Hurricane Gustav

I ran away from another hurricane today. Once again, the external world is what controls so much of the events of my life. Trying not to feel defeatist about it. But I guess I just felt sad about not completing this film.  It consumed so much of my life for the past month. I was told that it’s not healthy to obsess over one thing, but I don’t know another behavior pattern that I could follow. I hate being distracted and never completing things.

I watched Hollywood Ending last night. I really related so much to Woody Allen’s psychotic character. I have a way of being self destructive to the point where I can’t see better.
Also, my favorite thing about Woody Allen is that he really understand physical comedy. He really knows how to make situations funny just by comedic gesture that follows Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton.

Oh…what I’d do for a Charlie Chaplin film.

Artists and Tibet

I used to care about Tibet. I’ve traveled to Yunnan province and found that my facial features were most similar to theirs. Their way of life seemed superior than any offerings of the modern world. It seemed degrading that Tibetans become part of the tourism industry. The only way of preserving what they had was by inviting us to their house and serving us yak and yak butter tea. They asked us to join in on the Tibetan drinking party, a ritual of operatic singing and out singing th other. And I wanted so badly to return to my more primitive and Manchurian ways. Forget that the other one fourth of me is Chinese and the other half is Taiwanese. Just abandon all the thousands of years of domestication and return to the tribal affairs of being a descent of Mongolia. But how could I? How could I take a side when I’m the filthiest thing in this world today, a Chinese American. I live in a world power that bombs other countries and I feel that I also belong to its successor.

The recent uprising against the Chinese are stupid on both parties. Colonization and excavating lands are not only harmful to native people but it’s damaging to the precious land known as Sangra Lai. However, with the Chinese moving in, the Tibetan diet and lifestyle have greatly improved with the introduction of Chinese culture. The subject is grey without a simple right and wrong. It’s best to take the misanthropic view and find the common denominator that they’re both members of the human race. And we all know that the human race disappoints.

But what is most despicable is the rest of the world trying to put pressure on an issue they have no idea about. Colonization was the classic invention of Europe, so it’s hypocritical to point the finger. And what’s worse is the idea of freedom and who deserves it. We believe that if we live in a democratic process that we are free. Americans, the EU, amazonian tribal men, we’re slaves to systems whether we want to believe it or not. That’s the price of society. Freedom is not something we earned, rather, it’s an infectious idea. Something we’re all immune to.

But why do artists or people that have a slightly liberal outlook have to choose the automatic side? Is it due to Tibet’s exoticism? Is it because freedom and independence are so important to the rhetoric that we fight blindly? How is this any different than the excuse of Iraq…fighting for people’s democracy? Stop it! Just fight for your own independence, live your own life, because most of you don’t in the first place.

As my uncle protested in Tiannamen Square with other college students. Bloodshed didn’t change China, it was the free market.

Fine Lines

As time becomes more condensed, the fine lines begin to emerge. And these fine lines are so infinitely small that they are often overlooked, that is until they appear on aging faces and on tax rebates.

There are some infamous fine lines that keep the human race to continue to inhabit. What is the fine line of intelligence, the fine line of human versus monkeys, and the fine line of life and death?

And we seem to bargain our way around them, hoping we never cross them. But what is so distinguishing of those and why can’t we overlook them as we have done to others?

Death is an unknown state of being. No one has ever been able to give an account for it, yet we place our greatest fear upon it. What has made life such a quintessential mark of existence?

Survival is hard. That is for sure.

Language and Sounds

Sounds are really important in a language. The more people use of a certain speech pattern the more a person is adjusted in that tonality. People recognize mostly their own language and their brain finds others to be white noise and something to be ignored. Could it be that the sound of one’s own language is their specific identity? As if speaking was a tuning fork?

These are some of my favorite sound languages that I could listen as music.

Arabic, Gallic, Sudanese, Russian, the British accent, Colombian Spanish, the click language, Kenyan

These sounds I could do without.

Cantonese, Vietnamese, French (I know people will hate me for that, but it sounds like everyone is spitting out their words), American accents, Australian accents

These are the languages that interest me the most in structure, vocabulary, and origin.

Chinese, Arabic, French, Irish (examples of their literature), and American English because it’s constantly evolving.

What was my purpose?

oui oui oui….I was supposed to bridge the gap between reality and symbolism. Or supposed to come to terms with language and find a higher quality of communication. I’m working on it.

“And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.”

-William Shakespeare

Domestication

The elephant flicks at the canvas with paintbrush in snout. It is learning to draw other elephants with the aid of farmhands. And the technique is good, it’s even innovative. It’s all part of domestication, if you do what people want from you, they’ll give you a reward.

That’s how I feel about relationships. I’m the feral animal that distrusts and is suspicious of human activity. Being in love, is a flux of oxytocin and dopamine, and they will reach equilibrium soon. But it’s been a year, since those feelings have hit rock bottom and yet I still can’t stop from feeling lonely. Even after all the sex and relationships I’ve been in, only one person remains in my mind to still hold that place of desire. Sorely, I hate to admit that I was domesticated and I miss being so.

There is a pond nearby, and the turtles swim up to greet me. The baby turtles are most curious of all and they swim dangerously close to me. There was a time when i felt so lonely and judged, and that for someone who never gave a shit was falling apart, it was those turtles that offered the most comfort. It’s just that nature is not judgmental and there are no opinions to receive.

And I drove back home passing the empty gas station with only the shell remaining-the sign read $1.79 per gallon. You can count the age of that place by the price like someone counting the rings of a tree.

Economic Ecology

Ecology is the economy of organisms and the allocation of resources. Chew on that for a while.

In the meantime, plant some peppermint flowers, sagebrush, and other flowers that attract bees. You’ll get 2 points by the personal gratification merit police. Why help bees? Because they contribute to an 8 billion dollar industry for flowering foods. Also, they’re altruistic and they can teach us a thing or two.

Ok off my soapbox.

Dream

I’ve finally moved away from serial killer nightmares to just oddities. Last night I dreamt that giant turquoise crabs glowed as they struggled in a web of their own spinning. Each movement had a prismatic effect, however alluring they were grotesque. These jeweled crustaceans were larger than my head and hanging over me.

Gonzo

Inspiration is such a stroke of luck and readily extinguished. Perhaps Ponce de Leon’s search for immortality was to find some everlasting fountain that would spring forth endless illumination. For some reason, Hunter S. Thompson is that spark of unreasonable inspiration to me. What’s ironic is the new wave of intellectuals immortalize him for his cynicism and self destructive behaviors. They find self indulgence to be the new romanticism. Yet I think the genius of Gonzo journalism is that it was brave and somewhat naive to the shattering American dream. And those that glorify him now are the jaded, dull eyed members of society that believe that criticism is the only way of living a life righteously. The sexiness of a girl can be measured by the number of wrinkles over her eyes and the weight of her eye bags. Her tits have dropped from birth control and her pussy is dry from reluctance. How have we become so exhausted as a society? Have we mined all our hopes and dreams and found nothing but caverns of empty thoughts?

I haven’t memorized every line of Hunter S. Thompson but doesn’t anyone see how truly inspired he was? He really felt that a couple of words could really influence an evolution of people. Sometimes I wish for him to have waited to kill himself just to see Barak Obama.

I had a whole list of things I was going to say, but I’ll revise this later.