Essentially99I could go super sonic
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Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: Queens
Birthday: 6/3/1980
Gender: Male


Interests: Paintball
Expertise: Your mom
Occupation: Administrative
Industry: Nonprofit


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Member Since: 6/28/2002

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Asians who suck at math
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What Are You, Some Kinda Fuckin Moron??
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i am a fucking ninja .
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Thursday, July 17, 2008

Big Dinner / Can't sleep

 

its well after bedtime and my brain is active. and so is my stomach. too much garlic. bad idea. sweaty. its hot. i wish it wasn't so. it could be worse i suppose.

no smart thoughts abound.

pee and then sleep.


Monday, July 14, 2008

no more  ^*&^*&%^&$%%$#%#@%#@^%)(* volunteer fieldwork........................EVER!!!!!


Thursday, July 10, 2008

(Troubling) Cultural Cross Dressing

 

I was watching a movie about a chinese turn of the century historic figure (played by Jet Li) who started a martial arts academy now famous and franchised all over the world. I forget his name and his kung fu franchaise. The movie depicted him as a gangsteresque kung fu master turned compassionate national hero who battled many foreign prize fighters to reclaim China's national pride. I was reminded of Malcom X for some reason. Jingoistic storyline aside I noticed something almost as troubling as Michael Jackson's fashion sense. Jet Li's storyline friend was an intellectual, nationalistic instigator and businessman extraordinaire. He had a Qing Dynasty Queue, round goldrim glasses, neat straw hat, a slim western tie with mandarin collar and a blazer. Jet Li -the story hero- wore the traditional garb of course.

 

I believe our choice of clothing speaks volumes about us as individuals and as a people. The film shows all of the foreign imperialist collaborators wearing full western outfits from head to toe and of course with the ability to speak english. The nationalistic chinese intelligentia wore a mixture of the "traditional" with articles of westernism such as a top hat or a bow tie. And those simple country folks wore only one style of clothing, which presumably looks the same for generations. Thus the movie was saying that if a chinese wore only western clothing then he or she is a traitor. If he or she cross culturally cross dressed e.g. top hat with manchurian hairstyle then a forward thinking intellectual. If you're just plain old country then you're salt of the earth but you're a simpleton.

 

I noticed that historical figures such as Chiang Kai Shek, Yuan shi Kai and Sun Yatsen had everybody's wardrobe. Different strokes for different folks I guess. In some sense I respect the Arabs for consistency in dress. When they come they do so representing their identity. They don't need to emulate those who are more powerful. It seems like a lot of former colonies have difficulty in discontinuing the subjected mindset.


On the otherhand I see no reason to revert to the costumes of the past. I was watching another serial about the establishment of the Qing dynasty over the Ming Empire. It was their policy of forcing their new Han subjects into looking more Manchurian and that policy is to get a haircut and grow a pig tail or die. Different sources abound regarding the "pig tail" policy and why it was implemented. One thing is certain: the pigtail is as foreign as the top hat and bow tie.


I think everyone should wear hooded capes and kilts. There isn't any all weather all situation attire than a cape which protects you from the sun, snow, and the elements that may afflict your backside. And the kilt...i can't think of any clothing with easier access for peeing or procreation. Best of all it is unisex, simple and sensitive to our burqa wearing bretherens.


Tuesday, July 08, 2008

General Notice to My Friendsters...[you know who you are]


I am to be scrutinized by an unnamed party who I must impress in order to join their sacred club (and no this is not a fraternity). As such, some will find significant changes made all of which i assure thee are necessary.


 


Monday, July 07, 2008

Thought Interrupted...

Creativity is fragile. There are eureka moments only for it to be lost by say a phone call from the mothership telling you not to worry about something that you know you have already just handled, or something about dinner being ready, or can be ready or will be ready even though you already ate. I hate complaining about my mother because nobody else on earth is as concerned about my food intake levels or my posture as she. Yet there is something to be said about laundry militancy. You'd have to pay me close to a million dollars to do somebody else's laundry. The thought of all that goes on in one's nether regions and then the knickers that rub on them all day long is as close to revulsion as I can possibly imagine. Yet she fights me for the right to do my laundry. She comes up with mommy logic on why she ought to. And when push comes to shove those undies magically disappear and mysteriously re-apparate mountain fresh clean.  Well I told her: if doing my laundry keeps her sane then I must be a dutiful son. For her sake I shall not do my own laundry.

I suppose if that's all i have to complain about in life then I must be a lucky man.



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