating or providing charity. The earthquake could do little for the island what chaos, coups, and a crippled economy did in the last century. To be brutally frank, the standard of living for many of the people hasn't changed, mostly because you could not go any lower on the poverty scale.

Now, you might be yelling at the computer screen about how I can say this, presuming that I somehow am innocent of the charges I bring. I am not innocent at all. The place has an economy which could barely be called an economy. The Wikipedia article can provide you with the basic statistics of just how bad it is and has tons of links to help you visualize the suck. And I know this. I have known this. I remember the 2004 chaos during the Aristide overthrow and the widespread looting and violence. And I, like 95% or so of everyone crowing about helping Haiti out now, didn't do a damned thing to help them then. Shame on me, and shame on all of us who sat around before this terrible earthquake for not doing a damned thing.

Substance-Free Jersey Shore Viewing

2010-01-02T00:25:00.005-05:00

Having gone home and not having the cable package which includes MTV (but thankfully includes TNT and way too many hours of Law and Order) means not being able to watch the Jersey Shore episode that was shown on New Year's Eve. Then again, I hadn't been able to watch the show due to my lovely roommate repossessing the television to his room allegedly due to a real nasty but unconfirmed case of the flu.

Being home, I usually am not afforded the luxury of swilling cup upon cup of coffee or enjoying a glass of scotch before starting the review, which means that tonight (provided I actually finish the episode) will be the first viewing of the show I've done 100% without outside influence. Let's see where this goes.

So the episode starts with the post-sucker punch aftermath which more or less boils down to a seaside bar brawl. It's different I guess from the typical bar brawl for some reason. Maybe because at the shore there are less people named "Chains" or "Spider" there and more dudes named "Chaz" wearing board shorts. That also implies the decreased chance that someone's going to get a piece of their skull knocked out with a bike lock.

In this moment of crisis, however, "The Situation" manages to keep the primary mission in focus: hooking up with random girls. During the heated post-punch dust cloud, he manages to still keep his game going...and earn a reputation as a creep. Now what tipped everyone else off to that? The fact that he's kind of an old dude (28 I know is not that old but tanning beds do age you) really doesn't earn you point here...especially when you're trying to pick up women after one of your "crew" got socked. I guess you could admire the dedication, but there is a time and a place. And it's called a phone number.

I skipped over the entire part where Sammi meets Ronnie's parents, mostly because it doesn't look promising in the importance department.

This is also the part where I decided that going to sleep was of an entirely more important and fruitful proposition.

[Insert time gap of...um, I forgot how many days]

So after some time vegetating and not really having anything resembling an intellectual thought pass through my mind, I more or less have figured that I'm not going to be finishing the episode. Too much work. Plus, as of 8 Jan 2010, the episode got taken off line and won't be back up until 31 Jan 2010. So, you'll have to live with that.

Sharing is Caring, Part 2

2009-12-29T18:35:00.003-05:00

One of those glorious lessons you learn in your younger days is that sharing is caring. Apparently the US intelligence community is still working on this lesson.

In a previous post, I decried the lack of information sharing in the intelligence community, where intelligence is a cross between a valuable currency and a hot potato that needs to be passed around. Now with the advent of underpants bomber, we discover that someone either A) hasn't been sharing enough or B) hasn't been using what's actually been made available.

The security business relies on information. No information and security becomes some sort of haphazard game of tag in a dark room. You might actually tag someone, but you're also probably just going to randomly run into them in the process and wide up with a bloody nose as the person who's it rolls up and tags you.

Thankfully the guy was busted before he could get the contraption up and running. Nevertheless, the fact that it went that far should be yet another impetus to get everyone in government on the same page.

Epic Win

2009-12-21T00:00:00.009-05:00

I'm probably not going out on too big of a limb here when I state that American Idol is probably one of the worst things to happen to television other than perhaps the end of The Wire or the existence of CSI: Miami. But what makes American Idol especially heinous (besides releasing Paula Abdul on the world instead of keeping her occupied where her damage was limited) is their effect on music.

American Idol more or less encourages the banal blandness that kills music. Most every time a music genre has taken a dive is due to becoming generic. Edginess is what drives music. If it loses the edge or just gets ruthlessly copied by money-making schemes (like American Idol) then there is a severe problem.

Now this attitude might stem from listening to way too much punk rock, or more specifically, that one time last week where I did nothing but drink coffee and listen to the Dead Kennedys while writing papers. Nonetheless, I can call them like I see them. There's a wide difference between yawn-inspiring bores like Carrie Underwood (who came out of the American Idol cookie-cutter machine) and artists like Lady Gaga who apparently take inspiration from Dr. Seuss, Marvin the Martian, and whatever damage is incurred after a semester at NYU.

Like serious damage incurred at NYU

And so this week I was proud of the Brits for rebelling against the system that continuously feeds them drivel and blandness that would make gruel taste like curry. Through a fairly effective campaign organized through Facebook by Joe and Tracy Morter, the British people managed to get Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name" to the top of the charts to beat Joe McElderry's "The Climb." While I'm not the biggest fan of Rage Against the Machine in the world, I still respect them more than some cheesed up, processed product that is propped up by some blithering American Idol-like show. Facebook is useful after all.

The force of righteousness, powered by Zach de la Rocha's hair.

The force of evil. Trust me, there's evil in there.

Something similar should happen in the United States. There might be arguments for the fact that maybe people actually like Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA." These are probably the same people who think that Sarah Palin advanced women's rights, so we can pretty much ascertain the weight of their opinion. There are probably hordes of other people like that in Britain; this is the nation that gave the world Oasis. But nonetheless, it would prove a point to the folks in charge of the music industry to find better acts and to perhaps think a bit more about expanding their repertoire.

Also, Paul McCartney thought it was cool, so I guess it's a good idea.

"Yeah, I love Rage Against the Machine as much as this cigar."

Stop Ruining My State

2009-12-20T01:34:00.007-05:00

The one good thing that I hope the Jersey Shore series can show people is that the image of New Jersey is being ruined by people who flock there from other parts of the United States, namely Staten Island. (Sidebar: If you want to see a special on the visitors from Philadelphia, just watch an Animal Planet special on apes or something and pretend there's a beach.) It's them who give the image that the rest of the bozos come up with about New Jersey that the sane and normal people have to live with.

That isn't to say that there are the fair share of bozos and nilly-headed space-using wastes of life that float around the area. There are plenty. I can go retrieve a picture from my high school yearbook if you need proof. What adds to the hilarity is the uproar that they actually protest the "negative" portrayal shown on Jersey Shore. If you check out the Facebook group "MTV Jersey Shore is a disgrace to the Jersey Shore and its inhabitants" you'd probably see plenty of people that embody the sad stereotype that they are protesting against. Just check out some of them who have their pictures available. I've seen some that rarely have a picture outside of a bar and rarely doing anything actually intellectual. Pro-tip folks: if you've ever actually taken a deep look at your sad life, you've probably realized that A) you probably have a crippling headache because that took all the brain cells in your vodka-tonic soaked mind to think about and B) your life is that vacant and superficial.

So that being said, I tried to watch the show juiced up on coffee. This did not last long due to the fact that my attention span was fairly short and I was too jittery to sit still and type. So I put that off, got to other things, and forgot about it. But now that there was a mass snow storm and shopping was out of the question, I decided to pour a glass for myself and provide some analysis of MTV's masterpiece, Jersey Shore.

But of course, I had difficulty sitting through the first minute of the show. The first minute. I could not sit through sixty seconds. That's the amount of time that it take Peyton Manning to throw a touchdown and also somehow set up his team to be in field goal range, and I couldn't sit through watching twenty-something life rejects and their life drama.

Oh snap...your unattached guy left with some unattached girl who left because, you, another unattached girl, had gotten some dude's phone number. This is why I cannot take anything that happens seriously on this show. And it is quite funny that they actually take such things so seriously. I mean, I'm a jittery person and I don't even find myself bothered with the crap they bother themselves with. Granted, I do more in a day than "work" at a t-shirt shop, but nonetheless...

Pro-tip, Sammi: the phrase is "knock a bitch out" or "knock a bitch down," not "knock a bitch up." I'm pretty sure that phrase and ability is only reserved for males. The women's movement can only go so far, and I'm sure if they saw this show, it was not what they had in mind for the future of women.

Judging by how much I'm laughing at the misery Ronnie and Sammi are experiencing at this point, I might qualify as a sociopath. I usually don't take pleasure in people's misery...okay, not this much pleasure. But to actually take their "relationship" seriously is preposterous. The amount of tears they shed isn't anywhere near the amount I've shed when I realized my first fantasy football team wasn't going to make it through the season. I've probably had closer relationships with lady who works at the Administration building cafe. These people investing so much emotion into what are more or less glorified hook-up opportunities bring me irreverent amusement. That or it tells me that I'm soulless and have a heart made of ice formed from the tears of children.

Pro-tip Situation and Vinny: try not to pick up chicks that require a ride home from one of their mothers. Just saying that's a good policy to avoid statutory or a very angry father busting your head in.

MTV is doing an excellent job selling the whole Ronnie-Sammi relationship thing. Except I'm not buying it at all. I was probably right and have a heart of ice.

Ha ha at MTV with the fireworks while Ronnie and Sammi were sweating up the sheets. And what's with the term "smushed?" Come on, folks, get creative.

I wonder if the guys on this show have actually had a deep thought in their lifetime. Somehow they felt that the needed to "freshen up" their tan and haircuts, and go to the gym. I can understand the gym; that's not a bad idea. Haircuts and a tan? I'm pretty sure that mocha hue that you're sporting isn't less mocha-like than it was a few months ago.

"Mike would bang a Gatorade bottle if it had a pulse at this point." Oh snap. It's on, son.

Watching them dance sometimes is like watching a Discovery Channel program on an exotic nation. They even have a routine for the fist pump, which involves hitting the ground to "feel the beat" or whatever.

Snookie can't walk back in her heels. What really possesses girls to go out and party in heels? You know there is a high chance of not being able to walk straight, much less in heels. What's the point of wearing them if you know that they'll torture you? If you really look good, you'll look good regardless of whether or not you're wearing heels or flats. Might I suggest flats? It'd make the walk a lot easier. Plus, you won't be one of the masses walking around carrying your heels while stumbling around in your bare feet. As someone who's wandered around in Adams Morgan a couple of times, I've more or less discerned that it's better for all parties involved.

When you have to say "I think his/her name is...", that should be a major red flag. At least get the name straight.

Man...pizza looks good. I can't believe that I'm fantasizing about those huge Adams Morgan pizzas now. I never thought I'd say that, but damn, those slices of pizza were good. And I'm a major pizza snob.

Two guys, four girls...such a dilemma. Other dilemma: Saying "more cuter." Then again, if your nickname is "The Situation," we're not exactly expecting much out of you. And we're not expecting you to actually not be shallow either.

I love the use of war terms here. "Grenade," "heavy fire," and "bulletproof vest" apparently are all terms you can use while you're hooking up. While as a war nerd, I think it's somewhat interesting and hilarious, nonetheless, the metaphors are lost at this point.

"You better call me." "I will." Ha...yeah right. And I'm the King of Great Britain. I wouldn't be waiting by the phone for that phone call, ma'am.

If your first step to "growing up" is on an MTV show, you really have to step up the "growing up" process a bit. I figure that there'd be some steps you'd be taking at your age to adulthood.

"Typical fraternity college losers." And what are you doing with your life, my friend? I don't think you're doing much better.

And then there's the scene where Snookie gets socked in the face. MTV probably shouldn't have used it as a selling point for the show. That is a given. Also glad that they took the time to display a message about abuse to women. Glad that they could sneak a meaningful message into the show.

And that ends the show and the review. Hope you enjoyed that diatribe. See you whenever I feel like reviewing the next episode.

Jersey Shore Review

2009-12-12T23:13:00.004-05:00

After "watching" the first two installations of the show Jersey Shore on MTV, I figured a few things out:
1) I more or less got the idea of the show -> the Real World in NJ
2) I have to keep watching it and commenting on it for the, er, good of the public
3) I want to keep up with it
4) I want to take a break from the pile of work I'm doing and not think an intelligent thought for about an hour.

So here we go again, except now I've been guzzling coffee for a while since it is that time of the year when projects and finals are swirling in the air. I imagine the assessment that follows will be perhaps a bit different. So sit back, relax, tell the children to go to bed, and enjoy my running account of the show:

Oh, joy. The morning afterward. I've honestly never seen guys with hair that well-coiffed in the morning, shirtless, in the kitchen and eating cereal. Then again, I don't really seek out shirtless men in kitchens eating cereal.

It really is hard to try to sit through the show in one sitting without pausing for at least a beverage refresh. The sheer idiocy of the "characters" is sometimes too much to handle.

I suppose I'm not the only one who found the irony of Nicole wearing a ballcap that says "Pornstar in Training" while literally sucking on a pickle. I do not make this shit up. Go right now to the show page (the link is at the top of the post) and fast-forward it to 4 minutes. I wonder what she wants the world to think when she sits on the couch and talks about sucking the juice out of pickles. At least she's got big glasses to protect her eyes.

What is with the "sensitive" "relationship" music? Did we forget who these people are and where we are? I suppose so.

I love the manufacturing of drama. But I suppose it has to be interesting. I'm sure a documentary on my hunt for free beer at a party would not be the most scintillating hour of television.

The boyfriend whose girlfriend cheated on her is visiting. Hooray for more manufactured drama.

So the "crew" decides to go to Headliners, which apparently is yet another loud ass place with lots of lights and fake tans. Angelina and her friends, who came to visit, are there where Angelina's boyfriend will meet them. Once there, amidst the loud music and other stuff, Angelina and her boyfriend Mike sit down and have a drink at the bar...which somehow later escalates into the two breaking up. Wonderful.

[Sidebar: We later learn that her boyfriend is going through a divorce. I think a good idea for the future is to wait until the divorce is final. Just saying.]

While there, Nicole runs into some dude she hooked up with named Mike (not the same Mike that Angelina broke up with). At this point, I discover that Nicole has the facial complexion of a cardboard box. Is it healthy to be that tan? I hope it's fake, as I don't think brown spray paint is that harmful.

I really have to doubt the actual basic reasoning skills of JWoww or whatever the hell her name is. Does she know at this point that she is on a television show and that, unless her boyfriend doesn't have cable or the internet, he's going to find out someway that his girlfriend was getting frisky with some tanned-ass gel-laden dude? Then again, they didn't exactly assemble brain surgeons here.

Emotional disturbances suck, but I'm pretty sure you really don't have to be fully functional to work at a T-Shirt shop on the Seaside Heights boardwalk. Of course, Angelina's boyfriend breaking up with her is so much for her to handle that she can't show up to her job and mope. Instead, she cooks up the worst "I'm sick" excuse known to mankind. I've seen better excuse making in my four years of college. This whole situation exposes the level of brattiness that Angelina possesses...and also the level of sheer idiocy and stupidity.

At this point is when I finally understand what the t-shirt shop has to do with the entire thing. I believe that the guy who owns the shop also owns the house they live in, so the rent payment is the cast working for the guy at the T-shirt shop. It makes more sense now. Thank you Angelina for clearing that up.

And the inevitable finally happens: Jenny's boyfriend finally breaks up with her. Or so we think.

Around this point, I got unbelievably, uh, "tired" and decided that reading and working on the pile of papers that I had to turn in was important. So I stopped watching. Plus I think I was out of scotch.

Guests in Your Own Home

2009-12-07T13:43:00.007-05:00

In the film The Good Shepherd, there is a scene where Edward Wilson, Matt Damon's character, meets with Joseph Palmi, played by Joe Pesci (and based on real-life mafia figure Sam Giancana) on what is ostentatiously a Florida beach home. They're sitting around and talking on the shore and discussing possible machinations for the CIA and whatnot with that Fidel fella in Cuba. Eventually Palmi asks Wilson:

Let me ask you something... we Italians, we got our families, and we got the church; the Irish, they have the homeland, Jews their tradition; even the niggers, they got their music. What about you people, Mr. Wilson, what do you have?

To which Wilson cooly responds:

The United States of America. The rest of you are just visiting.

When I first saw the film, it was a slightly chuckle-worthy moment. It was probably the most brazen demonstration of WASP privilege I've seen in a movie. Other than that, I haven't thought about it much.

Earlier today, I wrote a post about the attacks on Pearl Harbor that happened 68 years this day. Some of the responses I have gotten about the post compare it to the Enola Gay controversy and warn me about "looking at things from the Japanese side" and the problem that whole debacle faced.

Hold up...I'm a bit confused here. The Japanese side? I was under the impression that I was writing about Americans in that post, not the Japanese. I didn't mention anything involving the Japanese naval aviators who were involved in the bombing or the Japanese admiral in charge of it. I was discussing the effects of what happened to Americans as a result of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Sure, they were of Japanese descent, but does that really diminish their American "credentials?" Many of them had been born in the United States and some had even been second generation. I was in no way advocating for the Japanese when I was writing about the Japanese-Americans.

After being notified that I misinterpreted a tongue in cheek remark on the internet (sorry dude), it really got me thinking. Why was such a nerve touched off in me? I'm pretty sure I get more offensive remarks on my facebook wall daily or comments on my status that would probably horrify a nun into combusting. And yet, I raised an eyebrow over something that was totally meant seriously. Why?

Perhaps that it reminded me that some people think that a portion of the population in the United States, including me, might possibly never be fully welcomed by some people into the paradigm known as "America." I can speak without the slightest trace of a foreign accent (or hell, adapt a Baltimore or southern accent), slug as many Budweisers as I want, and watch football as much as I want and yet I will still be looked at first as a foreigner and not as a full American. Even though I am an American citizen by birth, my loyalties will always be questioned by some. Of course, we are also deeply worried about the loyalties of Irish-Americans and their ties to Ireland as well, so I suppose it's not all that bad.

Some people might be a bit irritated when I advocate for the Asian-American position in discussions. I myself find myself somewhat irritated at times, as I feel that I have lost many of my ties to that community. Nevertheless, I am reminded by others that is not the case and that I remain part of that grouping, no matter what I think. As such, I must continually advocate for the Asian-American view, if only to remind people that yes, we might be Asians, but we are Americans nonetheless, just like everyone else. The United States is our home as well, and we intend to stick around.

The Other Side of the Coin

2009-12-07T09:56:00.002-05:00

Today, as I hope most of you out there know, is Pearl Harbor Day. I suggest you look it up if you haven't. There most certainly will be commemorations in local newspapers getting the memories of veterans down in print. Flags will be lowers to half-staff to honor those who died on that day. Yet as we honor those who gave their lives that day, perhaps we are also forgetting another group of people who would see their lives utterly destroyed by the events of Pearl Harbor: that of the Japanese who lived in the United States.

Japanese-Americans were already having a rough go at it since the 1906 Gentleman's Agreement, an informal agreement between Japan and the US to restrict Japanese migration to the US, and the Immigration Act of 1924, which banned Asians from immigrating to the US entirely. These were just indications of the general dislike, to put it mildly, that the "native" Americans had for the Japanese newcomers.

Then Pearl Harbor came along. The Japanese had been maligned in the press and by government officials in the prior years due to atrocities in China, but Pearl Harbor really kicked it into high gear. Calls for the internment and displacement of the Japanese were immediately raised by so-called "loyal" Americans. Apparently in the minds of many of them, the Japanese were not Americans and instead enemies loyal to their "home country." (Note: 2/3 of the Japanese on the West Coast at this time were born in the US). On Febrary 19, 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, giving the military the authority to round up enemy aliens they thought would pose a threat to the safety of the United States.

Imagine the swirl of emotions that many of the Japanese felt at the time. Many of them did not question the fact that they were Americans. Americans of Japanese descent, of course, but Japanese nonetheless. Merely months later for some, their lives were being turned upside down in the name of "national security," in which there was little to no evidence that any of them participated in such shenanigans.

This does not mean we should discount those who died at Pearl Harbor and those there who worked to save who they could. Nevertheless, we should also understand and look beyond the immediate event to see the larger tragedy at work.

Show Review

2009-12-04T01:25:00.005-05:00

As someone who grew up in New Jersey, you deal with a lot of crap. Not only from within the state of New Jersey, but also outside the state. You either survive Jersey or you wind up crushed and defeated. Or buried in the Meadowlands.

MTV is now airing Jersey Shore, one of their cheesy "reality" "shows." Think something like The Real World on the shore and you get the idea. They somehow got the idea to find a half dozen of probably the most airheaded and vapid nimrods you could find on the face of the earth, tan 'em up, and stick 'em in a shore summer house. More or less these are the guys that inspired the "New Haircut" viral video on YouTube, and the girls on the show...well, they probably just sat in Belmar or outside Club Abyss in Hazlet to get inspiration on the appropriate personalities to target.

When I first heard about this, I thought, "FUCK THIS BULLSHIT." (Sorry if the kids saw that.) It seemed like MTV had decided to reach further in the stupid barrel to find ideas for their show. No way I was going to patronize and further their cause by allowing my very "important" clout to further their machinations.

But then I gave it a thought and figured, "Eh, it'd be interesting." What changed this besides a glass of scotch? Well, another glass of scotch and the sheer irony of the acrimony surrounding the entire show.

Checking my news feed on Facebook, it was amusing to see the irritation by some regarding the Jersey Shore series. After having seen the "trailer" for the show, it was a bit scary how familiar some of the "personalities" in the show were to me. These people made up a surprisingly large demographic of the mouthbreathers that I grew up with back home in New Jersey. It was like spending time after-hours with the bleary-eyed dimwits that populated my summer microeconomics class at Brookdale Community College. And they were complaining about being shown "inaccurately" or "misrepresented."

As a result, I decided to watch the show. Unfortunately, my roommate was occupying the couch and the television watching various sports, so I decided the best alternative was to sit in my room, read a few articles for class, and have a drink or two. I also decided in that time period that I should also write a review/synopsis of the show. However, at the time of this writing, I did not catch the first hour, so the review presented to you will be fairly incomplete. To further exacerbate the issue, I had a few drinks while watching the show, so things are a bit fuzzy.

So more or less they collected a bunch of twenty-something dipshits from the tri-state area...okay, really just New Jersey, Staten Island, and some random dude from Rhode Island...and stuck them all in a house, where they seem to be drinking a lot, having a good time, and making full use of the hot tub. This is a show on MTV.

Lest you think that they're sitting around and whistle-dicking it, they're actually working in a T-shirt shop on the shore. What responsibility. It's hilarious to watch them actually trying to sell the cheesy ass t-shirts that are peddled by the various stores. I'm pretty sure a salesman is not going to convince me to buy some retarded ass shirt with some sentence of phrase that was amusing before I graduated middle school.

When they're not working at the t-shirt shop, they're doing the usual MTV show schtick. They get drunk (apparently their favorite pregame drink is some vodka punch they make in the house), hook up, fight, argue, all that good stuff. Now before you think it's one incestuous pool of people getting to know each other, they bring other random dudes back to the house. One hilarious episode in the part I saw involved a guy one of the "guidettes" brought home. ("Guidette" is a word they use. Don't sue me.) He managed to vomit on the lovely Astroturf like floor of the porch/balcony but also give the side of the house the business. Way to go. Hooray for MTV.

While the chronological details of the show are a bit fuzzy due to the fact that I decided my enjoyment of the show would be heightened by a few glasses of scotch, the fact remains that the show is hilarious in the overly manufacture drama that is typical of MTV shows. Plus, these folks are more or less cartoon characters. Cartoon characters that I went to high school with, but cartoon characters nonetheless.

Watching the show led me to believe that the folks in the giant MTV towers (or perhaps the section at Viacom reserved for MTV) have a set formula that they follow for every one of their damn shows. Jersey Shore is no different. Conflict brews in the part I saw over the issue of one of the overly tanned meatheads getting friendly with one of the "guidettes" that another overly tanned meathead is pining for or whatever the meathead equivalent is for that sort of emotion. What a shocker. Watching it unfold didn't really elicit anything like empathy from me, only a few very well deserved chuckles.

Now the show is honestly probably ironic comedy at its best. Anyone who takes it seriously probably has a bit of an over-reactive temperament. Word is that the anti-defamation folks representing the Italian community in New Jersey weren't too happy about it. In that case, I'm sure they're all up in Nintendo's business right now over not only Mario and Luigi, but also that Waluigi character. Maybe some representatives of the RAF should be suing the Peanuts folks for their misrepresentation of the fighter pilots during the First World War as a bunch of incompetent beagles.

But then again, there's nothing to be proud of here. New Jersey has gotten a bad rap, mostly due to the trash from the city and also the apes from Philadelphia (city of brotherly love my ass) who run up on the shore and decide to ruin it for everyone else. Now we have a televised series entitled "Jersey Shore" with a cast of idiots who are mostly not even from New Jersey. In fact, there is only one person, Sammy "Sweetheart", who is from New Jersey (Hazlet to be exact). This is a prime example of how New Jersey's image has more or less been tarnished by the unwashed masses that flood the place during the summer. Of course, there are plenty of other dopes and animal-brained humanoids running around to keep the dickwad coffers full, but the shoebies and bennies aren't helping.

So will I continue watching? Sure. Will I really care? Not really. Do I like drinking scotch? Hell yeah.

[Note: might be edited once first airing is fully viewed.]

Blacks and the Bosox

2009-11-20T17:34:00.005-05:00

Most baseball fans know about Jackie Robinson and the integration of the major leagues (or at least I would hope so) and also know that the major league teams more or less started mining, for lack of a better word, the Negro Leagues for talent, and there was plenty to be had.

Which is why I'm fairly curious about owner Tom Yawkey's stance on having African American ballplayers on the Red Sox. In a Verb Plow post (a blog run by Glenn Stout), he unearths a quote from Yawkey himself in a Sports Illustrated article about the difficulties the Red Sox had in fielding a winning team during the late 1940s and 1950s. (The Red Sox won the pennant in 1946 and would not repeat that accomplishment until 1967.) This quote is deemed the "smoking gun" in proving that Yawkey was probably not the most pro-African American fellow out there.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the quote is the following:

"...we scouted them right along, but we didn't want one because he was a Negro. We wanted a ballplayer."

(Read the whole story about the Red Sox's troubles here.)

Now someone out there has got to explain how two folks named Jackie Robinson and Willie Mays were not deemed ballplayers, as both tried out for the Red Sox. Perhaps one can make the argument that this judgment is made in hindsight, but nonetheless anyone who witnessed the Negro Leaguers play (especially against the all-white teams of the era) could see that these were special, if not talented, baseball players. I honestly have no clue how he could have made that judgment. Bad scouts? Possibility. Racism?

About that. At first glance, the quote really doesn't speak to the point of "I RAGINGLY HATE BLACK PEOPLE," but it doesn't exactly make good baseball or even logical sense either. Again, the African American ballplayers from the Negro Leagues were mostly fully capable baseball players who could hold their own (in varying degrees) in the major leagues. And even though he had somewhat of a point in not signing and ol' random Negro Leaguer, the fact remains that how he was not able to find any black ballplayer worth his salt is beyond me.

Another part of the quote from Yawkey lends some credence to the notion that perhaps he harbored some racist tendencies. He refers to them as "clannish" and rumors that the Red Sox were not signing black players spread like wildfire among the black players and the Red Sox were (no pun intended) blackballed in the community. Stout addresses this part of the quote in the following paragraphs:

The notion that an African American ballplayer in the late 1940s and 1950s would turn down an offer to sign with any major league team over any issue, even money, sounded spurious to me, and in a survey of the Negro League history books that I have in my possession, I could find no such accounting. But I wanted to be sure.

I contacted my friend Lawrence Hogan, a Professor of History at Union College in New Jersey, one of the foremost Negro League historians in the country and the author of Shades of Glory, published by National Geographic and the National Baseball Hall of Fame, a book which has been referred to as a definitive history of Black baseball in America. In an e-mail I asked him, “Are you aware of any Negro League players, from the time Robinson signed to the late 1950s, who turned down offers from major league teams to remain in the Negro Leagues?” I asked specifically if he had ever heard of such a claim in regard to a player refusing to sign with the Red Sox.

The answer is no. Wrote Hogan, “I have never heard even the slightest suggestion of either thing you mention happening. I am sure there were players good enough to be signed who were not because of the glacial pace of integration. But I can ot imagine any Negro League player turning down an offer, other than on the normal personal grounds of not enough money being offered, or wanting to get on with life in a non-baseball way.”

It's pretty silly to think that apparently all the African American ballplayers would somehow all join forces and not play for the one team. It's even sillier to think that every single one of them would somehow have knowledge and stand in solidarity.

It is important to also note that most teams did not immediately jump on the sign African American ballplayers boat. Only three teams debuted an African-American ballplayer the same year that Jackie Robinson debuted, and a large number of the teams in existence at the time debuted their first African-American player during the years 1950-54. Yawkey was not exactly the quickest guy to the trend, but then again, the rest of the owners weren't either. (In the interest of parity to make sure I don't get any anti-Yankees comments, the Bronx Bombers debuted Elston Howard on 14 Apr 1955, a little more than two years before the Red Sox debuted Pumpsie Green.)

I would like to see more about Yawkey in order to accuse him of being a racist dickwad. One quote does not make him or break him. But it sure is a building block in the case against him.

In Response

2009-11-20T14:47:00.001-05:00

In this blog post by the esteemed Jamie Harrison, he lists the 10 Best States for Lovers of American History. Number 10 on the list is the great state of New Jersey. While he makes a pretty good case for its inclusion on the list, I think it should be ranked higher in its significance. Why? Well, I'll tell you.

1) Trenton was a major turning point for the Continental Army

If Washington doesn't win at Trenton, well, we'd all be like those Canadians up north and nominally part of the British crown now. Trenton was a major and the first victory for the Continentals. They had been more or less routed and decimated at every battle Washington fought up to that point. But this sneak attack that took place the day after Christmas Day against the fairly hungover Hessians (talk about Santa leaving a piece of coal in your stocking) proved to be a huge morale booster and kept parts of the Continental Army together that would've simply melted away. The historical importance of the Battle of Trenton cannot be dimiminished.

2) Ellis Island, NEW JERSEY

In 1998, the Supreme Court ruled that the vast majority of the island was formed after the cessation of the original territory to New York was not covered by that cessation and that it was indeed part of New Jersey. As such, Ellis Island is a grossly important part of a large number of American's lives. Many an immigrant was shuffled through the building in their first moments on the shores of the United States...which were New Jersey shores, I might add. It's a great place to visit and learn a bit about what great-grandfather Giuseppe experienced when he first saw his new home.

3) That Thomas Edison dude.

The Wizard of Menlo Park set up shop in New Jersey and there are a few museums dedicated to him and his work. This is the guy who invented the light bulb, record player, and the motion picture (to put it very simply). Imagine not having any of those at your next party. West Orange, New Jersey and Edison, New Jersey both have museums and monuments dedicated to this great man.

So as you see, New Jersey is quite the sight for great parts of American history. While it probably does not rival places like Washington DC, it still should be given more credit in its role in shaping the nation. In conclusion, New Jersey fucking rules.

The Question

2009-11-16T12:04:00.002-05:00

Academia is a funny thing. Somehow you're being "productive" even though you're more or less a drain on society at best. You're busy all the time, and the only thing it rewards you with is a crippling coffee habit that puts the majority of government workers to shame. One would also hope that you are studying something that piques your interest. If not, well, enjoy the slow ride to hell.

These factors often lead people, including me, to lie in bed staring off into space wondering "What is the damned point of all this? Am I wasting my time?"

Every time I ask myself this question, I then think about the alternatives. What the heck would I be doing if I wasn't "being a student" or "pursing further education in the hopes I will achieve a salary that freshly minted bachelor's graduates at Lockheed Martin would sneer at?"

The answer turns out to be "nothing more glamorous than what I'm doing right now." Seriously. What sort of grand plan would I be pursuing at this moment? Not like there are a cornucopia of options out there. At best, I would most likely be living with my parents and sulking around while working a retail job. At worst, I'd probably be living with my parents and unemployed like it was my job.

In the end, however, this is what I wanted to do for a while. I wanted to study history. I could've been like every other wonk in IT and solely concentrated on that and possibly picked up more useful things like a certificate in Network Administration or a minor in computer science. Instead, I picked up history because I liked it and it would keep me from going completely and utterly insane while listening to some of the mouth-breathing glassy-eyed wastes of space in my classes express their "opinions." Plus, there are career options. It looks like most of my professors are not sitting in their offices counting out their food stamps. I'm sure museums need someone to watch the interns. And hell, it was interesting and I found that I was kind of good at it. Why not pursue it?

Sometimes I'm more troubled by the fact that I sit around and question whether or not I'm wasting my time than the actual answer. Shouldn't I just know?, I wonder. But then I realize that wondering doesn't mean crap if you don't come up with an answer. Crises are simple sound and fury signifying nothing if they don't produce a useful plan of action. I simply don't bother with them. There are too many readings to do and too many cups of coffee to slug.

Wondering is not a terrible thing. Asking yourself questions like "Do I really want to do this?" serve a purpose. But if you decide that it's worth it to walk through hell, well, keep on going.

The Kid in Me

2009-10-31T04:46:00.004-04:00

Probably the most crushing news I've heard recently is that Weezer is indeed not coming to my school in favor of playing some big radio station event in DC.

Now most people out there probably think, "Big fucking deal." These people are also probably the people who haven't felt the spirit of Christmas or haven't had a human emotion since they saw Fido get hit by the redneck neighbor's Ford F-150.

But to me, it is. As one of my previous posts discussed, I've got a soft spot for the folks that brought us the joy of looking like Buddy Holly and not caring about what people say about you.

As a 13 year old, there wasn't a lot going on for me, other than dicking around and finding the joy in kicking rocks. I more or less took being a peckerwood to an art form. Compared to what I "do" with my "time," I'm living the high life right now reading journal articles and sipping on scotch.

Looking back at everything, it was some sort of luck that I discovered Weezer. I have no idea how I found the first Weezer album I bought (it was the Green one, if you need to know the details), but I was thankful I did. Finally there was a group of musicians that did not look cool at all. I mean, just take a look at this:

Would you invite kids that look like this to a party?

Seriously, do these guys look like the coolest dudes on the block? Hell no. Hell freaking no.

And yet, these guys were fairly successful rock stars. (Yes, the bassist of that group kinda went nuts and fell out of the band, but three out of four isn't bad.) And look at them; they're complete dorks. Listen to their songs; it's about more or less being a inept dork caged by yourself with no way out or just the suck of life. And they make no qualms about singing about how uncool they are. I mean, they mention Dungeons and Dragons in one of their songs. How awesomely dorky is that?

Over time, I sort of forgot about them. I had discovered The Clash and got into thinking, "Boy, Joe Strummer is a hard ass and I want to be like him when I grow up" or some nonsense like that while I'm mentally mailing it in during calculus.

Of course, when I saw that Weezer concert at the end of the summer, it all came back. All those years of just being frustrated and groping and grasping at things in life I could never had came back, brought to the forefront by a lead singer and band which I could relate to. Honestly, while I am a diehard fan of the Clash, it's sort of folly that I can relate all the time to a bunch of hardasses whith fairly rough credentials. Meanwhile, I can easily see the kindred spirits in a group of squares on a stage playing rock music. Because I'm one of them.

So I hope this past summer isn't the last time I get to see them. I hope to one day be able to see them again. At least now I know the kid in me hasn't died yet. And he'll be happy too.

Apparition

2009-10-02T04:37:00.005-04:00

It's a strange thing feeling alone in a crowd. It's an awkward feeling as you wander through a crowd on their way to get a burrito or a slice of pizza feeling like you're some lost kite tossed to the winds.

I was walking back from a late class and I felt the bizarre feeling of nothingness flow through my veins. Yes, there was physical blood flowing through them (if there wasn't, this would be a post entitled "I had an aneurysm"). But I didn't feel any life flowing through me at that exact moment. And yet, I was still moving. It was a strange listlessness as I was more or less blowing through life.

Sometimes it might be because I'm trying to put some actual meaning behind why I do what I do, why I get up in the morning, why I go to class, why I do virtually anything. And when I don't find anything, it doesn't gel with my motivational theory of how people go through the daily motions of life. I've already discounted the absence of a reason because A) it's uncomfortable to think about that and B) if there was no reason, I would've mailed it in years ago. I've more or less written it off as a reason that cannot be explained nor or even in the future.

Nonetheless, sometimes I think it's because there's something missing. Something to give me a purpose in my listless wandering around. Something to give it some sort of structure or at least guidance. Raison d'être, if you will. But it also seems some sort of folly to try to chase it down. Instead, it'll find its way to me one way or another.

Perspective

2009-09-15T08:08:00.003-04:00

If the death of Michael Jackson taught me one thing, it's that people will feel sentimental for some of the dopiest things. Okay, Michael Jackson made some hit records and made friends with the local children, but he also more or less represented a gross commercialization of the music industry that made the majority of mainstream music about as thrilling and exciting as the weak tea they serve at the nursing home on Sunday afternoons. It was only then that hordes of his "fans" came out of the woodwork, most of whom would've easily cracked the K-Mart joke a week earlier.

Billy Mays death further reinforced that notion. It's sad that he died (I mean, it's sad when anyone passes), but seriously folks: he was an INFOMERCIAL "STAR." Star of infomercials you probably barely watched or cared about.

And now we have the ultimate point-counterpoint in notable deaths today. On one hand, we have Patrick Swayze, star of Dirty Dancing and...um...well, I'm sure he did some other things too other than getting "Hungry Eyes" stuck in my head. Oh, and Ghost. Yeah...some contribution to mankind. I'm pretty sure we can all get by in our pitiful lives if either of those two movies weren't made. Oh, and that crappy Wong Foo movie, the trailers of which left several questions for anyone my age at that time. Talk about unnecessary "cultural" "contributions." Thank god for kitsch, huh?

And then you have some dude named Norman Borlaug, possibly one of the most important men in the last fifty years to grace the earth. Um...wait...who?

Norman Borlaug. You know, the guy who saved nearly a billion lives with new strains of wheat that helped lift countries in the Third World out of starvation and misery. You know, actually important stuff that people should care about (at least more so than bubblegum pop, annoying infomercials, and dancing in a dirty fashion).

Whoa whoa whoa...this guy did? Why haven't we heard about him?

Well, maybe if you turn off VH1's "I Love this Decade for Really Insignificant Reasons due to Kitsch," you'll learn that he earned one of those neat Nobel Peace Prize things in 1970 -- you know, that thing that Martin Luther King Jr., Woodrow Wilson, Mother Teresa, and Dag Hammarskjöld have won. He also won the Congressional Medal of Freedom and the Congressional Gold Medal. India (one of the nations he essentially saved) honored him with their second highest civilian honor. How many people do you know that can claim all of those awards?

And yet, he still remains a mystery to most Americans. Why? Beats me. I suspect it might have something to do with the fact that we've all remained blissfully ignorant about the plight of much of the world while we force developing nations to adhere to standards that shackle them in poverty in the pretentious, full-bellied name of "environmentalism."

But that's another post for another day. I'd rather not tarnish the memory of Mr. Borlaug with that sort of diatribe. But I'll leave you with a quote.

“Some of the environmental lobbyists of the Western nations are the salt of the earth, but many of them are elitists. They’ve never experienced the physical sensation of hunger. They do their lobbying from comfortable office suites in Washington or Brussels. If they lived just one month amid the misery of the developing world, as I have for fifty years, they’d be crying out for tractors and fertilizer and irrigation canals and be outraged that fashionable elitists back home were trying to deny them these things.”

Dear Old Me

2009-09-01T02:02:00.004-04:00

This past weekend I managed (due to the serendipity of the gods or something equally ridiculous) to see Weezer at the Virgin Free Fest. That was probably the most existential I've ever felt without a few scotches in me. As I was rocking out, screaming my ass off, and singing along to most every song they played, I got to thinking about how pumped 13 year old me would've been to see Weezer live in concert. I concluded that 13 year old me would've said "bullshit and snow will fall in hell, you old fogey" and he would've been right about me being an old fogey and I would've shook my cane and told him about the joys of eight track tapes.

In all seriousness, I would've responded with the following letter.

"Dear 13 Year Old Me,

I know life sucks pretty hardcore at this moment. Trust me, I still remember at my 'old' age. And while I'd like to tell you that things will be amazingly improved 9 years later, things haven't really smoothed out. Anyone who's trying to convince you otherwise is just telling you that so you'd feel better and don't do something incredibly stupid. It's still going to be a rough go and you'll be thrown for loops you couldn't image. While it's going to suck, you'll be reinforcing that lesson that you've been learning over and over: you're the only person out there you can depend on. You're the only one who can guarantee that you'll be the #1 priority on their lists. Everyone else is gamble, and you're putting yourself on the line each and every time. Chances are that you're running a pretty high risk each and every time.

That tech thing you've been dreaming about? Give it up. Your reasons for doing it are complete crap. You're not going to fulfill that dream you've had for years about showing up all those mouth-breathing nimrods who made sure that you remembered how low you stood in the pecking order. Just quit on that. You'll discover that passion for history is the way to go, especially if you'd like to reduce the misery quotient. You got enough that's weighing on your mind all the time; don't waste any brainpower on something you quite frankly suck at. That malarkey about 'doing what you love?' They're not moronic hippies; they're right. I wished I realized this earlier and saved a bit of confusion and frustration. Wasting your time just to show up those morons isn't worth the time.

Get used to playing second fiddle. You'll realize that there's someone out there always better than you and to chase them is akin to trying to catch the wind. Don't worry about trying to beat out the competition. Just work on being the best you can absolutely be and completely disregard what everyone else is doing.

A corollary to the previous paragraph is that you're going to be playing with a shorter deck than everyone else. That is a fact that you'll think about more than you'd like, but it's something that's not going to change, no matter how you will it so.

You're time isn't always now; it's always going to be the future. Part of me (the old, grumpy man) says that's crap; the optimistic me (it's somewhere in my soul) says to keep holding out, no matter how difficult it's going to get (and it's going to get rough).

You're probably not going to like the future you at that age. That's fine. At times I wonder what I'm doing. Nine years later, you'll find that you've lost faith in most of humanity. This will trouble you, but after 9 years of sheer and utter bullshit, you're going to start to lose faith in your fellow man to be a genuinely good person. You're going to hold out hope for the most irrational reasons, only to realize that it was a waste of time and you probably should've been doing something else with your life.

You'll find people that you're somewhat comfortable with. However, you're going to get the sense that you're not really with it the entire time, and you're an outsider. At this point in your life, you're used to such sentiments and don't really dwell upon it. Still, the constant discomfort is quite irritating and you wish you could've done it differently. But you can't, so the only thing to do is to live through the constant discomfort.

All is not doom and gloom. You'll have a bit more freedom and you will meet some genuine people who'll stick with you, despite your thoughts that they'll turn and the drop of the hat. You'll pick up new skills that will (god willing) be helpful at some point. Also, you will see Weezer in concert. That won't make up for a lot of the bullshit you've dealt with, but the cathartic experience helps.

--
Future you."

P.S. Profanity is implied.

The River

2009-08-26T16:08:00.006-04:00

Is a dream a lie if it don't come true or is it something worse?

I'm a big Bruce Springsteen fan and I was listening to "The River" when that lyric came up. "The River" discusses a man who has to let go of his dreams due to the circumstances of his existence. Many of us live with that. We'd all love to be the awesome people that we think we are, but in all honestly, we're all a bunch of middling failures in the grand scheme of things. And no, I'm not exempting myself from this category and looking at you with hoity-toity disdain as I'm puffing away on a pipe and swirling my scotch in a glass; I'm in the same sinking boat as all of you folks.

Nevertheless, calling it a lie is a harsh way of putting it. Of course you have to let go of certain dreams at some point in your life. But does that mean that anything that doesn't pan out exactly when you want to mean that your dream is a lie?

We all live with disconnects with reality. Honestly, it's probably what keeps most, if not all, of us sane. Reality is a gritty, grim place. A few dreams here and there to doll up the place doesn't hurt too much. But it's when you've completely blinded yourself with those dreams and lost touch with reality that something is up. There comes a point when you have to accept the circumstances handed to you and figure it out from there.

Even still, you shouldn't fully give up on your dreams. Keep at least one alive; it's part of what makes us human. And if you're not human, then what are you?

Legacy

2009-08-26T15:08:00.002-04:00

Senatory Edward "Ted" Kennedy succumbed to brain cancer late last night at the age of 77 years, leaving behind a long, storied career in politics.

The list of accomplishments under his name would be so long that I'd have to dedicate a massive series of blog posts just to fully discuss them all, so I'll leave that to professional historians. One of the most notable accomplishments he will be remembered for is his work in civil rights, as theGrio notes.

However, there is one issue that is over-looked in that discussion and that is his stance on desegregation busing. Busing caused all sorts of problems most everywhere it was tried and took existing issues and served as a catalyst to make them major headaches. Many of the proponents of busing, Kennedy included, had children in private school where they would be unaffected by the decisions on busing.

This remains an issue as areas where busing was implemented saw fairly well-functioning school districts fall to pieces as those who could move out to avoid busing (whites) did so while those who couldn't (minorities) had to make do with whatever was left. Entire school districts were ruined by this policy. Prince George's County in Maryland was totally transformed by this change and now not only suffers from the problems in the school districts but also now has a crime rate higher than that of neighboring DC.

Now don't get me wrong: I did agree with some of Ted Kennedy's views. But let's not be so quick to make him a saint and a messiah, especially of race relations.

64 Checkered Squares

2009-08-13T00:56:00.005-04:00

I used to play chess quite a bit when I was much younger man. I played for my high school (I was that cool) and it was one of the few things I could hold my own in from time to time. Like most games, you learn a lot about yourself as a person and about life.

As a youngster, I had real difficulty sorting through how life worked. I just couldn't put it together to save my life. As such, I grasped for anything that I could use as a model. Chess somehow managed to fit. It was logical, which meant that it had comprehensible reasons for everything. There were definite rules that were inflexible that reduced variation. An opponent sat across from me, something that I felt was present at all times in life.

Once I've aged a bit, I've learned that things aren't like chess at all. You can't go around looking at logic for the answers to everything. People are driven by other things. This is what distinguishes us from the silicon machines we use to write and respond to blog posts. And because of this, making all the right moves 100% of the time doesn't guarantee victory, something which I've learned, often through the hard way.

It's something hard to reconcile, since a logical and refined world is easier to comprehend and sort through. As someone who has no clue about the rules of engagement, it's like grasping at straws or trying to devise a strategy for a game of which the rules are not defined.

Then again, who would really want to live a life that could be boiled down to 64 checkered squares?

The Ride

2009-08-11T10:22:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, I rode a bus route I hadn't ridden for a while. I avoided it because of what triggers I was afraid it would bring up. Nevertheless, necessity won out and I succumbed. As I was riding, I started to feel nothing. It wasn't numbness; it was just simple apathy. And that felt great.

Important Stuff

2009-06-30T20:47:00.002-04:00

In these tumultuous days, one of the most pressing issues in the nation is...the college football system? Wait, really? Well, apparently it's important enough that Congress has to get involved. That's right: Congress is going to hold hearings on the BCS system.

Quite frankly, it is a ridiculously dumb system. The manual ranks up there in the list of national secrets. However it's worked out it favors a few of the college football divisions and leaves the rest out. So if you're in one division and do kind of okay, you'll outrank a team that has a perfect record (and possibly a much better team) but is stuck in a division that is not as "notable" (whatever that word means in this context). There are have been several examples of this in recent history; Utah in 2008 and Boise State a few years back.

Now there have been several arguments about why they shouldn't change the system, too many and too moronic to list out. The simple fact remains that Division I football is one of the major college sports that does not have a playoff. In fact, most of the other sports and Division II and III football have playoffs, and I don't see a mass collapse there. Basketball, for example, seems to eke out a meager existence with it's playoff. Don't see why football can't.

What's even dumber than the system is the fact that Congress has to get involved. Seriously folks; the system is so blatantly idiotic that a sixteen year old (namely me) figured it out after trying to divine the formula for the rankings (it was a very slow weekend and I had just finished my math homework and was still in a mathematics mood). And now Senator Orrin Hatch (representing Utah, the state with one of the teams that got the shaft) has brought this to attention, citing violations of the Sherman Anti-Trust Law. And while this has been a problem for years, it's not exactly the most pressing issue we've got to deal with in the nation.

At least it's good they're "attempting" to "fix" the "problem." If they can resolve this, health-care, the financial crisis, Iraq, etc. should be a piece of cake, right?

Put Your Pants Back On, Partner

2009-06-19T03:07:00.002-04:00

if you've been following the news, you will have noticed a few things. For one, mother nature won't shut the freaking faucet off on the East Coast of the United States. But perhaps the biggest piece of international news that's made the headlines is the ruckus up in Iran.

Iran, to say the least, has been "pretty interesting" (that's my analysis of the situation) in recent history. Ever since we sniffed communism on Mossadegh in the 1950s, the very spiky ball that is current Iran was set in motion.

Everyone has heard that story and the story of the 1979 revolution, where a group of people decided the best way to make friends with the world was to storm an embassy. Everyone remember the extremism. It is interesting to note, like many other revolutions, that the initial period before the fundamentalists took over saw much participation by moderates who were very much in favor of the Western ideals of democracy and basic liberties seen in many western states.

Other revolutions have functioned fairly similarly. The French Revolution was mostly dominated in the intermediate stages by the Girondins, a moderate group of middle-class folks who were in favor of some change, but not the wild shenanigans that would come later. People forget that the Russian Revolution didn't just spring from a dictatorial tsarist regime to a dictatorial communist regime without some sort of "in-between" period. It's not like everyone was all about the more extreme communist system.

So let's not get too excited about Iran here. The fan's still on, and the shit's still in the bucket.

Introspective Pigeonholing, or Why Can't an Asian Study Whitey Too?

2009-05-27T13:14:00.002-04:00

Everyone knows the various stereotypes within academia; for example, the math, science, and engineering departments are all filled with Asians and Indians.

However, you can find similar pigeonholing within academic disciplines. For example, a black person is supposed to be teaching something about African or African-American history, while an Asian person is supposed to be teaching Asian history.

I can understand it if its the case, but what if you simply don't care to study it? I've come across people who can't get over the fact that their advisers simply try to shepherd them into the "appropriate" minority field of study. I remember coming across a woman who faced the same frustrations. Apparently because she was a woman, the expectation was that she would study women's history, which was not the case.

Some people try to dress it up as "knowing the subject of study well" and "knowing the audience" but what they fail to realize is that some people would rather just study old dead white dudes. Sometimes old dead white dudes with guns.

Graduation Report

2009-05-22T15:26:00.008-04:00

So even though I technically could've participated, I chose not to wear a funny hat and mumu and walk across a stage to shake hands with some dude for photo opportunities. Instead, I sat with the supporters in the cheap seats.

The day started out how it usually does: I didn't want to get up. I woke up initially at ten in a failed attempt to "beat the traffic," which wound up being an effort to sleep in until 11:30 AM, at which point I called my friend (codename: the Rock) to give me a ride. He picked me up shortly after, and we made our way to Charm City.

Well, it wasn't that easy. There was various piles of traffic littering the road. Apparently there's a lot to do in Charm City on a weekday during the middle of the workday. Who knows. There was an accident, so that would explain part of it. We watched the clock as we tried to make it in time to find halfway decent seats.

After finally making it into the city, me and the Rock were now on the quest to find parking and also the venue. It was quite an adventure, filled with wrong turns, expletives, and wondering where in the lord's green earth we'd wandered into. We eventually found parking at a ritzy hotel that would cost us whatever money we had left on our person, shoved in pocket corners and the bottoms of our shoes. Thankfully, this hotel was right across the street from the venue.

After making the perilous journey across the street (don't laugh until you've crossed some city streets) we made it inside. We discovered that apparently we weren't the only people who cared enough to come to this graduation. Apparently the people at our school have relatives who care and possibly some friends. We weren't the only one. After examining the situation, the Rock and I decide to go into the stands and watch from the back center. Centered, but afar. Story of my life.

We managed to get most of the "procession," i.e. the marching of students. Then the whole pre-show stuff started, with the national anthem and other such necessities. The one thing interesting about the whole thing was the fact that there was a sad attempt to do the Baltimore "O" during the anthem. Look it up. It's an actual thing they do. Weirdos.

So that was done and over with and the college president spoke. He's a charismatic fellow, so if he read a shopping list, most people would think "OH HELL YEAH BOLOGNA!!!" After that, the valedictorian spoke. I have never heard something more generic and dull since I read my last shopping list. It was probably the most generic statement one could have made about college. Thankfully, the speech lasted only 7 minutes, a period of time that probably wasn't useful to me anyway, so I wasn't too irritated by the loss.

There were a few of the "stand if you do [x] and let's give 'em a hand" moments. Apparently the entirety of the history department (save a certain reporter, who was in the stands) stood up when the President wanted to honor the future teachers. Tough economic times.

Honorary degrees were given to people who've "achieved things." This must make the Ph.Ds who slaved away at their degrees very jealous of these folks who are just handed the degree.

Then eventually we got to the people walking across the stage deal. We waited for our friend (alias "Mr. Too Big for Society") to walk across the stage. However, since the majors were listed alphabetically, he was stuck somewhere towards the end of the pack. I sat around and watched and waited for some of my other compatriots to let them know how much I really cared about them.

When Mr. Too Big for Society finally walked across the stage, I finally used all the energy I had been building up and using those vocal chords I'd been warming up for this moment. Cue the Michael Jordan intro music. I shouted "hard wood" as loud as I could. So the exact moment can be summarized by the following

"HARD WOOD!!!!!"

Yep. Screamed that out loud in public. Probably should've checked for children, pregnant women, and priests in the area, but it was too late. They just saw some maniac freak out and scream "hard wood" in public. It was great.

After that, it wound down. I increasingly got bored, thirsty, and hungry at the same time. I took a few breaks. The rest is a blur.

So that is the commencement that I did not participate in but nevertheless attended to at least make someone's day just a little bit more uncomfortable.

Legend of the China Specialist

2009-04-19T20:33:00.003-04:00

Some people are not qualified to do certain things. For example, I am most certainly not qualified to pitch for the New York Yankees (although judging from the game on Saturday, April 18, 2009, I'm going to start to limber up my arm just in case they need someone...but that's another blog post). And a lot of people are not qualified to comment on national affairs.

In that category is Jackie Chan. Jackie Chan is qualified to do a lot of things. He can "act," (dispelling the notion that English skills are necessary for any Asian to succeed in the United States), sing, and now he's apparently a qualified analyst on what sort of government the Chinese people need.

Recently, since apparently carrying the Olympic torch bestows powers I never knew about, Jackie Chan felt qualified to commentate about democracy in the "People's" "Republic" of China. And apparently, the Chinese people aren't ready to handle democracy and "need to be controlled."

Yes, the Chinese, the folks who brought you such great things as paper, gunpowder, chopsticks, printing, and the majority of your local university's computer science department, can't handle democracy because they're too busy...I don't freaking know.

Seriously, dude. Your reasoning is because Taiwan and Hong Kong are "chaotic." Right...yeah...and what the hell is Pakistan? Or Somalia, for that matter? Or this guy's 21st birthday party?

Let's take a look at the facts: Hong Kong is fairly freaking tame, despite what John Woo's movies say about it. It's a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but what city isn't? And it's not like it's being toppled by a coup d'etat every week or so. Nor is Taiwan. The "troubles" they've been having are fairly negligible compared to the actual chaos occuring in other nations.

Furthermore, let's take a look at how you've benefitted from a free world. Much of the money you've made, Mr. Chan, has been made in countries where freedom and democracy are thriving. Just letting you know. Heck, had you not been from Hong Kong, it might've been very very different for you.

And what would you suggest? Mao didn't exactly work out for China in the long run. And what do you base your judgement on? Hong Kong and Taiwan are about as chaotic as a dim sum brunch.

Maybe it's time to go back to making Shanghai Mornings or whatever it is you do.

No More Mr. Nice Guy?

2009-04-03T01:33:00.003-04:00

I'm a big fan of two things: history and not doing a damn thing. Thankfully, there's the internet for people like me. One of the my favorite sites to peruse when I'm busy accomplishing both is Cracked, a site like Mental Floss with some videos and also more snarky attitude that hints of 4Chan (if you can call what you find on 4Chan "snarky attitude). Perhaps the best way to put it is that it's less hipster.

They, like Mental Floss, have lists of stuff that tell you about some really neat stuff. One of the lists that I came across during my hourly perusal of the site is entitled "6 Historical Villains Who Were OK Guys." Go ahead and read it, and I'll let you know what I think.

6) Genghis Khan

He was a pretty nasty dude, but considering where he came from (a combination of Baltimore and the Great Plains but with funny Asian dudes on horses), you really can't expect him to be some cuddly Barney-like object. But many people don't give him credit for things that are really freaking important. One example is diplomatic immunity. Beforehand, it was a occupation that could literally cause headaches, and by headaches I mean losing your head. Genghis Khan had a enough of these shenanigans and decided that the next punk-asses to give his diplomats any lip/a blade on the neck would be taken to the hole. Eventually this evolved to the charming folks at the UN sitting with headphones, totally not thinking about how the cops will totally kick their asses.

5) Benedict Arnold

They hit this one on the nail. I do have a bone to pick with their portrayal of the invasion of Canada. It was a stupid idea that didn't work (and didn't work the second time either) and probably shouldn't have been executed in the first place.

The mention of the alliance with France also is sort of misleading. Many, if not all, of the major figures in the revolution had some combat experience with the French.

4) Antonio Salieri

Whatever pauper's grave Mozart was buried in, all the copies of Amadeus and any mention of the film should be put in there with it. Granted, Mozart probably was some sort of flamboyant show off (a cross between that chick from Poison and Rick James). But that doesn't mean you have to do some movies that takes history and warps it into something else.

3) King John

They're giving him a lot of leeway here. King John wasn't the sharpest pencil in the box, which they state. But that doesn't excuse the fun times he stirred up. I mean, when was the last time you managed to get an entire nation on the blacklist because you were an idiot?

The Magna Carta was fairly momentous, but it wasn't some amazing document that gave everyone equal rights and a white picket fence to put in front of their hovel. Not so. Cracked did a good job in pointing out that while it was a momentous occasion in the field of governments creating written documents to limit themselves, it wasn't that much of a victory over oppression.

They also bring up a good point about Richard I. For all intensive purposes, Richard I was a pretty bad king. He barely spent any of his time in England, instead devoting it to running around the Holy Land. And don't whip out some half-assed management theory about "managing through absence."

2) Captain William Bligh

Life in the British Navy sucked, and there's no other reason to believe differently in the case of the Bounty. Sailors get real pissy a lot of the time too. Plus, there's not much I know about the story, so I'll just gloss over it.

1) Edward I

Edward I was an amazing king. Compare what England was like under his rule with what it was like under his father, Henry III, and you'll see why. Thanks to Braveheart, this conception has been messed up.

Edward II, his son, was a total moron. He was about as much of a bumbling idiot as John was, and he made it look bad. His father tried setting it up as well as he could (including hooking him up with the hottest woman in Christendom at the time), but it all went to hell. Guess this competency thing skips a generation every once in a while.

Party's Over

2009-03-16T18:44:00.002-04:00

Being from the metropolitan New York area, the extravagant wealth of Wall Street wasn't some distant imagination of mine but something visible and tangible that I could see and (hopefully) one day experience first hand. Seeing it on the news everyday and meeting the fathers of friends who wore sharp suits and ties with crisp leather briefcases was a brief enough taste to make me want more...and to believe that I could not only taste it but even take a hearty bite.

As I grew up and the economy stalled and entered a dive it hasn't gotten out of yet, it became fairly evident that the extravagant wealth located on Wall Street was further than I previously believed, at least mentally. After a certain point, it was about as far from me as it was from the storekeeper in Lawrence, Kansas.

Reading the financial news sometimes makes a few of Shakespeare's tragedies downright cheery. I was only an infant when the last economically induced tragedy occurred on Wall Street. Even that didn't manage to leave such a wide swath of destruction. The current economic downturn now has seen the collapse of firms on Wall Street that had withstood several ups and downs, multiple terrorist attacks, the dot-com boom and bust. But due to some lending shenanigans, all of that is prologue.

Gone too are dreams and hopes of millions of Americans. There was a time when many thousands of people could have made a realistic play to be one of the multiple hordes on Wall Street, maybe even one of those who could have multiple homes only a Long Island Expressway ride apart. Now even the mere notion of being able to be a peon on the Great Wealthy Way has evaporated into the same air that retirements and dream homes and futures evaporated into.

Perhaps this is just a reminder for all of us that whatever rock we sit on, no matter how solid or adaptable, is never there permanently. It is only a matter of time before the winds of time and the streams of circumstances wash it away.

Wash Your Pants

2009-03-11T00:52:00.009-04:00

For another account of the following events, check it out here.

So I'm in my room studying for an exam. Next thing you know, my friend knocks on my door and says "My friend (let's call him "Jackson") just posted on his Facebook status that he's in the engineering building and some tall nerdy dude just turned on a computer and is watching porn." I thought, "Hm...that's odd." My friend adds, "I commented 'pics or it didn't happen' and he replied 'he's still doing it.'"

The first instinct isn't "Fucking ew." The first instinct is "INVESTIGATE." I promptly change into street clothes and put on shoes as fast as I can. I grab my digital camera.

We rush outside. We try to work out the quickest way there. We figure it out and head that way. On the way there, we run into a guy (let's call him "Johnny") outside the engineering building where the lab is smoking a cigarette. He says, "Hey, what's up?" We quickly and hurriedly reply "Uh...we're real busy. Catch you later."

On the way to the lab, my friend jokingly says "What if it was 'Johnny?'" I dismiss this. When we get there, "Jackson" tells us, in some graphic detail (too graphic for this somewhat family blog) what he did and where he did it. I see the computer he was at.

Why is this important? Because here, when you leave your terminal for a while and you're still logged in, the computer "locks" and it says "This computer has been locked by [so and so]."

So naturally, when I see the exact computer, I immediately think "A-HA! I can see who it is!" So I walk over to check it out to see who it is, out of curiosity. And I see the name. No. It's..."Johnny." No. No. The guy we saw outside smoking a cigarette. No. No. No. A guy my friend and I BOTH KNOW. No. No. No. NO!!!

I am not prepared for this. I was expecting some pale mouthbreather that you'd see outside the lone adult movie theater in the Fells Point neighborhood in Baltimore on a Sunday afternoon wearing a trench coat and rubber boots, or perhaps one of those guys on To Catch a Predator. That I could've expected. This...this is too too much for me.

Bells and whistles are going off in my head like none other. It's like freaking Notre Dame in Paris during a wedding up there. I have information that I can't just divulge. I can't just belt out "'Johnny' was just squeezing the cream out of his eclair" in public. No. I must privately tell my friends the ridiculous mind-blowing news.

Then, all of a sudden, "Johnny" comes back into the computer lab. Oh no. Johnny sees me at his terminal. I have the information and my friend, "Jackson," and "Jackson's" friend don't have the information. I have to make it back. I am caught snooping for evidence. This cannot go down with me. It must be known.

"Hey," I think. "I think he might not have noticed me. I can make a break for it." Which is what I did. "Johnny" took a step. I took a step. "Johnny" took a step. I took a step. We match each other step for step.

I manage to get back just as he gets to his terminal. The horror and shock engulfs me. This man had been touching himself in public inches from where I had just stood. A man that I know. The look of horror on my friend's face is evident as well.

We promptly leave to go outside and proceed to giggle our asses off. We recount our own "touching" stories. I mention I saw some fellow watch porn on his laptop in class while there was a film being shown.

When we return, "Johnny" is at it again. The video chat is fully on. There's some scantily clad ho on the screen doing things. His eyes are glued to the gyrations and self-caresses on the screen. I watch in horror and amusement. He gets excited and starts giggling himself. I can't stop laughing and giggling. I snort in a futile effort to stifle my amusement. I cough to cover it up. My throat is sore.

Another stranger is party to what is going on. "Johnny" is to this stranger's right hand side as he's, um, well, stretching the Johnson out. He hasn't looked to his right in about an hour. He looks horrified. I feel sympathy for him.

I decide to try to get a picture. Problem is that the camera makes noise when it takes a picture. So I step out of the lab to turn on the silent mode. I take a test picture of a sign. Quiet as a pin dropping. Perfect. I am going to win some sort of unofficial Pulitzer for this. Or at least have it put on CollegeHumor.

I go inside to try for the perfect angle without being too obvious to anyone else. I jostle, I fidget, I maneuver any which way to get the perfect angle of what's going on. No such luck. I just got cheated out of the image of the week: a dude yanking his doodle in public. My career as a photojournalist got cut short by my desire to remain incognito, much like some wildlife expert in the savanna, observing the wildlife in as undisturbed of an environment as possible.

Eventually "Johnny" gets wise to our leering eyes, and he throws up MATLAB as a cover. Just tosses it up and acts like he's working, when in actuality he's just moving the mouse around and pretending to work as a stalling tactic so he can go back to "Fantasy Sparkles" get her groove on in cyberspace. We sit there for a bit longer, and me and my friend decide to leave.

My friend and I are in amazement that the guy would continue to patron the virtual services of that nature even after he was clearly busted, literally, with his pants down. We both know that "Johnny" has a computer in his room.

Now I have watched a New York Giants game on the school computers. That was when my laptop was busted. But I don't exactly look at dirty pictures on the computers, nor do I decide to unzip and let it fly.

This leaves us with the only conclusion: he's gone from weird fucking dude to...public pervert.

Now do not question my morals here. I just put myself on the line for the public good. You're welcome.

Which leaves us with this question: How much was he paying for this?

(some identities changed to protect the real people. yes this happened. you cannot make shit like this up.)

Not for Teacher

2009-03-10T17:57:00.005-04:00

Even though I grew up in what was becoming more and more a white collar town (some would say the town would be "white trash with money," which is also true), there are some solidly blue-collar roots in the town. The local chapter of the Teamster's Union (Local 469) is based in the next town over. Many of the residents remember their parents or grandparents working in factories in the big cities and talking about the unions.

But perhaps the biggest union in the town is the teachers' union. This is mostly due to the fact that there are 12 elementary schools, 3 middle schools, and 2 high schools for the entire town for a grand total of 17 schools (i.e. tons of teachers). And while there were some sizable wealthy number of people who lived in the town, the majority of the town sent their children to the public schools as they provided a decent education.

As such, the teacher's union had some decently potent power. And as we all know, power corrupts, and potent power corrupts potently. The union eventually decided twice during my time in the K-12 system to go on strike because the town wanted to bring the level of benefits somewhere near the level of reality. The first time wasn't so bad as they managed to find enough substitutes to keep things somewhere near functional (well, as functional as one could when you see your English teacher outside with a sandwich board sign).

The second time is when hell not only broke loose but also busted out his buddies. Not only did they go on strike for a week, but schools were shut down as well. Furthermore, it was a day by day basis, so you really couldn't plan for it until you saw the morning news. In addition, since it is against the law where I'm from for teachers to strike, they got arrested. While there was the whole shtick of "oh, we're just doing what MLK did" (yes, they tossed that line out), it was interesting to see [Teacher X] who yelled at you in recess in an orange jumpsuit and leg chains.

What I got out of the whole ordeal (besides funny stories to tell the kids in neighboring towns) was a bit of wariness about unions. I understood their place in the world, but sometimes it just gets out of hand and the purpose gets lost in megalomaniac's pipe dream and delusions of grandeur. And once that happens, well, you're just about as bad as the employers.

As such, when the news about Obama stiffing it to the teachers by telling them that they actually (like real people) had to earn their keep by *gasp* doing a good job, I felt somewhat proud of the guy. I mailed it in through the majority of K-12 education and had the teachers been actually rewarded for actually doing a good job, perhaps I would've actually learned more in school rather than outside of school watching TV, reading books, and playing video games.

The rest of us in the real world have to live by that standard. If we do a good job, we get rewarded, and if we've simply been mailing it in, we don't get rewarded and sometimes we get punished. There are reports that in some places, it's damn near impossible to fire some teachers for offenses that would find me out on my ass before I could think "organized labor." I fail to see what's wrong with that.

Furthermore, with a few exceptions, the people that I have seen going into education are less than, um, "intellectually stimulating" and as such, I'm pretty sure a good kick in the ass/some motivation to actually step it up a few notches in meaningful ways wouldn't hurt.

Then again, I'm pretty sure some time in leg shackles and an orange jumpsuit would perhaps part the same message as well.

2-28

2009-02-28T11:33:00.004-05:00

The Cold War was a pretty hairy time for most people in the world, especially if you lived in an area outside of Europe and its subsidiaries and the United States. Personal freedoms were quashed in many parts of the world in the name of stopping communism and (oddly enough) defending the free world. Human rights abuses occurred in nations ranging from Argentina to Zaire, all in the name of "freedom."

The beginning of a horrific and much too long chapter of the Republic of China's history during this time starts on February 28, 1947. The day previous, a riot had broken out after police apprehended a 40 year old widow for illegally selling cigarettes. The police had been less that civil in their handling of the situation, and the widow was pistol whipped. The surrounding crowd of Taiwanese were not so thrilled at the Chinese cops' show of force and made it clear that they didn't approve. They began to chase the cops and the cops fired back.

For a month afterward, the Taiwanese were able to seize control of the island. ROC officials declared a state of martial law to no avail at that point. On March 8, ROC troops landed on the island and began a nationwide crackdown on dissenters. It was not until 1987 that martial law and what became known as the White Terror ended.

It is still a subject that is not widely discussed in Taiwan. A reparation system has been set up by the government to set up funds for restitution for the victims or relatives of victims involved in the incident. Due to the fact that many Taiwanese have been fairly quiet on the subject, many people who were victimized are less than thrilled about coming forward about it and those relatives eligible might not even know about the involvement.

There is some openness about the incident now. A plaque commemorates the exact location of where the shooting took place. There is a memorial to the incident outside of the Presidential Office in Taipei. It's a fitting place to put it to remind the president about what happens when government steps too far for too long.

There is also a park in Taipei named 228 Memorial Park. The park, built as Taihoku Park by the Japanese and renamed Taipei New Park by the Chinese, was the center for broadcasting by the main authorities. The park recently had its name changed to commemorate the incident on February 28. Considering the fact that the park has had so much surrounding it that represented repression and restriction, it is sort of a dramatic irony that the park has become a spot where gay men meet. In fact, it was the starting point of the first and second Taiwan Gay Pride parades in 2003 and 2004.

Just to think...an incident of oppression lent its name to a park where people start marching from in a display of their freedom and individuality. Now that's progress.

Race

2009-02-09T20:30:00.004-05:00

This weekend, due to a hangover, my Indian friend, my white friend, and I (I'm Asian, just to clarify) sauntered into a Vietnamese restaurant to score some beef noodle soup. Afterward, we went into a nearby Indian grocery because apparently they have some really awesome mango juice. I made the quip that we were a walking joke at the point ("So a white guy, an Indian, and an Asian walk into an Indian grocery...").

We go in (I pick up a guava juice, for the record) and we go to the register. When we get to the register, the cashier (an Indian guy, if you forgot it was an Indian grocery) asked us how much the juice was. We didn't know, so he asked the other cashier (also Indian) what the price was on the juice. The other cashier said it was 99 cents. My Indian friend immediately agreed. The cashier immediate did one of those Russell Peters examples of "typical Indian behavior" and immediately did a finger wag and said "No no no no no no. It is not 99 cents. No no no no." He eventually ran back himself and checked the price. For the record, the price was $1.40.

Later that same weekend, my friend and I go to some bar in Halethorpe. Now this should've sent bells going off in my head. Halethorpe...bar...this isn't exactly going to be the Library Bar in LA or the Hudson Hotel Library Bar in NYC. But I thought "Hm...vaguely Irish name, must be an Irish bar. Can't be too bad, right?"

We show up to the place. There was a motorcycle outside what appeared to be a former residence that somehow scored a liquor license through some sort of coercion and rustling up of the local sheriff by some biker gang. I saw a motorcycle outside. Naturally, I thought to myself, "Hm...I wonder if there are any Asians in there" (I'm Asian, if you forgot already). My friend and I walked in and lo and behold there were no Asians. Instead, there were just several white people of the, um, upscale Appalachia variety looking at us. I don't know who they were staring at more: the young, clean cut college student or the Chinaman who was ruining their white haven. It didn't help that there was also some dude with a Confederate flag embroidered on his leather jacket. He probably owned the motorcycle outside. Thankfully, I was not the victim of a good ol' America Fuck Yeah moment gone wrong.

Whoops

2009-02-02T01:19:00.003-05:00

So according to one of my previous blog posts, I predicted that the Cardinals would win. It was looking good up until the last drive of the game. Guess that's a career path I shouldn't be taking.

Oh well. Life is not a feel good movie on Lifetime or the Disney Channel. This game reminds us that the underdog doesn't always win. There's a reason that they're the underdog. Sometimes the bad guys are victors. That's life, and we've all got to come to terms with it.

Spring training can't come soon enough.

No Soy Un Soldado

2009-01-27T03:51:00.004-05:00

There is an old Chinese saying: "Do not point out the splinter in your brother's eye when you have a log in yours." It's a pretty fucking bizarre saying. First thing, what sort of woodshop are you running when you've got wood floating around in each other's eye? Second, if you got a log in your eye, you wouldn't be saying "Hey bro, you got a splinter in your eye" but "HOLY SHIT I'VE GOT A FUCKING LOG IN MY EYE CALL FUCKING 911!!!!"

But the point is simple: don't be messing around in other people's business when there's stuff going on nearby which is going to seriously mess your life up, such as a log in your eye. That'll mess your life up worse than drugs.

I read this article on MSNBC about this dude they call the "Stewmaker." Sounds interesting. Interesting morphs into curious/morbid when I drop the fact that he works with the Mexican drug cartels into the mix. Apparently, his job was to dissolve the victims of whatever drug related violence the cartels ran into acid to dissolve the bodies.

The Mexican drug war has been sailing under the radar while the United States has been basically earning the ire of anyone who adheres to the Muslim faith. Mexico has always been fairly nutty (if you've seen Man on Fire with Denzel Washington, you know what I'm referring to). Now we've got Mexican drug cartels who have their fingers so far up the rear end of the government that their fingernails are tickling the tonsils running a little too close to the border of the United States. Incursions have occurred as well, an issue that should be addressed.

Now the United States did try catching the last guy who seriously tried dicking around with the United States (it was during a war as well) and it wasn't the most effective thing in the world, but at least the United States did something drastic. It's understandable that the United States has limited capabilities right now, but it's less understandable to let the Mexicans pose a threat so close to the national borders.

Prognostication

2009-01-18T23:58:00.003-05:00

Congratulations to the Arizona Cardinals for making it into the Super Bowl. Honestly, I don't know how you maintained a semblance of the ability to play football, after essentially mailing it in for the second half of the season, with a QB who was 10 years removed from his last Super Bowl and bounced around more than a rusty pinball in a Coney Island arcade. In addition, the last time they made the playoffs they were still in the midwest somewhere. Furthermore, they were supposed to lose to the Falcons, the Panthers, and the Eagles.

And congrats to the Steelers. Big Ben managed to not colossally mess up (unlike some other QBs) and also had a defense lead by Polumalu, who is most likely certified insane (have you seen his hair?). Also have to give props to their coach, who is actually a year younger than Kurt Warner.

And they meet in the Super Bowl. The geratric Cinderella leading a team who was futility personified for decades and also the backup to some pretty boy in the beginning of the season meets the team led by Big Ben and his team of crazed defenders and some other dudes who are on the field the other half of the game.

I'm calling it now: the Cardinals might pull it off. It's a very similar situation to the last season's playoffs: a team who was supposed to lose at every juncture goes up against the team that is supposed to win and pulls it off. That's right: the Cards are this year's Giants. They've got something going on for them, their record and second half play be damned. It's basically written out: the old timer leading his team after a long and sort of embarassing hiatus away from success and his wide reciever who is doing things that defy the laws of physics.

Cardinals will be Super Bowl champs.

Of Cart and Caddies

2009-01-12T12:34:00.002-05:00

Anybody out there remember Afghanistan? You know, the country we invaded before Iraq (with an actual reason)? Well, things were picturesque there for about a month or so before everyone got so hopped up and excited on Iraq and neglected to try to fix Afghanistan. Well, now things are rearing their ugly head again. A story from the Washington Post describes the growing disconnect between the rich and poor in the nation.

Anyone who has studied world history probably knows that if a nation has a sizable portion of the population in severe poverty things get a bit testy and people start agitating for pretty radical things so they can get food on their table and a wallet with some weight to it. This is starting to become the case in Afghanistan. All of a sudden, a select few individuals (with either government, tribal milita, drug, or some combination of any of the three) are becoming increasingly wealthy as the country's poor are becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the current system and are actually thinking about how things were during the Taliban era.

Much of this has to do with the government in place in Afghanistan. Hamid Karzai has had little control beyond many of the "urban" "centers" of Afghanistan, and even that is questionable. While he should have some way of trying to combat the growing inefficiency and corruption, there's only so much he can do. Just look at Pakistan and its ability to try to rein in parts of its own nation. Afghanistan is essentially an entire nation made up of those rogue western parts of Pakistan.

At this point right now, the US is in poor shape to try to bail out Afghanistan, with the problems it already has with Iraq right now and trying to help establish Iraq's government/get the hell out of there in as good of a shape as possible. But even its assistance would have to be immediately effective in order to make any sort of headway; otherwise, it would look like the current regime is an American puppet, thus increasing the popularity of radical factions in Afghanistan in a manner reminiscent of Iran. There has to be more than monetary assistance poured into Afghanistan; people have got to spend some time there to supervise and run the infrastructure smoothly before the government itself can function properly. I mean, who cares if you don't have a democracy when you don't have food or shelter?

Va, Pensiero

2009-01-05T23:51:00.004-05:00

A lot of people get really touchy-feely/excited for being back in some land where they feel some sentiment. Good for them. I'm not one of them.

In Verdi's opera Nabucco, perhaps the most famous song out of the entire work is "Va, Pensiero" or "Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves." It is about the yearning of a lost homeland. Some people have interpreted it as an anthem for il Risorgimiento, but recent scholarship has disproven that notion and Verdi's role as a whole as the aristic paton of il Risorgimiento has been downplayed.

I can sort of understand. It sucks being a stranger in your own place, especially if you've been attached to somewhere for a while. I've grown up not really growing an attachment to where I was. It was a place to me. There are millions of places around the world. It was just another place, and I could always find somewhere better/more interesting. Something happens to the place I am, whatever. I'll cry about it when I'm dead.

As such, I really don't understand why people develop attachments. Yes, it feels nice to be grounded, but all things are pro tempore. It'll probably go away before you do or something else might happen and then you're out of luck and wandering around lost. So what's the inherent point?

Who knows. Maybe we're just programmed that way, despite the logical problems it presents.

Pakistan: Stop Fronting

2009-01-02T14:35:00.002-05:00

Pakistan has made several moves and announcements recently regarding how they're going to "fuck shit up" if India does anything. Right.

Let's face it: India will probably not do anything for fear of the Pakistanis firing off nuclear weapons because we all know that Pakistan has as much control over its own country as your local 7-11 manager does and because an unsafe minority of people in Pakistan are what we can probably safely call "bat-shit insane." Pakistan, if they do anything further to piss off India, will probably be wrecked. Taking a look at the CIA World Factbook statistics, the number of troops India could muster in addition to its decently technologically sound infrastructure (ships, aircraft) isn't something to sneeze at either. The end result of anything happening would probably be something of a mess.

Any sort of saber rattling by the government of Pakistan is talk that shouldn't alarm anyone. As for those fellows in the mountains, well, that's a different story...

Truce

2008-12-25T00:56:00.002-05:00

As someone who reads a lot of stuff about war, you find some shocking moments of humanity in what is seemingly a sea of depraved indifference to a fellow man. One of the more poignant stories about such a moment of humanity is the 1914 Christmas Truce on the trench-marked fields of France.

1914. World War I had just started to rage. The men were in for a grueling four years of punishing trench warfare that would wipe out a generation of males in Europe and leave scars that would not be healed for quite some time. Nationalist fervor had brought upon a rivalry between nations that bordered on hatred. Ripe time for decking the halls, no?

Well, at least the Germans thought so. They began doing the customary decorating (Christmas trees are a German concept) and festivities. Scottish troops on the other side began singing carols. After a while, things warmed up between the sides enough that they left their trenches and began exchanging gifts in no man's land. Soccer (or football, since we are speaking of Europe) matches started to break out in no man's land. The soldiers had time to talk amongst themselves, and they realized things weren't so different. Many of the German soldiers spent summers in England as taxi drivers, and Bavarians and Scotsmen shared the same animosity towards the dominating force in their respective nations (the Prussians and the English, respectively).

The next day, things went back to normal. But this event occurred once again in 1915 and once again during Easter in 1916, along with some smaller occurrences. Nevertheless, it was a moment not forgotten. One of the best books about war that I've read is about this very instance in history, called Silent Night. It's one of the few books that I've read that has sent chills down my spine.

Recently, on Armistice Day (11 Nov 2008), they replayed the game at a similar spot where the original truce happened. Germany won the match, 2-1. But I guess you can figure out who the real winners and losers were.

I Like Revenge Served Like My Gazpacho

2008-12-25T00:10:00.005-05:00

One of the basal instincts that many of us have as human beings is the desire for revenge, the desire to get someone back, the desire to see things evened out. That is the inherent basis for the establishment of a justice system, to ensure that the proper price has been paid by a party who has supposedly wronged another (even though modern justice systems have their flaws, which is a topic for a different time). But life is filled with injustices that happen that don't warrant such major addressing. So what do you do?

I recently decided to borrow a movie from my local library (now that all my papers are finally done with) called Rocket Science. The movie spotlights the life of a stuttering, awkward high school kid named Hal Hefner who probably has enough issues to have made me look well-adjusted back in the day. The film spotlights his immersion in the New Jersey suburban high-school debate world (how's that for a sub-segment of society) and we watch as he's allured into that world by a sharp, veteran high-school debater with a ridiculous drive to succeed. Oh yeah, the debater's a girl. And being an independent movie, you can probably figure that yes, it hits the fan quicker than you can drop the f-bomb. The second half of the movie is essentially his awkward fumbling in an attempt to win her back/seek some sort of redemption. And being an independent movie, you can probably guess where that leads.

I really did empathize with this kid's drive to seek some sort of payback, no matter how ill-conceived it was. And it make me think about a lot of things. For one, why are we so wrapped up sometimes in making others feel as miserable as we are? Is it because we sense some sort of pride that we have? Take that kid in the film. What sort of pride does he have?

Perhaps it is those who do not have much to give away that fight for it the most. An awkward, stuttering teenager is going to feel a slight like that much more than someone who's successful and more well adjusted. To have what could have been something successful and then lose it like that for someone who probably hasn't even sniffed the scent of it is a disastrous blow.

Remember that when you're seething with the desire for payback. How much did you lose? And how much will you gain?

Oh yeah, merry Christmas. And don't spit in the eggnog...unless someone really deserves it.

Merry Go WHAT Myself?!?!

2008-12-23T17:36:00.003-05:00

Around this time of year, the problem of what one says to wish someone a happy whatever holiday (or lack thereof) surfaces. It's a serious major controversy, making the news every once a while. Fundamentalist Christians are railing against "Happy Holidays," as if all those naughty atheists are going to be rolling into town fornicating on a flat-bed truck and drinking Jack Daniels out of the bottle. More secular folks have been railing against saying "Merry Christmas" as it seems imperialistic and insulting to those who are not Christian, as if the perpetuation of saying "Merry Christmas" will result in something like the Knights Templar rolling into town on tanks (which I think would totally be cool until they identify my heathen ass and send me to kingdom come in a first class parcel).

Either way, it's a load of malarkey. Say what you want. Hell, say things that don't completely make sense. Go up to a rabbi and wish him a merry Kwanzaa, like I did. Go up to a priest and ask him how his latkes turned out. (For the record, the priest asked me why I was calling him from his own office at 2:00 AM.) Wish people whatever to just mess around with them. After all, it's truly the thought that counts.

Restlessness

2008-11-29T01:18:00.002-05:00

Where I go to school, a lot of people start getting really really antsy if they've haven't been home in about a couple of weeks, probably due to the fact that they can't do their own laundry or make their own food (i.e. avoid adulthood and maturity). I've gotten used to not going home and come to accept it as a part of life and really could not care less.

Now that I am home, I see how this has affected me. A lot of the time, frankly, I've stopped caring. I've learned to live where I am pretty damned well, and returning is sometimes more of a hassle than it really is. And what am I returning to? Frankly, not a whole lot that is really alluring.

Sometimes I really don't understand people's attachment to certain places or things. Having to go home every so often is a prime example. Is it that hard to suck it up and live an adult life?

Lies You're Told

2008-11-20T04:05:00.001-05:00

There are a whole bevy of lies that I could probably expound upon, but I'm going to concentrate on one for now. If you want, you can go sign up for a blogger account and get cracking on your own set.

"Things will get better later when you're [different place goes here]."

I've been told that countless times. I was told it in elementary school, middle school, high school, and now in college. Man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I'd probably be able to finance a better bottle of scotch whisky. And if that was the case, things would probably be...the same, really.

Things don't change, really, unless you change. There are just things that are not going to make a damn difference unless you as a person make some radical shift in who you are as a person. Until then, any hope that things will all of a sudden make themselves better because you're in a different place is simply false.

It is not the surroundings that make the man. The man makes the man. And even then, it's still a challenge to complete reinvent yourself. But just because you're in a different environment doesn't mean that all of a sudden you'll be a different person. You got to put some effort into it. And even then, the results aren't guaranteed.

My advice? Just tell people that life probably is going to be the same throughout and to accept it, deal with it, and move the fuck on. At the very least, they should stop lying.

Lilies vs. Lunch-Pails.

2008-11-17T17:54:00.000-05:00

People often seen the left as a bunch of hippies, bizarre academic socialists/atheists, or those annoying buggers on the street corners of Washington DC trying to get you to sign up for Greenpeace. That's a damn fucking shame.

When I was much younger, that was the way I felt. I lived a middle class lifestyle which would lend one to start adhering to those ideas and beliefs. Then I turned 17 years old and then had an epiphany: they were saying absolutely nothing.

Look, it's great that you're trying to help, but your effort is going to waste pretty much by going to Trader Joe's and buying the "free-trade" coffee at Caribou Coffee. Good for you. I might see those changes one day. And the fact that environmentalists advocating for public transportation haven't taken a public bus is really damning.

It was a true epiphany when I saw what amounted to silliness combined with some sort of mental pleasure stemming from their own notions of how great the world is with them contributing. Apparently they missed the memo that sitting around eating hummus and discussing how great a green and socialist world would be isn't helping.

One of the things that they have lost touch with is the man on the street. What the hell does he care about green policies when he can't pay for free-trade coffee at the local convenience store? And if you've lost touch with reality, something's wrong with your message.

The end point: Fuck the hippies.

The Return

2008-11-12T04:30:00.000-05:00

I have a computer now in my own room. The wandering days are over. The worry about whatever super-flu I'd catch on the rationalist's computer have subsided a bit. Score.

The Wandering Period, Part 8: I Only Like Radicals in My Equations

2008-11-07T16:02:00.000-05:00

The tree outside of the rationalist's room looks really nice. Didn't know that Maryland could actually have foliage.

One of the overarching themes of the American psyche is its distaste for radicalism. The American War for Independence really saw no more than possibly a third of the population side with the Patriots (who were pushing for a conservative revolution). The Americans looked at the French Revolution with horror. Same with the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. So to think that Obama or any other president is going to make radical changes and somehow enforce this radicalism in ways that are so absurd that I can even imagine is preposterous and unnecessary, no matter what side of the political spectrum you claim to sit on. Seriously, if you think that is the case, take a deep breath and get someone to slap you in the face, either with a hand or a leather glove. Or two gloves, if you're into that.

It is interesting to note that Obama's ability to get the black and hispanic vote out resulted in not only him getting elected but also Proposition 8 (and other "defense of marriage" acts) passing. Just goes to show you children that you should be careful what you wish for.

Came across this article in time via Yahoo. I think its a great idea. I spent pretty much four years of high school marking time. It was pretty much like jail, except jail probably doesn't smell like ammonia and they have a health care plan. I probably would have done well enough in community college or a regular college (I got good grades in the college classes I took while in high school). Anyone who actually thinks that the four years is necessary either was probably high during their experience or just was too dumb to actually process the bullshit that the place was.

Now I get to go find my ID, which will dictate whether or not I can have a half-way decent burrito for dinner or perhaps fried rice.

The Wandering Period, Part 8: Really? You Serious?

2008-11-06T13:35:00.000-05:00

One of the silly things going on on Election Day were the cheers for the networks calling certain states for certain candidates. Vertmont, for example. I could've called that a couple of months ago. Alabama for McCain? I could've called that a year ago. Calm the fuck down.

And then we have Putin returning to the Russian presidency. Really? Wow. I did not figure that out. Oh wait, some people did...

If anyone looked at the prognostications and still were surprised that Obama won, it's like watching the Passion of the Christ and being surprised that they nailed that Jesus fellow to the cross.

The Wandering Period, Part 7: Losing Automatically Makes It Totally Cool to Be a Dick.

2008-11-05T23:37:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I wonder why the rationalist's computer is sticky. But then I stop wondering.

When some people think that the US is becoming dominated by religious fundamentalists whose dream it is to set up a fundamentalist theocracy so they can oppress and restrict rights with glee, I tend to look at it a little leery. Mostly because these fuckers can't keep their goddamned mouth shut or keep churning out material containing their beliefs which vacillate between inane and intolerant. I believe there is a vast majority with actual stuff to do during the day (i.e. actually helping people like Jesus said instead of being a dick like whatever nutjob preacher says) and are not represented by these people. Doesn't make 'em any more wrong.

Saw this post on another blog. And I was...chilled by it. As such, I figure I should perhaps react to it.

10) "Emphasize political power as the means to ending abortion in America."

He mentions the whole "legislating from the bench" malarkey that a lot of anti-abortionists spout on about. That implies they're making it all up in their black muumuus in some smoke filled room where the rub themselves with pictures of Jack Kerouac and whatever else gets their liberal motors running. Sorry dude, Supreme Court justices actually use things like, uh, LEGAL THEORY to decide cases. Roe v. Wade had basis in that US Constitution thing you hear about and also precedents established in other Supreme Court cases, more specifically Griswold v. Connecticut. You don't like their interpretation? Too bad. Wait till the next one or see if you can get your own little special case on the docket. You want to change things? Stop bitching about the justices and move for a constitutional amendment.

9) "Continue stigmatizing pregnancy out of wedlock."

Continue? Continue? When did we stop? I guess I missed the memo when I was with the Justices of the Supreme Court rubbing pictures of Jack Kerouac in their smoke filled room. Marriage is no guarantee that the kid's going to get a stable household. Having support from one's family (whatever that may be) is. And furthermore, perhaps people are fine without having to pay for the wedding license and all the other hoopla and just having a common law marriage or whatever the technical term is. It's cool that you have your own little life paradigm; but keep it to your damn self.

8) "Criticize and judge people who vote for pro-choice politicians"

I'd go on and say that this is simply being a dick, but I do it sometimes...so I'll actually say this is advocating being a dick. Being a dick is not going to endear you to these people, nor will just berating them for their choice. Otherwise, any one of the nutjobs out there who believes this stuff would be instantly swayed by my musings. Furthermore, what the hell is he talking about with the African-American churches? What the hell does the cornerstone of African American society have to do with being a dick?

7) "Continue to encourage abstinence-only sex education"

Uh...right. Worked for Sarah Palin's children. This is only going to lead to more unwanted pregnancies since Billy and Jane didn't learn about wrapping it up. They're young; they're going to try things. At least prepare them for it. Preparing them for sex is not telling them "Go screw NOW!" Not hearing about contraception isn't going to kill their desire, nor does hearing about condoms make a teenager especially horny.

6) "Support purity rings and abstinence pledges"

The "statistic" he cites is pretty self-congratulatory. They probably wouldn't have had sex (or probably had no chance to, as I don't know how appealing these 10% are) without the pledge, so he's possibly mistaking cause and effect here. And apparently he doesn't get the idea that teenagers are going to have sex. It's been going on for ages. But you can advise them to operate safely.

5) "Crank up the shock tactics."

Being a dick part 2. Yes, show people gross pictures of aborted fetuses. Then expose yourself as windbag nutjobs who get aroused by disgusted looks on people's faces. Go for it, dude.

4) "Cut welfare, social services, and other similar programs."

Being a dick part 3 and 4. So instead of targeting the women who want abortions, you're going to dick over more people. Good for you. That'll make EVERYONE want to be you and ruin people's lives. The assumption that everyone has a religious organization they can turn to for "support"/someone trying to up their congregation numbers is pretty far-fetched. Some people in this nation use their freedoms to (gasp) not choose a religion. SHOCKING.

3) "Take what you can get."

Yes, talk up any mouth-breathing politico who'll side with you on abortion and how it is very naughty, and also just ignore all of his other stances on things. Great idea.

2) "Get more people into church doors and keep doing what you're doing once they're there."

What the hell is going on in there? Do they offer funny punch? Grape flavored Flavor-Aid? Magical cookies? Next time I accidentally wander into a church service, I'm avoiding the food and bringing a water bottle. Perhaps wearing a mask over my mouth to avoid breathing the clearly laced air.

1) "Piss and moan."

Being a dick part...one billion. Yes, that'll totally work. Start telling lies and misconstruing things and eventually we'll all turn your way and start killing off abortion doctors and other godless liberals who join me and the Supreme Court justices in rubbing ourselves with pictures of Jack Kerouac.

It makes me wonder how it came from Jesus Christ advocating helping people to folks like this who make it their job to be a dick, but it's cool because it's for Jesus. I need a pocket US Constitution for myself.

The Wandering Period, Part 6: Indecision Support Systems

2008-11-04T13:49:00.000-05:00

I woke up about three hours ago and I want to go back to bed. It could possibly be the turkey sandwich. It could be the lack of coffee.

Love how there are promotions to vote here in the United States. In other nations, people brave some ridiculous conditions to finally cast a ballot. Can't take the right to vote for granted.

Oh yes. Vote.

The Wandering Period, Part 5:Misappropriation of Resources

2008-11-02T18:54:00.000-05:00

I've mused a little bit on whether or not the use of a library computer to watch things like YouTube videos, dance shoes, or the Giants beat the Cowboys 35-14 is a wise use of resources. Then again, most of my blog posts have been made on a computer connected to the network, so perhaps I shouldn't care so much. I'll leave that question up to the philosophers.

Currently I'm back on The Rationalist's computer (formerly known as The Nihilist), mostly because I'm too lazy to go to the library and mostly because there's nothing really I want to wander into on his computer. Sometimes I wonder if I should wash my hands afterward. I blame a wicked case of the flu I had a couple of years back on him. Shows that I shouldn't be picking up random used paper towels off the ground. Or inhale the air in his room.

Ha. Wow. One of the juror's in Ted Stevens' corruption case lied about seeing her dying father and instead went to a horse race in California. I don't know what that says: either Ted Stevens character is really easy to catch, or people couldn't care less about justice and nailing corrupt bastards to the wall. That or someone didn't do a good job during jury selection.

So when you're starving, the first thing you want is: A) food or B) soap, because you want to make sure your hands are clean before you eat. Clearly it's B) soap. Well, at least according to the UN. Remember, hygiene is key to survival!

And with that, I'll probably wash my hands right now to avoid catching yet another respiratory disease from the room.

The Wandering Period, Part 4: It's Not Vinegar, It's Paint-Thinner

2008-11-02T13:10:00.000-05:00

I forgot to label the previous post. I might go back and change it, I might not. I probably won't in case someone has already linked to it.

I'm currently in the library, taking various breaks in writing to make a post.

China is now claiming some Japanese goods are tainted. First thing, this is sour grapes. China's had a long history of questionable materials in their goods and is probably one of the few countries were someone urinating in the dough-mixing vat is the least of one's worries. China pointing out Japan's alleged tainting is the proverbial pointing out the splinter in someone else's eye while you ignore the log in your own. Second, the two products are soy sauce and mustard. Why is China importing soy sauce? And why the hell is China importing mustard from Japan?

Apparently the short and clever title followed by the moderately-sized subtitle was not in fashion in the nineteenth century. I just had to type out a title that was two lines of text long. Were these people paid by the word? Interesting to note that the fellow (Jared Sparks) has a pretty unremarkable nineteenth century name.

Any of you folks who think that fleeing to Europe is an option for freedom from "oppression" and "the man," sorry. France just passed a law that kicks you off the internet if you're busted a third time downloading "illegally."

My only hope is to become a courted niche political demographic, much like the people described in this Newsweek article. Talk about trying just a little too hard. I'm still waiting on the demographic of "Future historians who prefer scotch and wear hats."

When historians get bored or need to feel somewhat loved by the public, they dig this crap up. I mean, I guess it's sort of important. On the other hand, do I really need to know about Carter's ass?

On that note, back to writing about real history.

[end]

Drink More Water.

2008-10-31T13:32:00.000-04:00

So I happened upon this article on MSNBC, and I read the first paragraph. I instantly wondered what sort of damage drinking Kool-Aid did to me as a child, and how much clearer things would be had I stayed away from the powdery stuff.

I seriously did not know people still believed some of the stuff these nutjobs talk about. One of the fears they're trying to stir up fears that allowing homosexuals to become Boy Scout masters (and other rights/privileges) would put their children at risk because, as we all know, being gay means your trolling for little boys. Apparently someone forgot to read the memorandum that pedophiles are the ones you have to worry about, not homosexuals.

The Christian right, if this is the message that they want to push, should probably be reconsidered as a legit voice in politics.

The Wandering Age, Part 2: The Nihilist's Computer

2008-10-30T16:10:00.000-04:00

The Rationalist (editor's note: formerly known as the Nihilist, but with the same URL) has graciously let me borrow his computer. For someone who has a fairly nice window view of a tree (which hide the cars in the parking lot and the dumpster rather well), he's pretty angry. Figures.

I love how every news organization is trying to find "battleground voters." First it was suburban soccer moms, then factory workers, then Hispanics. What's next? Asian computer programmers living in the Pittsburgh suburbs? This is just a microcosm of the major news organizations (especially the cable 24 hour news networks) having to fill air time with something other than the two newscasters picking their noses or explaining to their spouses that the number found in their pants pocket was just a coworker. One of the headlines on CNN right now (at approximately 16:14 or 4:14 PM on US East Coast) is about Philadelphia fans going crazy because one of their sports teams won something. That's not news; that's just stating the freaking obvious. And how many of the random people out there really need that much news? And how many people out there can actually digest it?

Love how there's an opinion article on MSNBC about how Philly fans aren't going soft. The only way those guys would remotely go soft is if they either sober up, finally pass their GED, or serve the rest of their probation.

Good news MD and VA voters. You guys are returning to paper ballots in time for 2010. Technology is not always a gift from above. If so, I wouldn't be writing these series of posts from various computers I manage to secure permission to go on/covertly log onto.

CNN has something for job cuts now at 4:48 PM on the United States East Coast. Lemme tell you something: Historians are so escaping that because you cannot escape zero. Ba-zing.

The Wandering Period, Part 1

2008-10-30T13:19:00.000-04:00

This begins a series of posts that will be written on various computers and cocktail napkins since my laptop went bust.

Right now I'm sitting in IS 425. Really thrilling. Apparently the professor hasn't figured out a screen is useful for an overhead projection of what's happening on his computer is fairly useful. He's going over SAS, which is basically some sort of version of Excel for people who stuff that requires less features, such as easily accessible data, and a somewhat more intelligible programming language. The "excitement" is "overwhelming."

Now we're in a WinQSB program called "Inventory Theory and Systems." Real thrilling, no? There's a reason there's a History Channel and no Information Systems Channel. Or at least no Decision Support Systems Channel.

Most of the software we're using looks like it was either designed by engineers or artists whose only credentials was a gen ed AA degree from community college. They make 80% of the MySpace pages out there look well-designed and "artistic." Yeesh. Talk about alluring.

Dude next to me is looking at Budweiser's Wikipedia page. There's actually a Bohemian town called Budvar which also makes a beer called...Budweiser.

Oh man..."management science." I need to play Dilbert meeting bingo one day.

Ooh...math. We're doing square roots and division. That's why we had to take Linear Algebra!

He used "management science" again. It's still...mildly amusing.

Oh finally...the exam. Something of "importance."

[End post].

Will Tell Funny Stories for Money

2008-10-19T22:58:00.000-04:00

Most people like money. And a good number of the people who say they don't like it probably have a lot of it and aren't really in a position to say that they don't like it.

I like to know that I can get out of school and make a decent living at a job somewhere doing what I love: being a historian. Unfortunately, the only reason that the market for historians isn't reactive to economic conditions is because, quite frankly, there's not a lot of room to maneuver between zero demand and minuscule demand. And yet, there's still room for "rockiness," as this article claims.

Of course, once you actually get the job, then you realize that, lo and behold, you can only celebrate by getting the more expensive ramen noodles (the ones that already come in the Styrofoam bowls, and not Cup Noodles, as those are quite obviously cups) and having the privilege to make that fifth of Kentucky Gentleman last less than a month. The chances of striking it big are fairly slim.

I've thought about this recently as I've been working on a massive class I need to graduate and also going on a few job interviews with companies that have as much need for historians as most people do for a hangnail. Being a historian is not all about doing research on cellophane for yet another episode of Modern Marvels or looking up stuff on Wikipedia for a blockbuster Hollywood movie which will undoubtedly mess it up. It's about having to look through piles of old documents and other such paraphenelia to find some piece of data that has pertinence to your topic. It's about having to read through volumes of literature written by other folks (which ranges from brilliant to misguided to mindless dreck) to get a feel for historiography. And they reward you with pay that'll make a recent college grad doing menial tasks at a tech company sneer (well, sneer more than usual).

It makes me wonder and ask myself: "Is it worth it? Is it worth it at all to go through all this trouble so I can hope to one day make $60,000?" Good question. Perhaps law school isn't so bad after all...

Things Ain't What They Used to Be

2008-10-06T03:36:00.000-04:00

I'll fess up to it: I act like an old man at times. I hope one day I could be as cool as Humphrey Bogart in the movies. I wouldn't mind being some of the guys on Mad Men, without (most) of the chauvinistic touches. I'm a fan of the old-style drinks (Tom Collins, Manhattan, scotch and water), I wear a hat when in public, and, first and foremost, I adhere to the old-style rules of chivalry (except when I'm nervous and I freak out and forget).

I'm a firm believer in chivalry. So what the Constitution was amended to give women the right to vote. I'm still holding the fucking door. Don't hold that crap about the women's lib movement and such; me holding the door for you is not objectifying you at all. It's called "a nice gesture." If you want to be a prick about it, go right ahead. Basically, it's all about treating women with the respect they deserve.

The thing that many guys who purport to be "gentlemen" forget is true chivalry has two sides. It is a double edged sword. On one side, you have the gentlemanly politeness that you have when you and whatever special lady you're with (be it a hot date or a female relative) are out and about. On the other side is the more dark and vicious side. It's the side that comes out when it's time to use that double edged sword.

The basic tenet of this side is that you do act maliciously towards anyone of the female gender that is close to you. Anyone who flagrantly disrespects women in such a manner is not deserving of any respect from anyone else. Period. Even if she's done you wrong horribly, you do not act at all maliciously. And if someone does so to someone of the female gender you care about, it'd be best for someone else (the law, Satan, a runaway MTA bus) to get to him first.

And of course, now we have "the legal system" and "processes" which take care of that. But I do long for the days when a gentleman who was confronted with the dishonor of a woman deserving of the privilege would take it into his own hands and settle it like true gentlemen.

By the way, law enforcement, this is in no way, shape, or form condoning things like vigilante justice. I'm too cultured for that sort of barbaric practice.

Bydlo

2008-10-05T17:44:00.000-04:00

Very often throughout my day I ask myself, "Why the hell am I doing this?" Sometimes I have an answer, such as "Because I'm hungry and haven't had a burrito in a few days" or "Because I can't show up to the meeting looking like some hobo who fell off of a malt liquor delivery truck." But a lot of the time, I really can't come up with an instant logical answer. And thus, the gears start to turn.

For the longest time, spite was a main driving point. I had a laundry list of people that I wanted to tell off one day and flaunt my success in front of. The mental image I had of myself going up to them and telling them how successful I would be and then flipping them off was priceless. I was willing to put myself through whatever it took to make sure I could do this. But after a certain point, I started questioning whether or not the dissatisfaction I was feeling doing what i was doing was worth the joy of spite. And after a while, I felt that it wasn't.

Now don't get me wrong; I'm going to flaunt success in front of clowns that deserve it, trust me. But I'm more driven by something else, maybe passion, maybe some overly strong instant coffee. I don't know what exactly gets me out there and doing what I do. And maybe...maybe I don't want to know.

When I Was a Young Boy

2008-09-30T23:20:00.001-04:00

Judging by most of my Facebook "friends'" statuses, there really isn't much going on other than the fact that the Ravens lost to the Steelers in OT and that the new Facebook is probably the worst travesty to happen since "new" Coke. Perhaps the biggest (and possibly most overblown) news is that the stock market has the stability of a dinghy in a stormy harbor. I'd probably feel more comfortable at a blackjack table at Atlantic City than putting my money in the market at some points.

I've always had an interest in the stock market. Every time I saw it on the television when I was younger, it looked real exciting. The floor looked like a giant crowded playground, except they were dressed much funnier and no one yelled at them for littering. They were always energetic and yelling all the time and using words that weren't broadcast over the 5:00 PM evening news. It seriously looked like great fun and I thought it'd be nice to play dress up and yell when I was younger. (Wonder what that says about me as a child...)

I remember way back in the day when it was a real possibility to make a decently easy buck during the dot-com boom of the late 1990s. It was rather alluring to me as a kid. When your life consists of having to endure the crap from your peers as a weird middle school kid, the fact that people who were just as weird as you were being able to make large amounts of money and seem cool was rather alluring. That dream always stuck with me throughout the years, even though the meteoric rise only meant a even more meteoric fall. As such, I've always watched the markets...just in case.

What If

2008-09-30T04:21:00.000-04:00

In general, people like action. Sitting on your ass agonizing isn't usually the most amazing thing in the world, unless your name is Hamlet and your job (given to you by a ghost) is to kill your father. Other than that, it's nothing to write home about.

As such, it is often said that it's better to take a chance than to not know at all. Whenever people are tepid about making some slightly risky decision, others are all about taking the chance. "Come on," they say. "If you don't do [action x], you'll never know. And do you want to go through life not knowing what it would've been like?"

Now this only really works if you're not a fucking moron. Anyone who's played chess semi-seriously realizes that just because you can do something doesn't mean it's the brightest idea in the world. But again, that intuition pops up if you are not a freaking moron and can reasonably predict the maelstrom that picks up when you want to move your queen to f7.

Life is a bit more fickle. The number of variables is fucking mind-boggling. As such, people are either moved to inaction or acting blindly/at the wrong time. Next thing you know, you're left holding the pieces as you wonder what the hell went wrong.

So perhaps you should do this: Instead of asking yourself "What if I don't do this?" ask yourself, very seriously and with great import, "What if I do do this and it hits the fan?" It's really not worth messing up your current life for the prospect of something that can utterly and ragingly fail and leave you in the dust.

That is, of course, unless your life is totally horrid enough that it doesn't really matter. That case, just go bonkers.

Miss Misery

2008-09-25T03:14:00.000-04:00

Schadenfreude. Depending on who you ask, it's probably one of the more twisted things you could feel. It is the joy that one derives from someone's misery.

For the most part, I really think it's more or less really messed up to derive some sort of joy from someone's misfortune. As someone who's been misdealt a few hands, it sucks. I really can't see how anyone can see someone's misfortune and find glee in it. It goes beyond lack of empathy; instead of feeling nothing from someone's troubles, you feel joy. It's mind-boggling.

There is an exception. I'm starting to find out that if someone did me wrong, I'll find the greatest glee in their misery. And I've found some joy in some really sick stuff. While it's almost alarming, I feel like it's some sort of karmic justice. Don't do other people wrong and you won't get wronged.

It does make wonder what sort of a dick I was sometimes though...

Say What?

2008-09-18T06:14:00.000-04:00

Weird occurrence: giving up a vice simply because it does not give you joy anymore. It's weird/slightly amazing. New direction in life which is more positive and promising? Don't hold you breath.

Old Photograph

2008-09-15T08:47:00.000-04:00

There is a song that I've been getting into recently written by Eric Bogle called "No Man's Land (Green Fields of France)." The story behind it is that a passerby at a World War I graveyard takes some time to rest next to the grave of a young soldier named Willie McBride. The passerby then wonders about Willie and how he died in combat and how he is remembered.

One of the more personal poignant stanzas of the song is the second verse. It is as follows:

"And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?"

I've always been touched by this part for some reason. It makes me wonder what sort of impact I have on people and how will I be remembered. Will there be people who actually remember who I am? Or am I some passing stranger that can easily be forgotten?

That thought is quite troubling at times, when you realize that you can be a non-entity to someone just as quickly as you can become something to someone. All sort of interpersonal relationships are nothing but air and thoughts. There's no tangibility or anything physically connecting you to anyone else. One day, something may change and it'll all be gone and nothing will have changed except in your mind, where the connection lived the entire time.

It's this that admittedly makes me tread the line as carefully as best I can in what I say or do, despite my best efforts to sabotage myself. But you can only do so much. Beyond that, it's up to the other people involved to dictate whether the bonds will hold and whether you'll be a memory or a photograph.

Mediocrity as Superiority

2008-09-12T15:02:00.001-04:00

For most of your childhood life, you realize that sticking your head above the crowd puts a target on you. Life sucks if you show some modicum of brilliance or talent outside of athletics or playing shitty ass screamo music/Dave Matthews covers.

It doesn't improve much when you get out, despite those adults that try to sell you that malarkey to make you feel better 'cause some meathead in an Incubus t-shirt decided to clock you against a locker. What those adults sell you is not true. If you aren't the typical whatever fucking categories are out there, you might as well brace yourself for the whirlwind with a handle of whiskey and a bottle of pills, 'cause you're going to need it.

Being an average person has such a great appeal for me. With the exception of having athletic talent or the ability to churn out crappy records that 15 year old guys who stay out till 11 PM hanging out in front of the 7-11 wearing tight jeans will buy, the large majority of people don't have pertinent talents. And having that talent that seven people will care about in your immediate area -- is that worth the scars of a rough life as a rogue wandering from place to place never fitting in? It's a question that I've wrestled with often, and the answer is often times no.

There is nothing I would give more than to live normally like everyone else. I hate having to scuffle through some of the crap I have to do to try to somehow acquire skills that should've already been there or that I should've learned 10 years prior. Sure, I have some "gift" or whatever, but who the hell is really going to care other than people who have gifts that other people don't care about either? And if that's the case, then why should I have to deal with other baggage that comes with it?

Selective Memory

2008-09-09T02:26:00.000-04:00

It's weird how memory works. For example, I can forget that I have to do my accounting homework or I already purchased a macroeconomics textbook -- both things I should be remembering. But the things I should forget don't seem to leave my memory.

Which is really damn irritating. It's hard to function in society as a competent human being when you can't stop thinking about inane ass garbage going through every other thought. When you realize that you spent the entirety of your accounting lecture thinking about random stupid things instead of taking notes on what makes a liability, it's probably high time that you start forgetting those random things (or to drop the accounting class).

I mean, I've tried to forget. I've tried to forget and numb myself (something that this guy can vouch for). But it's only a temporary reprieve before the mental naysayers and demons start creeping back in and whisper in your mind. And that just leads to another temporary reprieve.

It'd be great to actually just snap your fingers and just erase a few things from your memory. Of course, that could be easily abused. But it'd be nice, just this once.

And You Just Remember...

2008-08-27T08:43:00.000-04:00

"And you just remember that your old man walked Ben Wade to that station when nobody else would." -- Dan Evans, 3:10 to Yuma (2007)

Failure in the end might happen, but if you gave it your all, then there's nothing you should worry about.

Please Stop Now

2008-08-09T10:19:00.000-04:00

There are some people who just refuse to give up. Kansas City Royals fans, for one. They somehow persist in believing in the impossible will happen.

And then we have Gavin Menzies. A while back, he wrote 1421: The Year China Discovered America. While it was a nice idea, it is nevertheless a tenuous idea at worst with many holes and historical questions that could be raised. There was even a television special where he showcased his ideas and had those very ideas challenged at the end of the program.

Now we have Mr. Menzies talking how in 1434 the Chinese rolled up to Venice and "sparked the Renaissance" in Europe. The first book was nice and made people think for a bit and it also allowed us to play fantasy for a bit. But now? Now it's pushing it. Ridiculously hard. To have someone call your work "historical fiction" isn't exactly an endearing term in the field of history.

But this is the challenge of history. You don't have to have a "license" to practice it for the most part and you can't have your license revoked for being a loudmouthed dumbass. Anyone who can convince a publisher to put out their nonsense can get their half-baked ideas out there into the public where sometimes less than rigorous standards are applied. With the internet, the possibility for people to either make outlandish claims or manipulate history for their own personal agendas is much easier.

Chips in the Pot

2008-08-02T02:59:00.000-04:00

The film Rounders is about more than just cards. There's a lot to be learned from that movie other than interesting slang terms about bottom dealing jackasses. One of the morals I took out of the film is that you shouldn't bind yourself to something just because someone else says you should do it.

One of the lines in the film uttered by the main character is "You can't lose what you put in the middle...but you can't win much either." It's an interesting concept when put in the framework of life in general. Emotional investment in life is like the ridiculous raise you make when you're drawing for the straight and the flush on the river: you stand to win or lose big.

It's one of the questions I have about life: Is it worth it to make that big bet only to see that your draw didn't pan out or to sit around and let the blinds whittle you down to the felt?

Losing bites, no doubt. But winning is equally as enjoying. And it really comes down to whether or not you want to accept the fact that you'll lose. A lot of the time I ask myself that question, knowing that losing is painful. And you know what? The answer is yes a good number of the time.

Yes, the losing is going to bite hard. Yes, I might disappear for a day or so to "get things straightened out." But it's the allure of finally hitting that outside draw on the river that makes it all worth it. (Note: this is not how I play cards.) If I lose big, at least I'm comforted by a life lesson and the fact that I'm sitting pretty on a large repository of chips.

Sometimes I do wonder if I should just remain uninvolved. It's a real temptation. I'd rather as much just not feel a damn thing in my life. At times in my life, I fantasize about just being a complete robot and avoid the trouble of emotions. It would save me the experience of negative feelings. But I'd never get to feel the joy of finally pulling it off and winning. And if you're going to just sit at the table and not take a risk, you'd be better off putting your money in a savings account in your local bank. Life isn't about watching other people live lives; it's about going out there and doing it for yourself.

While the trials and tribulations of life are sometimes more than a person can handle, it's part of being alive and human. Sure, you'd be able to sit at the table for a long time just getting blinded into oblivion, but is it really all that fun?

Can't Find My Way Home

2008-07-31T21:45:00.000-04:00

I wonder what would happen if I just gave up some of my vices? Is there anything to return to at all? Or have they just become such a part of me that taking them away will basically leave me with nothing? Really scary thought.

Truth, Bias, and the American Way

2008-07-29T09:34:00.000-04:00

As some of you folks out there may well know, justice is never blind to anything. But sometimes, perhaps it should be wearing the blindfold just a little more often.

There is a brouhaha in the Justice Department regarding hiring practices. Much of it started earlier this month when various suits were filed by rejected applicants who suspect that they were not hired due to their past work with Democrats or fields such as environmental or social justice.

This is an issue which clearly does not fall under the umbrella of "borderline radical." The Justice Department was attempting to enforce a partisan hiring practice instead of a meritocratic one and made certain lifestyles preferential (i.e. conservative Christian). The government has no right to do this.

What irks me even more is the potential for the government to get away with these shenanigans. Does this mean I have to shift my leanings to conform with the current regime in place? Or even the fellow reviewing my resumes? Do I have to worry about whether or not some sort of deep seated unfounded belief about certain agencies may affect my hiring? These things should not play a part in government or any sort of hiring practices.

I Bother Because...?

2008-07-19T03:43:00.000-04:00

So for those of you expecting a witty commentary on news...check back in a few. I might feel compelled to discuss something of global note.

(You might want to direct your elementary schooler away from this. Just saying.)

I'm writing this as the mixture of espresso and Bailey's is eating away at my stomach lining, a sort of physical manifestation of my mental state.

Or perhaps not. A sense of pain as a result of a decay would indicate some sort of heed being paid. But in reality, instead of being an agony, it's just a sense of general apathy. It still bothers me, but I'm not going to remedy it. I could go get something to eat to provide some sort of barrier between that devil liquid, but on the other hand I could just adopt a "wait-and-accept" attitude.

There a lot of things that are less than amusing about where I'm taking myself. I'm staring at a career path which is necessary yet less than glamorous, I can barely maintain a semi-meaningful conversation with most of the human populous, and I spend a large portion of my public social interactions in a state resembling a partial panic attack. Hell, sometimes I'm too fucking lazy to maintain my vices. Now how wrong is that? You ever hear an alcoholic just say, "Eh...fuck it. I don't feel like making the effort to score a bottle of cheap scotch. I'll just ride it out with some fruit juice."?

I suppose the apathy has some sort of benefit, such as getting rid of those aforementioned vices that are so damned hard to maintain (cigarette smokers make that shit look real easy -- trust me, maintaining a vice is hard fucking work). But when I'm trying to make sure I don't sound like an ass when chatting up a pretty girl or finding a way to not slam back a scotch before a social encounter it's not helpful.

I don't know if it's that I'm just lazy or if I'm just tired of it all. It's probably a combination of both. I've gotten tired of "improving" and seeing it not work, and so I just give up with the (perhaps) misguided notion that anything that I try to do to better myself is solely to make myself sleep easier and without the help of a double shot of rum on the rocks.

It's an ongoing battle to keep myself motivated a lot of the time to keep trying. "It's a learning experience," a lot of people say to me. Heck, I tell myself that. But dammit, I'm tired of fucking learning. When's the lesson over? And why is my lesson taking so damn long? Great, I just moved forward a couple of feet in a mile long journey while the rest of the travelers can spit a watermelon seed across the finish line. Why should I even bother?

But then, after I calm myself and bring down the overdrive, I realize that I'd rather be a couple of feet on my way than only one foot. Or maybe I just don't care enough to try to finish the mile long journey.

"Nah, you'll do fine in battle with this plastic butter knife and a couple of blow darts."

2008-07-17T04:13:00.000-04:00

In an effort to possibly pander to the lumbering dictatorial and economic juggernaut known as the PRC, the US has decided to freeze the sale of weapons to the ROC.

Now I do understand that the US has a presence in the Taiwan Strait. But there is no real obligation for the US to be there. Looking at how things are going in certain parts of the world, the US isn't always going to be there. So if the US is really committed to defending the ROC, it should continue sales.

Unfortunately, the US has to utilize China to take care of problems that the US on its own cannot (or perhaps will not) solve. This was the same motivation that drove recognition during the later stages of the Vietnam War under Nixon.

It is unclear how long the US can dilly-dally on this issue. Even though cross-strait relations are improving, it is a matter of time when the saber-rattling gets more serious.

Update on UMBC's ROTC Bid

2008-05-29T14:58:00.000-04:00

For those of you who read this thing while you're waiting for your movie to download from torrents, you may remember my earlier post on UMBC potentially receiving an Army ROTC post. Well, the powers that be at UMBC have made the decision to start the process of applying for an Army ROTC post.

This is a move forward in the correct direction. UMBC, if it is to be taken seriously as a school known for diversity, should be granted such an institution. Allowing for more ROTC candidates to go to UMBC will only add to diversity, not subtract from it. The claims made by those who are against ROTC are inherently discriminatory on their own.

Welcome to UMBC, Army ROTC.

Panic on Academic Row

2008-05-12T16:33:00.000-04:00

There is a lot of controversy at UMBC at the moment regarding the placement of an Army ROTC (Reserve Officers Training Corps) contingent in the school. There is some major resistance to the program, as show by an online petition against it. However, there is also a sizable group of people who are for (or perhaps not opposed) to ROTC being present on campus, as show by a group on Facebook.

The hoopla surrounding it is based on the fact that there is discrimination of homosexuals in the military and UMBC is supposedly a "homosexual friendly" environment. And while I support the campaign to grant homosexuals the marital and legal rights that I enjoy, perhaps this has come a bit too far.

As it stands, anyone at UMBC who wants to participate in an ROTC program has to go to Maryland - College Park (for the Air Force ROTC) or Johns Hopkins University (for the rest, I believe). This is a ridiculous inconvenience. If UMBC is to be considered a "diverse" college in any stretch of the manner, then it should tolerate a department on campus for ROTC. And while they can put certain restrictions on it to keep everyone fearing a militarization of the campus at ease, the option should be available. In addition, having ROTC on campus could open up many more options for education on UMBC.

The most important thing here is that no one is forcing anyone to join the military by having ROTC on campus. But it at leasts gives a wider option for those who do.

Sharing is Caring

2008-05-11T17:39:00.000-04:00

Seven years after the September 11, 2001 attacks on the United States, the people in government still haven't figured out that they're working on the same side yet. In the latest issue of Newsweek, there is an article detailing a Pentagon back-door contact with some Iranians without those CIA folks knowing.

Parents, you might want to direct the children away from the next line.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

Good lord, has anyone read any part of the 9/11 commission? Have they tried reading any of the literature about the failures of the intelligence community in the years prior? You know what happened? PEOPLE DIDN'T SHARE. Apparently the folks in government were absent that day in pre-school. If the United States is to use the intelligence it gets to its fullest extent, it needs everyone it needs on the same page to insure that nothing fishy gets too far.

Let's take the example cited in the Newsweek article. One of the two fellows who brokered the meeting (both of whom are Iran-Contra people, if you wanted to know), Manucher Ghorbanifar, has been classified by the CIA as someone who has a history of unreliability. Now you think the Pentagon would've gone to that guy had they known that? Do we want another Curveball to screw the United States again? Until the people in government start playing with each other and sharing with each other, the United States is susceptible to another con-man.

Taking It Too Far

2008-05-05T16:32:00.000-04:00

It's cool to be proud of the stuff you enjoy. For example, you can have pictures of you and that massive fish that you caught that one weekend in the Catskills posted on your cubicle wall. You can wear an Aqua Teen Hunger Force t-shirt. You can wear your Rutgers Scarlet Knights sweatshirt.

There's a point where you take it too far. Like, for example, dressing up like the Scarlet Knight randomly during the day and wearing it to work. That's not right. Or those creepy [censored for the family audience] at Otakon, probably the only thing that can increase the likelihood of me avoiding Baltimore.

And there's this woman, who apparently is a Yankees Fan and allegedly ran over a Red Sox fan with her car. Now I'm a big Yankees fan and I have really thought about fun things to do to Red Sox fans (my current favorite is boiling them in either beans or white clam chowder), but there's a line that has to be drawn. I'm not about to break the law and kill someone because he/she is a Red Sox fan. I might make an exception for Phillies or Orioles fans, though.

At least she wasn't dressed like Derek Jeter when she ran the guy over.

White Christmas

2008-04-30T12:33:00.000-04:00

Today marks the 33rd anniversary of the Fall of Saigon to the North Vietnamese. It was one of the tragic milestones in a conflict which had its roots in the years following the Second World War and that still has lingering sentiments today.

The image that you see to the left is probably one of the most iconic images of the Vietnam War. There were scores of Vietnamese with ties to the Americans in South Vietnam, many who were actually CIA agents. That iconic photo of a CIA officer (whose name escapes me at the moment, but his name is declassified if I am not mistaken) assisting Vietnamese into an Air America helicopter (CIA cover airline) was taken not at the embassy but at a apartment complex nearby.

Reading the book Decent Interval by former CIA analyst Frank Snepp, who was present in Saigon at the time, painted a disturbing picture of what it was like there at that time. It was a chilling reminder that there is always a human cost in the actions of nations, and sometimes that cost doesn't always have to be paid.

So why is this important? While this is a tired, old analogy, take a look at Iraq. The United States has to eventually leave sometime, but if and when it does, there is a risk of instability. People who are in danger due to their assistance to the United States should be evacuated for their own safety, well ahead of the final date of withdrawal, to avoid another Saigon incident. Withdrawal methods, the few that do exist out there, often do not discuss this. If the United States is not to be cheated at the market of human costs, then it should remember 30 Apr 1975 and plan ahead.

ANZAC Day

2008-04-25T17:24:00.000-04:00

ANZAC Day is the Australian and New Zealand version of our Veterans Day and Memorial Day (and maybe a bit of an Independence Day tossed in there). It commemorates service of men and women in the armed forces of both nations and is celebrated on 25 Apr each year to commemorate the landing of the first ANZAC troops at the Battle of Gallipoli. It is often considered the day when Australia and New Zealand proved itself to Great Britain and therefore is considered a day of national pride.

So go celebrate the ANZACs and their sacrifices. A nation will understand.

Pirating is Not Cool, Dickwad.

2008-04-24T00:29:00.000-04:00

When we think of pirates, we think of those quaint folks talking about scurvy, rum, and whether or not eyeliner is appropriate for pirates. We also think that piracy of that sort died out when they did. Surprisingly enough, this isn't the case. Pirates were a serious enough problem in 1930s China that foreigners (British and Americans) were recruited to help fight the menace.

And now we have the modern day piracy problem that exists on the East African coast. The area has historically been a major area of nautical trade, and where there's trade of any sort you have people looking to nab it. The problem has grown increasingly rampant as Somalia has yet again devolved into a state more chaotic than parties hosted by these guys. Now the US and France are pushing for a UN resolution that would allow nations to chase after pirates into national waters.

Hold on. So you have to ask to take something of yours back from people that stole it from you by force. What the hell? Is this really necessary?

What should happen? What happened in 1801-1805 and in 1815: the Barbary Wars. Sure, there really wasn't a structure of international mediation in place, but why should that be necessary when punk-ass rogues and thieves start messing around with your merchant ships and disrupting your commerce? The US should replicate the basic lambasting of the Barbary pirates in the early nineteenth century today with respect to these Somali warlords who sponsor this type of thing: seek out who they are and destroy them with the mercy shown to an ant stepped on by a five year old.

The Forgotten Heroes of a Forgotten War

2008-04-22T00:57:00.000-04:00

As some of you know out there, I've been working on an independent study on the First World War in Africa and Asia. Besides the fact that I may or may not be insane, you might be wondering why I would pursue such an seemingly esoteric topic.

The answer is simply that someone needs to do so. When you picture the First World War, the first thought that pops into your mind are the trenches at Verdun or the Somme and the flights of the Red Baron (and Snoopy, of course). Yet it is called World War I and not "The War Fought in Europe and Europe Only." (There was also fighting in Eastern Europe, by the way.) My goal is to make sure that people understand that there were equally large sacrifices made by people worldwide in conditions equally or even more insufferable than those in the trenches of France.

If you want to get a sense of my motivations, listen to one of the incarnations of "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda." My preference is for the version the Pogues did on their album Rum, Sodomy, and The Lash for its raw power. While there's the regular "war is a tragedy" message that comes with it, there's also the message of "honor your veterans and never forget their sacrifice." The people that I have researched as a part of the independent study do not deserve to be relegated to a sentence in a dusty tome for their sacrifices.

Laying Lows

2007-12-14T16:38:00.000-05:00

After the heat came onto my previous blog, I figured I'd hide out here for a bit. Never knew that after insulting world governments and other institutions that making fun of a website would generate so much press. Oh well.

Enjoy the new start.