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.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Dear Future Me
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.
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."
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."
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Punk Rock Improves Lives
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Chopin et Moi (Chopin i Ja)
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
It's a Freaking Secret
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.
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?
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...
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.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Awkward Mirror
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Don't Ask and Don't Care
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.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Riddle Me This
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.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The People's Historian
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.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Holiday
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.
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.
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