WHY IS MY CLOCK WRONG

so i woke up today at 10:30am and said to myself, wow i am a lazy ass. i did nothing yesterday, yet i woke up today exhausted and already kind of annoyed. i would blame it on the gray weather but that would be conceding to a psychological weakness, and i am not weak in any area of life.

but when i got to my computer, the clock definitely said 9:30. did i add an hour to the clock while i was sleeping? have i been waking up an hour early for several weeks and not just not noticing it? all of these were possibilities. that is, until i went on fb and someone mentioned daylight savings. and it got me thinking.

maybe this "fall back" thing will help me out of my so-called weather-induced depression. after all, (a) i get an extra hour of sleep and (b) it is nice and sunny by the time i wake up. or here's another theory. maybe, like bears, humans need to go in something of a hibernation. mmm no. this is already a stupid theory because tons of people live in places where there are no seasons.

but to suspend logic and reason for a moment, let's say humans need to go into something of a hibernation. in places with four seasons, winter comes and slows life down. it enforces a certain rhythm on ppl's lives. there's a time and season for everything, says the bible and the byrds. what if you live in a place where, say, there is no snow. maybe a little rain, but you can still walk around in a tshirt and go about your life in a regular fashion. there's no rhythm to your life - it's just a constant pace 365 days a year. that makes life boring, repetitive and depressing. it's like eating your favorite food every day. it's great for a while but then you just crave all that crappy food like wendy's and chocolate bars and stuff. when you get a freezing winter forced on you, life slows down and you go inside with ur friends and family. and when the spring comes, there's euphoria like none other - outdoor football comes to mind. man that is awesome.

also, living in a city with four seasons also makes everyone go through some bothersome experiences, like scraping ice off your car, shoveling snow and walking through freezing weather. i guess nobody really likes those things, but doesn't the saying go, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger? i mean there must be some kind of truth in that. so multiply that tiny growth in character across millions of people that reside in a snowy city, and you've got a significant increase in high-quality people when you compare it to a place with blue skies and no worries.

aside - goddamn that damned phrased, "no worries." i dunno it just rubs me the wrong way. like if someone says thanks, and you say no worries, it's like.... yeah, it's no problem because i'm such a chill dude, and i don't really mind doing whatever it is you asked me to do. when i was in argentina and in a restaurant or something, if i said "thank you" to the waiter he would say "oh, please no, no." not like, "no it's nothing, don't worry about it." it's like, "no, no you don't need to thank me, it was my pleasure."

and here's the annoying thing about no winter. when people don't have anything to complain about, they conjure up some trivial cause to rally behind because... well, people are inevitable complainers. consider prop 2, here in california. it's something about how chickens and pigs should have some leg room in their cages. without reading up anything about it, i thought to myself - this is so stupid. of all the problems in the world, there's a group of people that would get this measure on the ballot? really? to defend the rights of chickens and pigs?

another aside: prop 2 is stupid on other levels. by forcing california farmers to pimp out their animals' houses, they'll be incurring a 20% increase in production costs. it's a fixed cost, so once they replace all their cages, they'll be back to operating normally - but they estimate 5 years for a complete overhaul. so in that time, people will buy cheaper, out-of-state eggs and pork, where they don't have these high cost standards. and when people walk into safeway, they don't really care to know where their eggs come from. they just buy the cheapest eggs. so for 5 years, california poultry farmers will get no profit, except from the 20 people that support prop 2 and are not vegetarians. these farmers will probably just move to some other product, and californians will be supporting out-of-state farmers with their cramped cages and in... inhumane? inanimal? conditions.

back to the original point. people rally behind these pointless or misinformed causes because there's nothing else to complain about. i think the word i'm looking for here is perspective. it's hard for people to have a realistic perspective of what's important and what you actually need when there are no pressing needs in your life. the only people that i can have normal conversations with are the ones that aren't from california. we talk about anything and everything, and the value of our conversation isn't in the words but the conversation. so it's not a matter of being offensive or saying something that's not politically correct. if i mention a negative opinion about someone to a californian, they give me this incredulous look because, isn't life supposed to be about warm fuzzy love? can't we unite under the cause to save our precious mother earth or fight for gay rights? no, and i don't like people who think we can.

well maybe it's because i've never been much a joiner to begin with. i'm much more interested in just being normal and interacting with normal folk. and when i say normal, i guess i'll invoke steinbeck when he describes america - complicated, paradoxical, bullheaded, shy, cruel, boisterous, unspeakably dear, and very beautiful. it's normal to be ugly and beautiful, to be full of insecurities and strengths. californians have reduced themselves to causes and niceties, and have foregone their beautiful complexity.

p.s. please do not comment saying i sound angry. i know that!

*******

anyway i made a new depressing mix:

We All, Us Three Will Ride - Palace Music
Ohio - Damien Jurado
Orphan Girl - Gillian Welch
Even While You're Sleeping - The Acorn
Albina - Horse Feathers
The Way I Am - Bonnie "Prince" Billy
Insomnia Song - Pajo
Last Rights - Damien Jurado
Bad Dream/Hartford's Beat Suite - Magik Markers

orange jubilee pt 2

about two people in the world already know what this entry is going to be about... and they're 2 of the 5 people who read my blog.

let's take a trip back to 1993. or was it 92. i don't remember. the point is, it was a long time ago when i was a little kid..... i went to my friend's birthday party at some giant field in the country. we played capture the flag, which was the greatest game ever, and threw water balloons around and generally had an amazing time.

it was mid afternoon when we got our party favors and began to head out to our parents' cars to go home. but a few of us wanted to keep the good times rollin. luckily for us, the yearly orange jubilee festival was kicking off that night, and that was a guaranteed good time. the orange jubilee was like the state fair - complete with rides, rigged games, elephant ears and weird carneys - except in our high school parking lot. during the day, they had live bands play (aside: my debut band in high school, every girl's dream, played at the orange jubilee) and "pie the teacher" charity events. at night, everyone packed into the football stadium for a brilliant fireworks display, followed by the inevitable precipitation of ashy, post-firework carcinogens.

i'm kind of beating around the bush cuz i'm leading up to an embarrassing moment. so as we were leaving the birthday party, i suggested to a few of my "friends" that we should meet up at the orange jubilee later that night. they agreed to meet me by the entrance at 6pm. when i got home, i nonchalantly told my family my plans, cuz hey, i'm a hip 10 year old with places to be. yes, i can eat 5 hot dogs, cook em up. anyway, i told my mom to drop me off at the high school at 6, and that i'd call her to get picked up.

another aside... i don't remember saying i'd call her to pick me up, and back then we didn't have cell phones. i have no idea how we coordinated things like that... yea.

so i got to the entrance, but it's a pretty big entrance... and actually there were several entrances to the jubilee, so that was pretty dumb of me to say i'd meet my friends there.... i mean, how was i gonna find them? i walked by the elephant ears stand, over to the parking lot entrance. nope, no one there. i meandered past the spider ride, trying to look like i knew what i was doing, but i probably looked like a lost little boy that had no friends... because that's kind of what i was.

by the time i got back to the high school entrance, the truth set in and i realized that my friends weren't showing up. my mom had just left 15 minutes earlier so i didn't want to call her just yet to come get me. but at the same time, what kind of loser hands out at the orange jubilee by himself? i ended up running into a few people i knew. "oh yeah, i'm on my way to meet seth," i think i said. i should have just swallowed my pride and hung out with them, but for those of u too old to remember, your rep meant a lot back then. welllll ok maybe not so much in 3rd grade, but it just wasn't cool to hang out by yourself. not to mention, i just got totally ditched. let's not forget that part of the story. [edit: i left like 10 minutes later. no fireworks for me.]

so fast forward 14 years to this moment. replace "birthday party" with a really long meeting with my major professor and a few hours in the computer lab getting nowhere with my data. change out "orange jubilee" with an already postponed but promising outing with a new friend. and replace "running into a few people i knew" to chatting with people online and updating my once-defunct blog.

hm. the parallels don't stop:

fireworks and then cancer --> getting trashed with a pretty girl and then getting banned from her bf's cool bar
meandering through the jubilee trying to look cool --> pretending to do work but watching ESPN gamecast in the ag econ computer lab
"i'm on my way to meet seth" --> "well i am pretty tired... i held four office hours today"
i just got ditched --> i just got ditched

but the thing about the orange jubilee story that also falls in line with today's incident is that back then, i kinda shrugged it off. maybe i am just the master of rationalizing things, but in the end i didn't care. i mean i didn't want to explain the situation to the people i ran into and force an awkward convo, but as for the guys that ditched me, whatevz.

and as for tonite, i realize my pathetic night makes for great blog fodder, but in the end i don't really care. the details of my orange jubilee day were far more memorable than the moment i got ditched. and today, tomorrow and the next day are so full to the brim that anything potentially good can only add to it.

i'll stop myself here before i turn into milan kundera.. or dmitri.

men, violins, wine

what do these three have in common? clearly, it's that they get better with age. wine, violins, i mean those are obvious examples. but i'm about to talk about men, and subsequently women. bear with me please. i'm in somewhat of a spontaneous mood right now... so here we go.

so i was on the fazebok just now checkin out some chicks and i realized i have my own little strategy when trying to estimate their hotness from the limited information. before i get shit from you hypocrites about how it's all weird to be stalkerish, i'd just like to say that yes, i'm curious, i'm a nosy dude, and i guess i won't apologize for it. i mean, who's got so much goin on with their lives that they really would mind some attention? i guess i take for granted the fact that i'm not a crazy person.... but that gets me to thinkin...

if there were no "normal" stalkers.... normal "stalkers" i should say, the pool of people stalking would just be the really creepy people, the crazies that would act out in some dangerous or violent or fearful way. but if it was normal to check people out, to see what people are up to and get in their business, out of mere curiosity or genuine interest, i'd say the world would be a safer place. or at least a more trusting place, where the real pariahs could at least try to copy the example of others' decency, as opposed to being provoked and relegated to their midnight stalking and creepiness.

anyway, onto my method. n00bs go straight for the photos, but that's a huge mistake. if you're a guy, you gotta know that your eyes will trick your brain into thinking whatever you or ur dick wants to believe. so u go to their info and peruse, briefly, without thinking too much. it's a huge mistake to look too deeply into each category, as if the person spent hours trying to pick out their favorite bands and books. i mean some people do, but you can't really tell, can you. or sometimes you'll see some witty phrase that says, i'm too cool to care about listening my favorite bands. or maybe the task is too heavy for them, or they're too insecure about being judged.

overall, this first step is just a cursory glance at someone's personality. from worst to best, here are some possible combinations:

the hipster christian who, despite her proclivity for free thinking and loose morals, will never give it up
- religion: something deep that hints at christianity
- activities: somewhere in here will be an emerging church or the name of a fellowship that might be misconstrued for a cafe or acting troupe.
- interests: if there's no mention of GOD!!! it's deliberate... she's a sleeper agent.
- fav music: sufj for sure
- fav tv shows: arrested development, the office, you know the safe picks
- fav movies: amelie, some foreign film, some wes anderson film
- quote: either something literary or something witty, or some semi-flirtatious, inviting comment e.g. just talk to me! ;)

the too-cool-for-school, but not too-cool-for-facebook girl.
- religion: athiest, or some ironic judeo-christian reference that's supposed to be a joke.
- activities: none
- interests: none
- fav music: daft punk, and a handful of bands you've vaguely heard of that are mostly considered cool.
- fav tv shows: some stupid MTV show, house

the hot girl who can't hide her vapidity because she's totally unaware of it
- religion: a specific denomination of christian, or jewish
- activities: stupid college clubs
- interests: obvious stuff like tv, runnning, dancing, shopping... i mean, things that all girls are interested in, so really there's no point in listing it.
- fav music: the killers, kanye, amy winehouse, and other good musicians who make bad music
- fav tv shows: the amazing race! the hills!
- quotes: dance like no one's watching, sing like no one's listening, dream like no one's.... freddy kruger? there are several iterations of this quote, and the more she lists the more self-esteem she lacks.

the ultimate cute girl who i will marry, yes ok this is borderline creepy
- religion: christian
- activities: none
- interests: it doesn't matter... in all honesty this section only matters if she puts something cheesy (long, deep conversations) or something obvious (see hot girl description)
- fav music: a few of the standard cool indie rock bands (sonic youth, arcade fire), a healthy amount of americana, and some out-of-nowhere old school rap
- fav tv shows: THE WIRE... if it's all in caps, extra points.
- quotes: something meaningful, something thoughtful... but not something ironic or witty.

and on a side note, that the ultimate cute girl who i will marry is a christian is not some prerequisite, but a signal that despite being into cool things, she keeps it real by sticking to her religion. or something like that.

so after you check out her interests and loosely categorize her, it's time to move onto photos. first, you have to browse her profile pictures because that's the version of her she wants people to see. sometimes you'll get very adorable pictures, sometimes some funny political or wtf images, and sometimes big groups of people that make it hard to identify who it is you're stalking. all of this should tell you a little bit about their personality, at least moreso than the information provided because.. i mean for profile pics, you actually have to put a little effort into searching for and uploading the image.

next you view their photos. and this process is how i got the idea for this post - that men age better than women. you may be offended, you may be confused, but really you're probably not reading this right now because this post is so goddamn long. anyway, i like to view photos in chronological order. that is, i start from the first photo and end at their most recent photo. i do this for several reasons: for one, i like to see what the person looked like when they were in high school or freshmen in college, because usually at that point if your life you have no sense of style and so if you were pretty then, you're probably pretty now. on the flip side of that, i can see if you gained or lost lots of weight, because i guess the ideal is to stay consistent.

another reason to view photos chronologically is to look for any question marks... as in, what photo doesn't belong in this set? like if the girl is a nice christian girl and then i left-arrow onto a half-naked, drunken french nurse all over some hot chick, i'd say this person has a dark side. the one thing to consider here is that lots of times, photos are taken when people are actually doing something, and they don't capture everyday life. so if someone only has party photos, that doesn't necessarily mean all they do is party. or if someone just has church photos... well actually, that probably means all they do is church stuff. i mean, you take more pictures when you go out, so if you have none to show for then you're probably a huge loser.

so now that we have the rationale down, here are the results. most girls my age get a lot prettier as time goes on. in high school and freshman year in college, as i mentioned, they don't know how to dress, misuse their makeup, and are generally too immature to realize that despite it's unfairness, looks matter. as they get older and fill into their bodies (note, very different from getting fat), they exude confidence, humor, a lightness and beauty. that's a bit overstated. but for the most part, during their mid-20s, these girls are in their best years. a pretty 20-something can get any guy she wants. if a guy wielded that power, and i guess some guys do, he would be a pretty big man whore.

if you've heard of the christmas tree theorem, then you kind of know where i'm going with this. after 25 comes 26. the tree is still bright and beautiful, but time is ticking. 27, tick. 28, tick. 29, 30, 31... why is this tree still here?

really it's multiple factors - the weight of life, stress, the burden of over thinking, the reality of gravity on your once taut skin... very little of it is physical, i think. most of it is that women become tired of life. they are not old, but their lightness, their humor, their confidence ages a bit. and somehow it shows. i've heard it said that as a woman gets older, she becomes more open to random hookups. they have less social structure and safe communities that frown upon bad decisions and support her to make good ones. they realize they can't have just anyone they want, and generally you want what you can't have. they're all too aware of the life-tolls they've paid on their faces, the backs of their legs, their hands... and it's this hyperawareness that is not beautiful. because their faces, their legs, their hands are mostly the same.

if you look at a guy in chronological order on fb, here's what you'll see. first, a goofy, awkward set of limbs moving into his college dorm. second, embarrassing pictures that he probably should take down, pictures of him drunk doing things that were TOTALLY AWESOME... at the time. then lots of boring things like hiking, college events, concerts, etc. but like a tree he is growing, and by the most recent pictures you'll see a twenty-something coming into his own. physically, he's not fully grown, not like a man in his mid-thirties with something of a belly and kids and stuff. but he's growing, he's getting there. his hair is what it ought to be. his clothes are not impressive but fitting. he learned how to smile in pictures.

but overall, the guy is a work in progress, and will continue to be until... well until he dies i guess. there is no peak for a man, but a continual climb upwards. the age lines that mark his face indicate wisdom, confidence, virility for having lasted that long. his sinewy arms will have meant years of use and labor, his enlarged waist a sign of gustatory pleasure, experienced over and over. his hair may turn a distinguished gray or he may become beautifully bald. as his body enlarges, he becomes more masculine. he becomes more fully himself, boring through the holes in his self-image to emerge as an older, better man.

every year he looks back and laughs. mistakes are learned from and victories are celebrated again in his active mind. last year he was a child; this year, less so. hindsight, to him, sees growth and improvement, even where those things did not exist. he still has a temper. he still is stubborn. but the weariness of his humanity doesn't weigh down on him. the hardness of life serves to temper his will, not beat the lightness out of him.

you can see it in a photo and you can see it in his face. for a woman, you'll see how the city sucked the life out of her. you'll see how lovers have broken her and how the heaviness convinced her that she's not quite what she was. but for a man, he is better than who he was, and he can be better than who he is. and that's what drives him. a driven man is too busy and focused to realize his terrible faults. he's too driven to die of old age. his body will not break down against his will. life will not erode on him, but a crisis can stop a man in his tracks. a death or shock or sudden disillusionment can derail a man. the death of a loved one, of his better half or of his children, will slow him down to a halt. and life will catch up with him then. you'll see the tiredness in his eyes and the heaviness on his knees. at that point, he's on his last mile.

the death of a man's better half will take its toll on a man because he's not complete without her. part of a man's fulfillment is the pursuit of a woman, which in itself is worthwhile and a good reason for just about anything. without a woman to pursue and eventually fulfill, a man will break down like a machine missing a part. but with a woman he becomes something more than what he was yesterday.

can i say the same for a woman? i've heard it said that some girls will eat a stick of butter after they get married. sure, people let loose a bit after some comfort. but by doing so, is she she becoming more of a woman, or is she become more of a man? and if she resents the difference, would she be happier treated as a man? probably not. if she goes down that road, she'll probably cheat on her husband with a man who treats her like a woman.

anyway, when a man ages, he becomes more of a man. when a woman ages and becomes less of a woman, that's a sad thing to see. but when a woman ages and puts on years of beauty and experience, and she sheds the trivialities of her youth, the frivolous insecurities and petty ambitions, she becomes more of herself, and whole. and the world needs more people whole.

tu tranquilidad..... en el campo!

to answer the questions of what exactly i'm doing in peru, i'm working on a research project in collaboration with a load of ag economists from uc davis, university of san francisco, u of wisconsin and peru. the general idea is that we are introducing a new form of crop insurance available to cotton farmers in the pisco valley through the insurance company, la positiva. the insurance is available through the local microfinance bank from which most farmers get their loans.

the details on the insurance are as follows. indemnities are payed when average valley yields are below a certain strikepoint, which was established with historical yield data. so, if there's horrendous weather one year, or some kind of shock that affects the whole valley, farmers who bought the insurance will get a payout. the idea is that in a year when everyone's yield is suffering, there's no support for farmers who can't pay back their loan (almost all cotton farmers here operate on loaned money). the insurance shifts covariate risk from farmers to the insurance company.

there are lots of levels of research going on through this insurance project. the million dollar question is to see if farmers will be more willing to take out credit, since they're insured against more risk with the crop insurance. at the same time, credit agencies may be more willing to give out loans since they're more confident that they'll get paid (either from the farmer or la positiva).

another question is whether or not farmers will understand this new form of insurance, so the research team i am on is going out to teach farmers about it through experimental economic games. the games simulate production decisions with real payouts (in proportion to what they would normally make, i.e. $1400 is a typical yearly payout, translated to $2.2 of real money in our game). we simulate weather shocks and individual luck by drawing from a bag. the idea is that the highest expected payout comes with the choice of credit with insurance, which the farmers learn by playing the game over and over.

the question i'm investigating is if their "individual luck" factor is more important than their "weather shock" factor in determining variability of cotton output. if a farmer faces more risk from, say, getting robbed than he does from bad weather, then a covariate insurance policy wouldn't do much for the farmer. or, maybe someone with a certain set of characteristics is more likely to invest in the covariate insurance... that would help identify market potential for the insurance company, and shed light as to how a farmer deals with risk.

how awesome is that????? maybe not that awesome. but i find it all really interesting, and i'm probably not explaining it the best way possible. actually though, i've had a lot of practice explaining to tourists what the hell it is i'm doing in pisco (a town destroyed by last year's earthquake, where no tourists go). i start off with "working with cotton farmers" to "introducing a new insurance program" and finally, if they seem interested, go into the whole experimental games thing. i had one guy basically tell me that it was unethical to play chance-based games with these indigenous peruvians, since it's probably against their tribal religions.

the farmers we meet range from really old and senile, to old and hilarious. there are a few young guys who are generally smart. i think overall they enjoy the games because a) they get to win money, and b) it's almost like gambling, which is fun. plus they learn about this new insurance which, all things considered, is a good thing.

anyway, we're done with all the games and we're moving on to another survey that will be distributed in the fall. i'm going to start looking at a risk-survey which will hopefully write my thesis for me. yahoo.

and no pictures for now... the internet connection here sucks.

edit: the title of this post comes from a short video we played during the presentations in pisco... it's a ridiculous promo made by la positiva, and we as researchers do our best to distance ourselves from peddling insurance. anyway, the people in the video are really excited about crop insurance, and it ends with a forceful, "Agropositiva! Tú tranquilidad..... en el campo," with the camera panning across a flourishing campo.

an update in peru

my right ear is clogged, and has been for the past few days. well really it comes and goes, with hours of full 20-20 sonic range registered from the tiny cilia and eardrums to my brain. but invariably something clogs my delicate inner-ear canals, as if someone's poured swimming-pool water down my tubes. this is particularly annoying right now when i'm trying to enjoy the jazz music playing over the PA at this starbucks, because if i could (enjoy it, i mean), it would make my night complete.

it's true, i'm in peru, thousands of miles away from home, with endless opportunities to immerse myself in a foreign culture. but as things go, i just hate traveling, and the whole idea of forcing myself to adapt and adjust tires me endlessly. in a country that speaks unintelligible spanish (to this gringo.... or chino?), engaging in a drunken exploration of Lima's nightlife, or in flirtatious conversations with the girl across me, ends up as a game of charades, played over and over until it's not fun or novel. i thought about "stretching myself" tonight but the thought of a big couch, hot coffee and the illusion of social interaction seemed just perfect. whether in lima or in davis, nothing beats a night of jazz and steinbeck.. even with a broken ear.

don't get me wrong. i love other cultures and immersing myself in them, to the point where i have some place and footing. but i can't do traveling in the "backpacked through europe" sense, living like a vagabond, staying in dirty hostels and partying with fellow backpackers. it's not that i'm above it, i just don't have the personality for it. i'm not fun enough and i'm too conscious about social norms. this should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me. [edit: i realize that i'm about to go on a backpacking tour of argentina in a few weeks, which i'm really excited about. the difference though is that i'll be going with a friend, which is a completely different experience from traveling solo, i think]

so a normal day for me begins with a battle for my bowels. it's me and my day against my nagging innards that don't want to clear themselves at a time convenient. ideally all of yesterday's bistec con papas, chicha morada and desayuno americano would exit me in a neat and timely fashion. but that rarely happens. so it ends up a war of attrition. i dare not stray from my hotel room without having passed something from my body, so a lot of toilet sitting ensues, with me and my day eventually winning by force of gravity. after that i watch tv, check my email and slowly groom myself. half the day is gone by the time i leave my room and join the research team to do actual work.

most days are arduous, so we make moments light by talking about movies or joking around about this or that. i stay mostly quiet, partly because i'm just quiet and partly because i don't understand what people are saying. most of my conversations follow the same short template. i stumble through a simple question and the person asks me back in english what i'm trying to say. i repeat the question in spanish, interspersing english at the difficult parts. the person answers in spanish, and i stare back blankly, trying desperately to process the response.

the conversation usually ends for me at that point because someone else will jump in to fill the silence. i go back to listening, breaking down the slang from the words i think i might know. normally, i'm five to ten seconds behind in the conversation, so if someone suddenly asks me my opinion on something, it's usually followed by the group's jovial laughter at my deer-in-headlights look and "no sé" response. this goes on about 100 times a day.

after we get back from our "research" trips - i won't bore you with that - our entire focus is shifted to dinner. or more specifically, bistec con papas. we walk the dusty streets past piles of rubble from the 2007 earthquake, which destroyed the entire city. not much is in pisco, especially in the way of restaurants, so nicer places like el dorado and as de oro's gets a lot of business. we prefer the latter, even though it's a bit father. conversation is sparse, and doesn't pick up until we've sat and ordered. the food isn't particularly cheap, but we eat like kings, deservedly so because we don't eat lunch on a normal day. with our giant meals we drink chicha morada and chelas (beers). the night winds down with more beers, and maybe a movie on someone's laptop.

a normal day is in pisco with the research team, but tonight i'm in lima, relaxing and enjoying the break from the daily grind. so here i am, at a starbucks updaing my blog and reading some steinbeck. i don't know if that makes me a typical american, vying for comfort and whatnot.. but i'm pretty sure i'm the only gringo here right now. maybe i'm just the typical boring person, because nothing in my trip has been as inspiring as this book on this couch in this corporate starbucks. ironically, or not, it's called "america and americans."

stay tuned for pt 2... with pics! i promise.

a break

i'm going to take a break from the muxtapes for now as i'll be out of the country for a while. peru 2.0 if you will... i'm going to make sure that every person who rose their hands at those plaza alter calls three years ago are still going to church.

just kidding. i'm going to peru to learn about field research. i'll be helping out with economic games involving crop insurance that we'll "play" with farmers across the pisco valley. in other words, i'll be handing out cokes and taking pictures until somehow i learn enough spanish to converse.

in about a month i'll be trekking through argentina with dave pizzles. speaking of which, happy b dude.

pictures and stuff will be up periodically, i hope... adios!

hip hop for white people

meowymix 6.0

and when i say "white people" i mean, non-black.  i think these MCs bring something more to the table than self-aggrandizing, sexualized lyrics, which is something lots of (white) people can't get over when it comes to hip hop these days.  and on top of that, there's nothing white people appreciate more than a guy being ghetto AND intelligent.  i mean... who wasn't cheering for Omar when he bested the then-untouchable Levy during the Gant murder trial?  

but after living in atlanta for four years, i just can't help but make a case for dirty south hip hop.  sometimes you just gotta admit that a song is tyte, no matter what the dude is saying over the track.  i hope the transition from classic east coast hip hop (gza, ghostface) into more recent atl work (jeezy, t.i.) runs smoothly for you folk at home.  i snuck in some oldschool outkast just to ease the flow.  

leading off the set is mostly east bay hip hop from the early 90s.  retro + underground music + semi-intelligent hip hop = super indie street cred.  

so enjoy the new meowymix in all of its intelligent, non-sexual hip hop goodness, but lock the doors before you do!

MM 5.0

throwback pop!

my last mix, MM4, was a bit of a letdown because muxtape wouldn't let me upload one of the songs.  so after battling with the website, i got kind of disheartened and i didn't feel like writing about it.  oh well...

so lately i've been watching a few episodes of scrubs on ninjavideo before i sleep to kinda wind down the day.  i think it's a pretty good mindless show, except for the fact that sometimes the videos are messed up and they loop halfway through the show, so i don't know how any of the episodes end.  anyway, in one of the episodes the surgeons are arguing about what song to put on during surgery, and the asian doctor demands to listen to erasure, much to the black doctor's dismay.  but the next day the black guy can't stop singing the erasure song, "a little respect", because it's so darn catchy.

so that's how the mix started out, with that really stupid inspiration.  but alas it is an awesome catchy song.  as for the rest of the mix, most of it comes from me desperately searching my music library for anything that resembles 80s tunes.  when i realized i didn't have enough 80s music to make an entire mix, i renamed the mix "throwback pop".... and then i IMed my brother to ask for his 80s music library for when he comes home later.

so a few notable songs - the sinead o'connor song, i heard on the radio today and decided it had to go on the mix.  it's edgy and angsty and all about love, which is what almost all 80s music is about.  i threw on some junior bizzles cuz they're pretty much the night club/lounge-y version of new order if bernard sumner wasn't fat and drunk all the time.

blood of eden is an epic song (read: many words) like the theme song from Say Anything, "in your eyes".  but here, peter gabriel tackles the theme of original sin with sexually charged biblical allusions.  people don't really write songs of this ambition anymore.  in fact i'd say a lot of music has gone in the opposite direction from blood of eden.  think about a band like postal service, what with its inorganic sounds and cutesy, meaningless lyrics.  compare these lyrics:

"Is that a dagger or a crucifix I see
You hold so tightly in your hand
And all the while the distance grows between you and me
I do not understand"

and

"I feel must interject here you're getting carried away feeling sorry for yourself
With these revisions and gaps in history
So let me help you remember.
I've made charts and graphs that should finally make it clear.
I've prepared a lecture on why i have to leave"

ok putting up these lyrics is admittedly pointless given that there's no basis for comparison to begin with.  but the greater point i'm trying to make is that in the past, artists used lyrics to try to say something with pop music, whereas now the songs are statements in and of themselves.  blood of eden would be a boring, ethereal track if it wasn't for the powerful story gabriel is telling.  but now, when people want to "feel" something in their music instantly without having to actually listen, words no longer add meaning to songs but instead add to the aesthetic or greater context of the song.  

this postal service song is the perfect example... when i hear it, i don't stop and say "these lyrics are dumb" even though they are.  it's more like... "these lyrics are supposed to be dumb, and if they were anything but dumb, this song would suck."  i guess the song is saying, sometimes people sound ridiculous, especially when it comes to relationships, so let's all lighten up.

back to the mix... kind of a curveball for non-rues is the band "out of the grey".  i also tried to put some susan ashton on the mix but muxtape didn't let me.  they are cmm/country artists from back in the day.  but before u knock it, just know that they were doin alt-country before such a term existed....  at least susan ashton and along the road and all that good stuff.  anyway, this out of the grey song is from the early 90s, but it definitely sounds like it could be from the 80s, back when pop songs were 5 minutes long.

the kate bush and m83 tracks are recycled from old mixes... i don't have enough throwback pop.  i could definitely use some suggestions on this one.

fin

rites of spring

springtime in davis welcomes a celebration of life, pollen and hot girls.  moments of springtime abound and i am here to capture them for you.  so here we go:

- at once, in a study lounge, a barbie doll punishes her laptop with index-finger typing and annoys everyone with her loud clickity-clacks.  students curl up on tiny couches like kittens, basking under sunlight pouring through the windows.  

- orangutans on bikes make their way through campus.  i call them that because they do not grip the handles, but to balance themselves they stiffen their arms and hold them straight down like an orangutan.  there's no need to bike handle-less except to look cool, and towards this end they fail miserably.  

- a particular religious fanatic wears a harness to support his massive "God hates sinners" sign.  though his evocation of curses aren't necessary given the extensive list of sinners on the sign (witches, lazy christians, fags, effeminate academics(?)), he curses on-lookers nonetheless.  a few brave and equally annoying individuals defend themselves against his accusations, but he is louder and more shameless than the rest.  

- remnants of the annual hippie-fest persist, long after the aroma of marijuana and hemp-wearing vendors has past.  a woman's long-flowing skirt flails in the air as she twirls a hula-hoop over her head.  smelly homeless guys ask for change before tooting their alpenhorn (the long instrument from the ricola commercials).  the weekly farmers market attracts the hippie crowd as they sway to the mellow bluegrass band.

- pages of the california aggie, the newspaper to which i am employed, strew about like tumbleweed, especially in the narrow tunnels between buildings.  the wind picks them up, and a more artistic person would find beauty in their mid-air suspension (a la the paper bag in American Beauty).  it makes me sad though, because usually the pages left strewn about are from the arts section for which i write.

i have a meeting with my professor now so the moments of springtime will be cut short for now.  and thus ends the lamest post in the world.

meowymix 3.0

for those of you not in the know, muxtape is all the rave as the best new-music-finding site... better than pandora, lastfm and imeem...  it's clean, simple and best of all it plays high quality tunes.  

anyway, i'm going to try to update my meowymix  consistently, and when i do i'm going to write a little blurb about the songs i chose and why.  since i'm still like a teenage boy who overthinks each song, song placement, song transitions, etc., these meowymixes mean a lot more to me than they should.  and since they matter to me they should mean a lot to you too.

aside:  this is my third mix i've made on muxtape.  maybe i'll resurrect the first and second mixes in weeks to come.

meowymix 3.0: when folk and electronic music meet, sometimes they have illegitimate children.

this mix is a half-hearted attempt to marry folk and electronic music.  it starts the way most failed relationships start - with a third party.  the mutual friend invites the unlikely pair to the bars and conveniently leaves to watch the awkward conversations and forced laughter.  or, like gilbert arenas, the he'll round up some homeless people and invite himself over to his buddy's house, where his family is having dinner.  then in the middle of dinner, he'll get up and go, leaving the homeless guys at his friend's house.

here, the third party is the first two tracks, and they initiate a cascade of experimental folk and electronic music with an incredible track from The Books.  this might be my new favorite band of the moment.  they're a duo from new york that combines voice clips, natural sounds and acoustic rhythms to create a disjointed, primitive sound.  enjoy your worries, the track is titled. you may never have them again.  an atlas sound track slips in next.  the natural transition into this song, titled "Cold as Ice" contradicts the warmth of of the previous three.  the idea of cold separation pervades in the electro-pop song "take it easy (love nothing)" by bright eyes.

the next song was a problem.  i really wanted to put in "ms jackson" by outkast, but for some reason i chickened out.  instead i put in some filler song that sounds nice but really makes no sense - shift by grizzly bizzle.  the next track, 2 sisters drunk on each other by califone, reminds me of the books i've been reading.  in 100 years in solitude, incest is repeated after each generation forgets the mistakes (and incest) of the previous generation.  this chance meeting of folk and electronica is in the same vein...  something's just a little off in their meeting, and it's as awkward and taboo as incest.  ok maybe it's not that awkward.  anyway...

 the two have an illegitimate child that they leave in a train to be cared for by a scary man, which is all taken as a bad dream by the folkster who, of course, is the one to sit back and recount her tales in song.  and so the story ends.  enjoy!

the man crush

i'm pretty comfortable with my sexuality... some may say too comfortable. especially after this post. but i think it's time for me to reveal to the world certain individuals who i find admirable in one way or another. it's not even that i'd crush on these guys if i was a girl.... i don't take my mancrushes that far. i just think these guys are cool. so back off.

Mike Mussina aka The Moose

there's just something about the moose that makes me think, this is one good looking dude. maybe it's his intense stare-down right before he launches a devastating knuckle curve. or maybe it's the fact that he looks like jack from lost (though i've had my platonic eye on mussina since he pitched for the orioles). whatever it is, he has it. i am not gay.

Martin Keamy from Lost

Keamy is a renegade mercenary who wants nothing more than to blow up lots of stuff on the island in Lost.  he looks a quarter asian, which qualifies him as one of the few cool asians in television.  but as badass as he is, keamy had me when he delivered that fateful but overlooked line, the imperative phrase that sums up his cool and dangerous demeanor:

"gas up the chopper, frank"

fans of lost know how cool he sounded when he said it.  this is the equivalent of saying "get off my back" or "you're not important enough to even argue with."  and this is how i'm going to talk from now on.

Marty Sampson

back when i was melting congregational faces with my cherry red fender strat, i had what one could perceive as a man crush on a certain worship leader.  my faux-affection (often mistaken for real affection) wasn't as strong as other korean american worship band members, i'm sure... but what college christian can resist marty sampson's spiritual crooning and rock-star outfits?  not me.

Ernie Johnson

is he black?  is he white?  i'm not the only one wondering.  as the smooth host of TNT's inside the NBA, ernie doesn't get overshadowed by barkley's big personality or kenny's insight.  when things get out of hand, ernie brings it back.  when barkley doesn't feel like talking, ernie fills in the void.  the guy's got a brother's swagger.  what can i say?

Nicholas Kristof

you may think you've met a kristof sometime in your life.  maybe that guy in high school who everyone liked, who quietly got straight As while founding a new volunteer organization.  maybe the girl that raised half a million dollars in relief aid in darfur by selling ridiculously adorned paperclips.  but lets make things clear - you haven't met a kristof.  

magna cum laude graduate from harvard, law degree from oxford, fluent in mandarin and arabic.  kristof is a journalist for the new york times.  he isn't some do-gooder liberal who preaches the evils of the world from a soap box.  he travels the world, gets on the ground and tells us what's going on.  whether its in china, darfur or even our own back yard, kristof gives a fair and balanced opinion when discussing nuanced issues.  and he's got a cute asian wife.  

anyway. each of these guys is admirable in his own right.  i know some will inevitably question my sexual preference but to them all i gotta say is.... gas up the chopper, frank.  

space cowboys

space cowboys - no, not the clint eastwood movie.  instead... my millionth attempt at trying to convey this theory i have about music.  (dont worry.. there will be a 1,000,001 attempt coming)

two american frontiers occupied our imaginations since our inception.  one, the west, was the promised land, promised to us by God in some manifest destiny that entitled white americans to keep pushing west and claiming land.  the west was california, a land of milk and honey, of gold even, and vast lands warmed by constant sunshine.  that's the gist of that.

space came a bit later, after the west was won of course.  the idea was the same though, at least at the time.  the russians launched their satellite, not to stake claim to space itself, but to be pioneers in science and ingenuity.  we put a man on the moon.  that was a milestone, but the frontiers were found to be expanding, accelerating out far beyond human scope.  and likewise, our ingenuity and imagination have chased those frontiers out, beyond the gravity of deductive reasoning and finite equations, through black holes that stretch and rip light and sound and spit us out through worm holes that maybe a few have imagined traveling...

well anyway.  there is music that reflects the values and stories of those two frontiers.  both frontiers achieve a certain destiny, but they are ultimately empty.  it's as if there was some unforeseen leak that let that destiny drip out, leaving the music incomplete.  the western commemorated the stories of people and places, they ascribed meaning to values and value to meaning...  but they were insular, circular, incested and eventually marketed to become crappy country music that makes mere reference to the "good old days".  once they hit the coast and settled their lands, they began to leak imagination from their heartfelt honesty, and they leaked it until they were dry like the riverbeds in late summer, or dry like their repetitive, cursory conversations they had with their neighbors.  dry like the promise of the western frontier, leaving a thirst for imagination and expansiveness.

with that thirst, they launched themselves into space.  they looked back on our small blue earth and saw things in a different light.  they asked questions that challenged meaning and values and stories in our music, deconstructing that which they did not themselves build.  sound became waveforms, words were just sounds, music was sound on sound.  as for light, it became waves and particles, scientifically proven, but methodically detached from previous connotations of good, and dark stripped of evil.  and with just waveforms and sounds and particles and waves, we achieved something primal and raw, more real than any story, universal as the consciousness of the living, and empty as the vastness of space.  even as we breathe, space is become more vast and more empty.  galaxies are just too few and far between for this space experiment to gather the beauty of light and sound in a way that can be appreciated in a song.

so where the west failed in that we reached its end, space failed in reaching no end.  so somewhere in between is where we are, but not where we will be.  like folding two ends of a string, music will bring together the western frontier to converge with the expansion of space, and in their joining will make something perfect, i believe.  

in other words:  folk music + experimental music = omg

the grime of bananas

sometimes, doing the right thing hurts

like peeling a banana

the right way -

you're left with grime under your nail

and still a peel left over.

coffee

i had the unfortunate experience of having to answer nature's call right after buying a piping hot cup of coffee. and it wasn't the call to take a piss... i knew i had a giant diarrhea coming. i think there's some unwritten rule that in public bathrooms, everything you touch is unclean, i.e. the bathroom floor, the toilet and consequently yourself (hence the handwashing). but it would have been a waste to throw away my coffee, which i need to transform me from a brooding hater to a peppy, inquisitive grad student.

so i walked up the stairs of the student union to this hidden bathroom that's always empty. but this time the door to the bathroom was wide open and there was this homeless guy washing himself in one of the sinks. this was unacceptable for several reasons. firstly, whether in front of a homeless guy or a barack obama, i was ashamed to be seen bringing my coffee into the stall with me. i can write about it ex post, but at the time it was just too weird. secondly, i knew i was in for a monster dump, and since the bathroom door was wide open i felt kind of insecure... i mean the only good thing about this bathroom is that it's hidden, so proclaiming to the world my bowel explosions wasn't what i was going for. and lastly, i was scared that the homeless man would do something to me. so i left.

today must be opposite day because then i checked a more popular bathroom and it was empty. to my surprise and delight, even the toilet seat seemed clean; clean enough to place my bare bottom sans a toilet-paper shield. i put my coffee cup on the flat part of the toilet (like the part attatched to the flusher) and dropped an efficient yet explosive diarrhea. in that time a few people walked in and out, but whatevz. they did their own thing, i did my own thing, and they had no idea i had in my stall a perishible food item i planned to consume later. i waited till everyone left to walk out of my stall with a coffee cup and a banana (oh yeah i had a banana), knowing i probably looked like a dude walking out of a starbucks... except it was out of a bathroom stall. washed my hands, checked myself out, and quickly left. mission accomplished.

so here i am, sitting in the student union, drinking my coffee. hopefully particles of diarrhea didn't float into the small slit at the top of the cup or latch onto the insulating sleeve. WOW! and look who just walked by! it's the homeless guy from the first bathroom. i should buy him a cup of coffee.

in conclusion, i broke the no-food-while-pooping rule and i'm alive and well. let's buck this social trend and accept one another, in defecation and in life.

cool chris

ever since freshmen year of college, there has been a certain persona that has haunted me from afar.  the embodiment of this persona changed as the years went by, but still i was haunted by its real and constant presence.  when my friends first noticed it, they aptly named it "cool chris" because we didn't knew the real guy's name, not like it mattered.  cool chris would become a fixture in my life.  he was at times hipper, more artsy, more atheletic, more successful, more popular with the ladies, or more liked by his peers.  at all times he was cooler.  

here is the list of cool chris's that have tortured me these past five years.  i may be suppressing others in my subconscious, so feel free to remind me of any latent cool chris's.

The Precursor to Cool Chris:

i officially met pete in my sophomore year in an electronic music class, but he began to haunt me long before then.  on several occasions as a freshmen, random strangers would come up to me and begin a friendly conversation.  we would talk about this or that, and i thought maybe i was making a new friend.  but at some point in the convo, i'd realize that this person has no idea who i am and must be mistaking me for someone else.  sometimes it was a reference to that awesome party we supposedly went to last weekend.  sometimes it was the "seeya later, pete!" at the end of the convo... in which case i couldn't correct their mistake.  

"so what are you doing this weekend"  

"umm...  just hanging out, the usual."

"haha yea right.  u crazy pete.  later!"

"??????"

as i mentioned, i finally met pete in my electronic music class.  i told him a few of those stories and he laughed, saying that a friend of his mentioned a lookalike on campus... except he didn't have any stories about how my friends would randomly approach him by mistake, leading me to believe i had significantly less friends than he did.  anyway, he was a business major and he produced music on the side for local MCs in the atlanta area.  some of the compositions he made in that class were sick.  

the reason he is the precursor to cool chris and not the first cool chris is not because he wasn't cooler than me, because he was.  it's because he began to haunt me before the name was invented.  that, my friends, happened towards the end of freshman year...

The Original Cool Chris:

his real name was jimmy but that hardly mattered.  to me and my hallmates, he was and always will be Cool Chris.  he was tall and skinny and of course asian.  he had long flowing locks and skinny ass jeans.  he embodied the look i was going for, and he did it effortlessly.  he was some sort of creative arts major, i think drawing.  he was an artist with mystique; moody, brooding and unpredictable.

he lived in the hall next door but we didn't cross paths until second semester freshmen year.  actually, he probably doesn't realize we crossed paths, and he probably has no idea who i am...  but anyway, i met a cute girl in my biology lab.  she was short and asian and had some life in her voice.  bio lab ended pretty late, so we walked back to the dorms together a few times.  she wanted to be a doctor and was stressed about grades.  she seemed charming, warm and secretly hip.  what i didn't know was that she was dating someone...  someone by the name of Cool Chris.  

my friends knew i had the hots for her, so they did some recon for me.  they saw her hanging around with this taller, hipper version of me and reported back that she probably has a boyfriend, and that i have no chance.  he simply beat me at all my strengths and we shared the same weaknesses... that we were both brooding and skinny and awkward.

glimmers of hope came to life when i heard stories that their relationship was dwindling.  i heard he smashed his roommate's phone for answering a call during a movie or something....  anyway, instead of manning up and "shaking the tree until the golden apple falls down" as one friend puts it, i wrote a song about how she's probably in an abusive relationship.  my fans know it as song 21.1:

why i can't date cool chris's girlfriend, or song 21.1

Three wisps of your hair in the wind

Press against your cheek

The soft sunrays delight in finding

Golden fields of harvest wheat

Two eyes now rise to see

Impressions of a fading dream

Of fields untouched by other men

And warmer rays by softer suns

Of golden rays by golden suns

A breath of air through my lungs

Push against my heart

Stripped and naked to the core

Beaten weak onto the floor

You love him like a lover’s chore

You never walk out of the door

Your warmth is my regret

That dreams of old could die

My impressions of what could have been

Of old stories untold

The Return of Cool Chris:

on leaving atlanta, i thought i could recreate myself and form a fuller, more confident version of me.  chris 2.2 perhaps.  gone were the days of crippling insecurity and misplaced priorities.  old ghosts, and great memories, would stay in the past.  but as it goes, there are no second acts in life... and Cool Chris is here to stay.

so there's this girl i think is cute.  like the original Cool Chris's gf (who by the way, was referred to as just that for several years) she seems smart and hip.  sometimes i see her at the cafe i study at.  i think one day my glance caught her eye and since then she's made it a point to bring her boyfriend with her whenever she comes.  i thought he was a goofy motherfucker when i first saw him, but that only made it worse when they started making out.  maybe they just started dating and are crazy about each other, but it was pretty gratuitous.  i'd like not to think it was him doing it to spite me, to remind me of who the Cool chris really is. 

if i compared this new cool chris to me at my prime, when i actually had some semblance of a life, there would be no contest.  but i think he's returned to remind me from what heights i have fallen, that this asian, who isn't even skinny and hip, has outdone me in the girl department.  because of that, i recognize him as that old ghost, the same guy who had more friends than me, the guy who had the girl i only hoped i could have.  the Return of Cool Chris.  though maybe he never left.  maybe he never will.

the return of cool chris, or mishka's cafe 1.3

hallowed be the open seat or table

or occupied in half so as to share.

porcelain left waiting does beleaguer

to claim the open space she might offer

and hope that one, that solely i recover.

common grounds invite to all awaken

and oil for the erudite to burn.

behind the clink of coffee mugs and glasses,

the gentle whir of muffled words 

like soft blades spinning as a fan above

or quiet whispers beckoning to join.

on empty days there are no reasons, thus

on nights when orange lights glow warm 

and patrons pour in

empty hopes take longer to remember, that 

her lips have touched the claim atop her table

and in return an impasse comes to claim her.

interesting questions

i'm going to try to compile a list of interesting questions one could ask another.  they're not universally interesting....  their relevance depends on who ur asking and what you think is interesting at the time.  anyway here goes:

1)  where were you when MLK got shot?

- of course you need to ask this to an old person.  it's a cool question on several levels... for one, it gets the person to start answering in a narrative, and it's always cool to hear old people tell stories about their lives.  secondly, it gives u some insight as to that person's values and experiences as they pertain to race in america.  thirdly it's an awesome way to remember the legacy of one of the greatest americans of all time.  

2)  have u ever got hit on?

- i just asked a friend this and she gave me a pretty cool story.  she was at the library and asked a guy to watch her stuff while she went to the bathroom.  when she got back (she must have been taking a dump), her stuff was gone, so she went to the front desk to inquire.  lo and behold, her stuff was waiting there for her, because the guy had to leave and wanted to make sure her laptop and books were looked after.  relieved, she opened her laptop and inside was a poem for her and the guy's number.  A for effort and creativity.... but ultimately he failed.  

3)  how long does it take you to get dressed in the morning?

- ask this to a girl and watch her spout half-truths... "oh, usually not that long but i mean, sometimes it takes me a little while, but that depends on blahbalhblahbalh."  it takes me two minutes to get dressed...  but i wear the same thing every day.

4)  do you like california?

-  if the person says "yes", the conversation will get boring really quickly.  but if the person says "no", then it's clearly because of californians.... cuz everything else about california is verifiably awesome.  then, you will know this person is awesome.

- another question you can ask is, "have you ever lived outside of california?  how did you like it?"  it kind of gets to the same thing.

5) how can they make women's basketball more fun to watch?

- if you've ever seen a women's basketball game on ESPN or something, you'll think you're watching high schoolers.  no knock on women, but they just don't move as fluidly as NBA players, and the game isn't as beautiful to watch.  this question walks the fine line between sexism and utilitarianism, since suggestions for improving the entertainment value of women's basketball usually presuppose some physical advantage men have over women.  i had this conversation with an ex-femenist today, and after i suggested they lower the rim to allow women to dunk, she said, "i'm getting really pissed off at you right now."  yikes!

6) do you think white people could ever understand barack obama's speech on race?

- if the answer is anything but "no", what you'll get is an uninformed, defensive attempt to downplay the impact that race has on our lives as individuals and in society.  if the answer is an emphatic "no", what you've got is someone who's been humbled by the impact race has on him or her and how it invariably defines people in ways too deep for us to realize explicitly most of the time.  

- the trick to this is it applies to white people as well.  if they answer "no", then either they're just honest and self aware, which is great.  or, they understand their place in american society as people who may never understand, but can always try to, which is cooler.  

7) what's worse - a self-righteous liberal, or an intolerant conservative?

- this question is awesome, but if you live on a college campus you're probably going to get a defensive answer.  i think you need to ask someone who you can't describe as a self-righteous liberal or an intolerant conservative.... so self-righteous conservatives and intolerant liberals are fair game.  my answer to this is that a self-righteous liberal is worse, even though in the end i probably agree with his/her views.  i'd much rather hang out with an intolerant conservative and just bear with his or her political or social stance.  (self righteous conservatives drive me crazy though...  think ann coulter)

8) do you like the rain?

- most people will answer "yes" because rain is romantic, but the next time it's raining, find that person and ask them again if they like being soggy and wet.  ask them if it's cool that they can't go outside without an umbrella and galoshes.  i guess rain is cool if you're a farmer and you need it for your crops, of you're in a desert and you're dying of thirst.  otherwise, rain sucks.

ok that's all i got for now.  any thoughts?  interesting questions? 

the worst songs to listen to when you're trying to concentrate

1) Lil Wayne - Workin Em

This is probably the most offensive song in my music library... too bad it's really catchy.  It's nearly impossible to do homework, read a book or do my prayers while listening to it.  

2) The Magnetic Fields - fido your leash is too long

most of my tunes are mellow and depressing, so when this kiddy-sounding song comes on, it always knocks me off course.  i either have to stop what i'm doing and endure the whole thing, or go through my songs and find something else to help me forget the stupid stupid intro.

3) justice - stress

"stress" was probably created to prevent people from enjoying their music.  it's sole purpose is to ask yourself why you have this song in your library, and get frustrated at the fact that you haven't deleted it yet.  but aside from those things, it's a decent song.  

americana for the people

1) fleet foxes - ragged wood
2) iron and wine + calexico - prison on route 41
3) teddy thompson - down low
4) gillian welch - red clay halo
5) red house painters - another song for a blue guitar
6) bonnie "prince" billy - lay and love
7) wilco - forget the flowers
8) teddy thompson - walking the floor over you
9) neko case - i missed the point
10) sufjan stevens - romulus
11) sun kil moon - salvador sanchez (acoustic)
12) damien jurado - i am the mountain
13) califone - wingbone
14) gillian welch - i dream a highway

taking requests.

rock star painters

someone's youtube rendition of red house painters' "have you forgotten".  the video's interesting but the song is good quality, which is why i'm posting it.  
Anyway, I was eating Wendy's in my car today while listening to this song, and I wondered why the heck they were called Red House Painters.  I figured it's because some musicians consider themselves musical artists, and if so, these guys would be red house painters....  meaning cheap ass house painters.  listening to this song, i'm pretty sure i'd hire these guys to paint my house.  they seem like good old american folks.

A side thought I had was, which americana artist would i feel most confident in their handiwork skills.  personally, i'd go with my man will oldham, as pictured.  he just looks like he came out of the ground, so he'll have no problem getting down and dirty in any household problem.  he'd have a ball cleaning the pool and fixing mili, our automatic pool cleaner that's always broken.  he'd hold down our outdoor furniture during torrential storms so they don't blow away, as they do now.  

what is americana...  americana is music rooted and grown in blue-collar soil, beaten by rain and baked under the sun.  it's pruned of insincerity yet it's harvested in bulk, in prolific harvests of song after song from some head or heart.  it's like wheat, a crop so uninteresting yet a staple in our everyday diet.  we all consume it whenever we hear a story, or when someone strums her guitar.  the presence of the sound is like the beginning of a story, and it's heard, and it fades away and then ends.  and then another strum, another song, another bushel of wheat.  and it's all happening amidst pop music, indie rock, electronica and hip hop.  americana is so obvious that it's hidden.  we all recognize a folk song within a few seconds, but it's a partitioned activity, shelved for an open-mic or cafe experience. so for those who are working the farms, tilling the fields, they're doing so with john cage-like freedom.  that it's ingestible is the surprise.
i've noticed here in california that people, especially the privileged, are really individualistic.  they rarely ask others' opinions on anything, but expect everyone to hear their own.  they champion social and environmental issues, but they don't particularly care about their neighbor.  every week, my classmates and i ask what we did the past weekend.  it's probably the most boring conversation i have that week.  i don't know why we even care to ask... and i'm not passing judgment or complaining.  i'm just noticing these stark differences between conversations here and anywhere else i lived.  and anywhere else, the utility of the conversation is in the interaction, not the information.  here, individualism is so cherished that they'd rather err on the side of indifference rather than a true acceptance of others' opinions and beliefs.... so they don't even ask about them. 
but the not so privileged, from my experience, are not bereft of hardship.  which means they're not left to find the next social cause to rally behind or to search for the next nature-y activity.  sure, they give a shit about the environment, but they lack the guarded pretense and isolationism that not-so-subtly hides behind (and um... defines) the liberal, educated, "laid-back" californian.  for me, talking to the tow truck driver was the highlight of my day.  he actually asked me if i golfed before he went off about his golfing exploits.  he wasn't embarrassed to say he broke three clubs in one frustrating day on the course... but he wasn't showing off either.  he was just him, and that quality is hidden from me when i go to class and hang out with students and professors.
this all makes sense in my head, so bear with me.  when i listen to americana, the part in me that longs to hear a meaningful story begins to resonate, and it shakes off the pretense of having to laugh at people who aren't funny or my tiresome nodding listening to some guy's weekend expedition.  the voice, the guitar, it's the opposite of indifference and falsity.  it's elemental, it's a story.  when i listen to will oldham, i hear a real person singing.  his voice breaks and cracks as if you asked your friend to sing you a song unrehearsed.  he sounds like the soil, battered by the wind and the sun.  when i listen to califone, i hear real instruments and real guitars, rattling, vibrating the air.  the air!  when do we ever consider the air through which sound travels, except when we can feel its space through the sparseness of sounds.  
the ground, the air, the elements that speak through folk songs, they level people.  it's like living in cleveland, where we all deal with the same 5 month winter.  that common experience levels the high and mighty, so hills and valleys are not so disparate.  in california, on a university campus where recycling is more important than listening, we are leveled by a common experience that americana brings.  we can hear hopeless winters in folk music.  we share the stories and experiences of a common struggle when we listen to each fading song, or strum or lyric.  

home alone

most of my posts are either about solitude or how i've befriended stuffed animals/tv show characters, or all of the above. this one is no different. i've been home alone for about a week since my parents went to hawaii. i spent all of last weekend sitting on the couch, pigging out on food and grading papers. i guess i could be doing that even with my parents at home, but it's a different level of sloth when ur half-naked and by yourself.

a more detailed recap of my weekend is as follows:

harry potter. they were playing the first 3 potters on consecutive nights, and i happen to catch all of them. (what's more pathetic is that on the second and third nights, they played the previous nights' movie(s), so by the third night i watched all 3 potters in a row). anyway, i've said this before and i'll say it again.... the third installment, the prisoner of azkaban, is by far the best harry potter movie to date. i think the first two were too expansive in plot whereas the third one was relatively simple. also, the tone is more mature and there are actual scary moments. the only bad thing about the prisoner of azkaban is that every time harry faints, the screen goes black, and that happens about 20 times in the movie. also, harry is frequently offered chocolate by professor lupin whenever he wakes up from a fainting spell (no pun intended) with no real explanation other than, "it really helps." why does it help???

bourne identity/ultimatum - i rented the bourne ultimatum on itunes and watched it one night. it was totally hyped by everyone who said it was the best bourne movie and really entertaining and all that. yeah it was okay but after i rewatched the bourne identity on tnt this weekend, i really think that's the superior movie. i know i know, bold statement, but by the third installment we already know bourne is going to kick major azz, whereas in the first movie, we don't really know what he's capable of and we're figuring it out as he does. granted, the movie falls flat after about an hour in, but that first hour sure is cool.

the cavs - they are awesome, and i can't wait to get danny gibson back to shoot them threes. there was one particular moment of awkwardness/hilarity during the bulls/cavs game after wally z hit a clutch 3 pointer. he hits the shot, then runs down court screaming in glee for the whole length of the floor. i mean, i understand an emphatic howl or something, but he just looked a little kid running to give a gift to his dad (minus the kid tripping and falling and breaking the gift.... that was the saddest moment of my life).

van helsing vs underworld vs blade - tnt had some kind of vampire movie marathon this weekend and i happened to catch all three of their highlighted movies... multiple times. i'd say i enjoyed all three equally, so it was great being able to switch from van helsing on TNTHD to underworld on regular TNT and then to blade on TNTHD after van helsing ended, back to blade 2 on regular TNT. watching two vampire movies concurrently is a great and easy way to pass 6 hours of what otherwise could have been a productive day.

i don't really remember the other shows i watched, but those will do for now. next weekend ought to be a little more eventful.... i told my friends at davis that i can afford an expensive trip to colorado for a weekend cuz i don't spend any money sitting at home every other weekend. man.... this post is really sad. oh well!

bagpipez

i've got bagpipes on the mind. no, not jeff bagwell aka jeff bagpipes. i'm talking about scottish bagpipes, particularly a set played by a little girl outside my house on nice afternoons. every once in a while i'll hear the high-pitched whine of scottish melodies in my house... and lo and behold, it'll be the same little girl in the park, standing in her scottish gear playin those pipes. at first it was a true wtf moment but i guess i'm used to it.

i notice these peculiarities about my development because, on weekends, i rarely leave the house. that's pretty amazing since there's not much to do here, but i occupy myself with tv, the wire, lost and eating. and because i am eating, i feel like i'm doing something productive (that is, getting bigger). unfortunately [getting bigger] = .1[eating]^.1. actually it's more like [g]=.1[eating]^.1[working out]^.4[somehow slowing down my metabolism]^.5. cobb douglas ftw.

econ is lame. but what if i stay here an extra year, doing econ-related things? it is a possibility. i read on my friend's blog about this mit study about how having too many options keeps us from choosing the best option or something like that. that's subtly very intuitive if you think about it in terms of cost-benefit. if you choose a really good option, you could be missing out on all those other things you could be doing, and you're actually worse off than the guy who only has two options and chooses the better one... cuz his opportunity cost was lower.

ok that is all for now. i'm going to venture out to a cool cafe... one where everyone stares at you when u walk in, silently judging you. i'll fit right in.

better things

i've been pretty negative lately, but today got me thinking. it's time for me to start focusing on the positives because, really life isn't all that bad. for instance, take the pictures i posted a few weeks ago, the ones of the beautiful california sky. well, it turns out the sky is like that every night. and every day this week has been 60 degrees and sunny. really there's no room for complaint when you're walking around in flip flops and short sleeves under a bright sunny sun. i mean, isn't nature the grandest of all wonders and most beautiful of beauties? i get to enjoy as much of it as i want, and that's a great thing. my smiling carrot friend thinks so.

speaking of sun, i eat sunnyside up eggs at least once a week. other days i eat over-medium or scrambled eggs or omelets. sometimes i just go with a banana and nature's valley peanut bar. or a toasted bagel with peanut butter. and everything with a tall glass of fattening milk. the point being here is that breakfast is awesome, and living at home is great because the fridge is always stocked with fresh ingredients. nevermind that i buy all the ingredients and i could have eaten breakfast in college if i woke up earlier, but at least the kitchen is really clean.

i bought a scale the other day. my dad saw it and, after a look of astonishment, asked why i had to get such a sexy one. but other than being sexy, it measures my weight, which i record in an excel sheet that i've simply labeled "Regimen". i've been noticing an upward trend as of a few days ago. lately i've been battling some 'rhea so there was a slight decline... but over a few months it'll be a fine little data set. maybe i can write a thesis on it.

tv on the computer

a few months ago, about a week before christmas, i downloaded the pilot episodes of the hit tv series LOST to kill some time. i figured it was worth dropping a few bucks on a show that millions of americans apparently enjoy, a consensus agreed upon by fans also bought LOST episodes from iTunes:

"Bought the pilot episode just to see what video looked like on my brand new ipod... it was one of the best or worst decisions i've ever made.... All told, i've watched the entire 25 episode season in under a week. I'm $50 poorer, my kitchen is filthy, and i'm pretty sure my kids have forgotten what i look like.... this is crack disguised as a tv show."

in other words, LOST sounded exactly like what i was looking for, and it delivered. by the end of the first season, i felt like i made new friends. jack, charlie, hurley, even kate. they were my buddies, and i was with them through thick and thin. when jack freaked out seeing his dad, i freaked out in turn. when something new is revealed to a character, i feel their shock, their pain, their pathos. and by the end of season three, in that pivotal, memorable, heart-breaking season finale, a part of me was laid to rest. my friends were to be saved and life was to resume... both for them and for me. here's a picture of charlie looking very rockstarish.


but some time in between christmas and the season 4 premier (yes, i watched all three seasons of lost in a week), i needed another tv fix. as much as i missed charlie, i needed new friends. something to ease the dull and painful repetition of each meaningless day. and i found it in the form of this:


lol. jkjervy:


the wire. i've heard a lot of hype about this show so i decided to watch the first season. for those of you not in the know, the wire is an HBO series that's been heralded as the best show on TV ever. it's about the drug game in baltimore and the cops that try to stop it. my favorite character is omar, the gay gangster that kills at will, snitches to the police and still manages to stay alive. and also bubbles, the junkie informant who life just hates. the street is dangerous but alive. the police though, they're a machine clogged by guys trying to get to the top.

the wire, being a tv show rooted in reality, got me thinking. how can the drug lords be so efficient and elusive, and the police system be so convoluted? how can we stop the cycle of degeneracy - through political programs, better/more cops, tougher sentencing... or through subtle detective work and grassroots work towards justice?

but the main lesson from the wire is this: stay out of baltimore. as much as i love my new friends omar and bubbles, i wouldn't want to hang out with them in real life. especially not omar. whether that's a race, class or sexual orientation issue, who knows. here he is. hi omar.


i'm excited for season two of the wire and also the next episode of season 4 of lost. i'm also excited that the writer's strike might be over, so LOST will continue. i'm excited because these are my real friends now. omar, bubbles, charlie, jack, sawyer. my only friends.

life

this is my life. from the top left, clockwise: my beloved bear, returning from his stay in my mom's bedroom b/c she was sick. in the background, my green bag and scarf that i use every day. then a pair of 15 pound dumbbells. i don't usually use those but i have been working out more at the gym. in the foreground is a stapler because students don't staple their homework, but fold the edges over as if that's supposed to keep the papers together. next to that is the wrapper of a clif bar i just ate, and a cup of tea i just drank. a calculator because i can't add, then a giant stack of homework i haven't graded, and finally the small, never-growing stack of finished hw.

this isn't life!!

i flew into space

this night i drove through thick fog, passing slow-moving cars on my right. the highway ahead of me was empty, and the road sloped upwards as if cars were meant to launch from the peak, right into space. i could see maybe ten feet of road ahead of me, and the rest was white fog. so i drove up and up and up with no idea how high i was. at some point i must have been midair, whisked up by viscous fog and no gravity, flying over the fecundity of grass fields and walnut groves and strawberries, all the way to my house where my mom and dad were waiting for me.

normally when i drive through fog at night, i scare myself into thinking some zombie boy is standing just ahead in the middle of the street. i play through the situation several times, and usually conclude that the best thing to do is to just keep driving, to pile through anyone standing there and not look back. but sometimes i think that i should stop and get out, that my life is not worth saving at the risk of not saving someone else's, and that the worst thing that could happen is a quick trip to heaven for me. this alternate mindset comes from my cousin, who was so brave walking around at night. i asked him if he got scared, and he said he wasn't afraid because of God. i was ten at the time. he has a four year old now.