the art of the mix tape (or) what i'm doing when i'm not blogging. of course i'm talking CD mixes here. who the hell listens to tapes anymore? well. i do. but that's besides the point. anyhow. a CD can fit seventy four minutes worth of music. that's over an hour's worth, if my calculations are correct. and i think they are, despite my "hey, i'm asian but i didn't get a 800 SAT math score" level. an hour is a long time. when you give a CD to someone, you're giving them something they have to enjoy for 1/24th of their day. it's a big responsibility. i personnally like to adhere to a one to two ratio for how much time i use to create a mix. if it's an one hour mix, a half hour should be spent on careful song selection. a step by step guide. because i know you care.



step one you need to pick a theme. perhaps even a sub-theme. my themes are usually always the same since i'm close minded and listen exclusively to my preferred genres. it's a personality flaw, shoot me. but with these limited themes, the sub-theme becomes even more important. for example, hip hop comes in all flavors. party hip hop, groovy hip hop, chill hip hop, underground hip hop, mainstream hip hop...you could sub-categorize forever. the key is to pick a theme and a consistent sub-theme.



step two usually, step one was decided long ago. maybe in the shower, maybe in the car, maybe while falling asleep the previous night. wherever inspiration happened to hit, this step is recognized as the true beginning of the mix tape creation process. this step is about picking the artists. pick the relevant artists now, and it will be very helpful in narrowing song choices later. thus saving you time. and time is money, as we're taught. advance planning doesn't just happen automatically. foresight my friend, is 20/20. anyhow. pick your artists wisely. the artists make the music. literally.



step three scroll down your list of thousands of MP3s, grabbing relevant songs. what? don't have MP3s? you need to start downloading while everything is still free. believe me. it saves you lots of money. if you don't have a computer. well. you might as well skip this entry. actually, you can come use my computer if you want. or maybe hong's if he's nice.



step four narrowing down the song list to fit within the constraints of one CD is tough. you invariably end up with a billion and one songs. go down the list. pare off all dead weight. remember the sub-theme(s). if a song doesn't fit. acquit. set it free.



essential tips for step four have no more than two songs from any particular artist. unless the sub-theme happens to be an artist. this will provide some variety. because variety, as we all know, is the spice of life. in a typical seventeen track setup: pick one totally old school song. to make them go, "whoa, that's SO old!" pick one or two songs that are your personal favorites. but kind of low key. to give it a little piece of you. pick one or two songs by mainstream artists. so their ears will perk up at a familiar tune. but not too many. otherwise you get "now that's what i call music 5,003." religiously avoid anything that might be overplayed. unless you know they love it. try to find one or two remixes. something a little familiar but different. you'll be rewarded with eternal happiness. i guarantee it. don't try to mix things songs that don't naturally mix. there is always a track that will stick out like a sore thumb. you may not notice it right away. but it's there. hunt it down. chop it off. the mix will be that much leaner and cleaner.



step five just as crucial as the actual song selections is the order you put them in. key key key. make sure there is a rhythm to your CD. in general, if you have a mix of different tempo-ed songs, you need to intersperse the fast songs to juice things up. but not too much juice. and don't put more than two slow songs next to each other. to avoid lulling the listener to sleep. don't put the same artist back to back. that's a party foul. start the mix off with something catchy, but not mainstream. put one mainstream song near the beginning (track three or four) and another near the middle (track nine is nice). end with something that is kind of soft. don't close with something energy inducing. after your initial order is set, listen to snippets of each song so you can ensure that the track order will make sense. and to make sure that the whole thing as a whole is aesthetically pleasing. success rests your judgement. people are depending on you. don't be doing other things, like talking or having a life, during this stage. crucial crucial crucial. your unwavering attention is needed at all times, especially now. tune out, or turn off, other audio sources. "noise" as we like to call it in the industry.



step six last of all. pop in a ninety nine cent CD and burn to your little heart's delight. give the mix a whirl on your own system. how does it sound? does it need a few tweaks? maybe a change or two? don't hesistate to correct the mistakes. to re-burn is human. crap cds make nice coasters. don't feel guilty about "wasting." when the final product is done, name your cd something exciting. preferably something abstract and memorable. maybe even something witty. or cheeky. if you're in the mood, and really, who isn't? put some stickers on the CD. or create a label. or just leave the whole face blank. like brown paper packaging. anonymous, yet curiously appealing.



to the recipient NEVER use the shuffle function on your CD player. that would defeat the whole purpose of this whole ordeal. don't do it. it would be like pouring ketchup over a great chef's creation. listen to it the way it was designed. if you hate it...coaster.



of course. another option is to just throw all the songs you like onto random CDs and have it all mixed together like audio potpourri. but c'mon. don't you want to waste more time in front of the computer like i do? that *thud* you just heard wasn't my "life" suddenly collapsing. it's my mix tape landing at your doorstep.....

top five most versatile songs be put on hip hop mix tapes

got till it's gone (janet jackson)

afterparty (koffee brown)

music (erick sermon)

summertime in the lbc (dove shack)

life goes on (tupac)

What mad Nijinsky wrote

About Diaghilev

Is true of the normal heart

For the error bred in the bone

Of each woman and each man

Craves what it cannot have

Not universal love

But to be loved alone

-w.h. auden, september 1, 1939-

i get really bossy sometimes. mostly with videogames though. well. no. that's not true. just when i'm watching somebody do something. and i feel like i know what i'm doing. which is rarely. but as hard as it is to believe, there are times when i feel like i know what i'm doing. actually. no. i take the last few lines back. i'm am only bossy when i watch people play videogames. i'm a horrible person. i know.



all this came about because i was watching one of the salesmen play diablo. and i was just itching to tell him to do this, or to do that. and i would yell out, all panicked, "hurry! eat the potion! eat the potion! you're gonna die!" and then it occured to me that maybe he's not eating the potion because he just wants to spite me. because i'm being too bossy. damn. he WAS dying though. just trying to be helpful.

Naive:

(1) Lacking worldly experience and understanding, especially: simple and guileless. unsuspecting or credulous.

(2) Showing or characterized by a lack of sophistication and critical judgment.

(3) One who is artless, credulous, or uncritical.



Cynic:

(1) A person who believes all people are motivated by selfishness.

(2) A person whose outlook is scornfully and often habitually negative.

(3) A member of a sect of ancient Greek philosophers who believed virtue to be the only good and self-control to be the only means of achieving virtue.



It's cool now. To be cynical. It's the in-thing for my generation. Being naive means being young again. To be a child. To have all four basic food groups covered by breakfast. With a bowl of cocoa puffs, an eggo and a 10% real fruit strawberry popsicle. Doesn't that sound nice?

posted by The Wizard



But it also means to not be worldy. And to be unable to make sophisticated and critical judgements. Do you really want that? Children are naive and can be forgiven for it. But adults trade in their naivete for a bite of the forbidden fruit, thus gaining wisdom and the ability to differentiate between good and evil. Plus, you hate cocoa puffs...

posted by Tin Man



Is that really a good thing? (Meaning the cynicism, not the cocoa puffs, but thanks for reminding me) We just learn how to not get hurt when we're cynical. How to close ourselves off. And we learn that the world is a far scarier place than we ever imagined, even without the closet monsters and freaky bedroom lurkers from our childhood. I think it might be easier in the long run to try being uncritical and credulous.

posted by The Wizard



Show me an uncynical twenty year old and I'll show you a giant squid.

posted by Tin Man



What?

posted by The Wizard



Exactly.

posted by Tin Man



Drugs and alchohol don't mix man. Don't forget that.

god and me: part 143. so i'm not quite understanding this "love thy neighbor" thing. if we are to assume love for everyone and turn the other cheek because we are all sinners, then how come there is a heaven and hell? god doesn't love everyone if some people are chosen to take a fiery bath. for eternity. unless he does love everyone. and only through our own sins and moral ineptitude, we slip and slide into hell. (do you think god loves the people in hell?) but then is it only up to god to judge? because he is all powerful? and we mere mortals are not given the power to judge others? this makes sense. because man is fragile and often, incorrect. so the safe route is to love everyone unequivocally, so that we don't sully our consciences or our fates. thus leaving it up to god to make the final judgement on "good" and "bad." it's a good deal? isn't it?



but god clearly lays out guidelines for good and bad. the sins are all written down in the bible. do enough sinning, and you should be judged "bad," even by human standards. but yet we are told to turn the other cheek, and not judge. at all. instead we are to love, despite the despicableness of "the neighbor." how does that work? i suppose this is called, "trusting god."



i'm losing myself. i'll come back when i'm coherent.

top five christian songs

worlds apart (jars of clay)

what if i stumble (dc talk)

christ in me (praise song)

take my hands (the kry)

one voice (praise song)

got my sheep on tonite. sheep on a stick. fatty sheep pieces. sheep cartilage. sheep kidney. sheep testicle? whoo-e. everything was spiced up and kabobed out. and it was all super cheap. wandered into the real backstreets of beijing and got me some "chinese" food. they don't waste no body parts here. if god made it, the chinese eat it. it's all part of the cultural exchange. they were worried that i might get an "upset" stomach but my stomach acids did their job admirably and i'm not physically any worse off than before. if anything, i'm healthier because according to chinese tradition, whatever you eat helps to heal that body part. so i chewed that cartilage extra fast to heal my knee. and well, the testicles. i didn't want to eat those. but hey, you only live once.

boom selection is supposed to have lots of illicit remixes. i hope it's good. i love my remixes (can we say lyrics of the thong song set to billie jean? yes we can. well, amit hates it. but i like the novelty) but i can't see this site here in firewall land. so someone tell me if it's cool.



in other web surfing news (which is what i do all day for a good ten hours), missing matter is about intelligent stuff. not sure how intelligent. but intelligent. and slacker bonding is about. slackers. does reading about other slackers make you a slacker plus one? now we'll know. and if you want to pretend to be a DJ (who doesn't nowadays), go download PCDJ and fade music in and out to your little hearts delight. and flick the light switch on and off real fast so you can pretend you're having a real big party. or you can go steal the two hundred dollar red version to record your stuff and pass along parties-to-go to all of your friends. at least that's what i would do if i could figure out how to record on the damn thing. moving right along. robot street gang is chock full of essays about videogames. i love it. and you can't beat the onion for great stories. also, why oh why when you go to cnnsi is there a featured mark madsen bobble head doll as incentive to subscribe? first off, he's a nasty laker. second. it's mark madsen. i don't get it. then again, the less of kobe and shaq the better. to end all this link craziness, i have to admit that i straight up stole most of these sites from shift magazine. i'm a pirate. argh.



"get a life, get a life" is the sad sad chorus to my life. sing it loud. sing it proud.

this is what happens now when i have a cigarette. i take a pack out of my pocket. currently a bright red chinese pack emblazoned with a holographic "good fortune". because damn, if you smoke, you're gonna need it. (there's a chinese brand here called "long life." i find that quite funny. great marketing gimmick too. i can see the ads already, with all the eighty year old people promoting the brand. "we smoked long life and we're still alive!!!" stop me someone.) anyhow, it's the "king size" pack which means it's regular size. even cigarette companies are doing the fast food things nowadays. sad.



after leaving it for awhile on the desk, i decide it'll be okay to have one. so i pull out a juicy stick of portable lung cancer--not the lucky flipped one mind you-- and admire it's perfectly filtered tip. i miss the parliament filter things. i dig around for a lighter in my pockets, light the damn thing up....and then hate it. i get nauseated, i get woozy, i get dizzy. i stub the damn thing out after five or six or nine puffs. i can't stand the taste. i get up, get a cup of juice, wash my hands and promise to not smoke again. plus, i'm starting to ball again, so i shouldn't smoke anymore. not that non-smoking helps me any on the court. for a guy who's played basketball since middle school you would think i could hit a basket once in awhile. i defy the axiom "practice makes perfect" everytime i throw up a shot. the *clank* is spiritually redeeming though.



anyway. this cigarette process happens three or four times a day. and i hate it. but i kid myself into thinking, "maybe this time will be different, maybe it'll be really good this one..." if it's this hard to stop, imagine if cigarettes tasted like candy. then where would i be?

my hair is starting to get to that "decisive" stage. it's about two inches long. a bit wooly. a lot fuzzy. and i need to figure out what to do with it. i wish i had super thick hair. so i could do cool things with it. like spike it. or dread it. or fro it. but i don't. i just have nasty normal asian boy hair that grows straight up. it's depressing. but the time of truth is almost at hand. i can now train it to do things. go forward, sweep backward, sit, heel, roll over, that type of thing. i have to decide soon because if i just let it grow without careful supervision and forethought, i'll end up with nasty resilient weed on my head and i'll have to shave it again. which i am loathe to do after months of cultivating it for business purposes.



my dream of being tan and bald are put on hold yet again. actually no. my dream is to have dreads. that ain't gonna happen anytime soon however. oh what to do. what to do. with great hair comes great responsibility.

just went to astrocenter for my horoscope. the page can't be found. error 404 or some shit like that. it won't even come out if i hit *refresh* what does it all mean? there could be massive ramifications here. i feel like the third tenor....

"It just seems like, you agree to have a certain personality or something. For no reason. Just to make things easier for everyone. But when you think about it, I mean, how do you know it's even you? And, I mean, this whole thing with yearbook -- it's like, everybody's in this big hurry to make this book, to supposedly remember what happened. Because if you made a book of what really happened, it'd be a really upsetting book."



ho smack. there is a my so called life dvd set. with all nineteen episodes. do you know what this means?!? nope. neither do i. but anyhow. i want one. i think i missed out on the limited edition special lunchbox packaging but that's okay, i'll live. i however, won't live if i don't have the set. it's only a buck fifteen. that's not so bad. that works out to less than ten dollars per episode to own the best show ever. i won't lie. i don't have a hundred and fifteen dollars. heck. i owe that amount plus a few zeroes to angry creditors nationwide. but i am willing to sacrifice the bare necessities to own this set. actually no. but i'll plead and beg and kowtow. i might even resort to outright stealing. but that's not good. because i have morals somewhere. so i'll try to buy them first (the DVDs, not the morals). shit. i don't even have a credit card to buy this online. george. some help here? it's our birthdays in a few short months. plus you didn't get me anything when we were three, time to make up for that.....hurry. buy it now and i'll pay you back for it, along with the other few hundreds i owe you. hurry! once i get them we'll have a sleep over party. but pissant ain't invited. cuz i remember you making fun of the show. bastard. everyone else can come though. i'm not gay. really.



"Love is when you look into someone's eyes and suddenly you go all the way inside, to their soul, and you both know instantly. I always imagined I'd fall in love nursing a blind soldier who was wounded in battle. Or maybe while rescuing someone in the middle of a blizzard, seconds before the avalanche hits. I thought at least by the age of 15 I'd have a love life, but I don't even have a like life."

one year ago. about this time. i was just starting this blog. i was in classes at baruch. i started to use my i-zone. i was learning how to use illustrator for andri and mike's blogs. i loved the fast and the furious. i was agonizing over whether or not to stay in new york. or to jet and finish school at michigan.



today. i'm in china. i'm still unfinished with school. i have a giant collection of mini one inch pictures. i've wasted billions of hours on blogs. i haven't seen any movies because again, i'm in china. i am still agonizing. over what to do after i finish school. which will hopefully happen by the end of december. right now i'm heading back to do a summer term at ucsd. and then a final fall semester at either ucsd, or if things work out, ucla. after that, the world is my oyster. but not really. i could stay on and try to figure out something to do with the company. but quite honestly, i've decided that i probably won't be very happy about it if i stay. but then again, even after a degree, i won't have any more skills than what i possess now. and what i have now won't get me a decent job anywhere. and so if i might be slightly unhappy doing flutes, at least i'll be doing something. and there are no guarantees that i'll be happy with what i might end up with.



it's at this point i should really be thinking about what a career might consist of. on the evolutionary ladder of "being grown up," i'm halfway between "hopelessly lost before thirty" and "hopelessly lost after twenty one." i really should try to decide something to do. but most of my life decisions come about from endless amounts of procrastination. until i'm stuck with only this or that option, and in a flash of inspiration, i suddenly choose something else entirely. i should stop doing that. i know. not much has changed in a year. just the window dressing. but the products are all the same. i need to be shopping in a new store.

i think it's kyle's twenty first today. i could be wrong. but i hope not. anyhow. happy birthday kyle! the best way to support his twenty one-ness is not to buy him drinks. because the boy doesn't drink. instead send him that drink money in cash so he can hoard it and buy a lugnut or something for his civic.

I think I'm gonna make one final push to finish up school and get my damn degree. It'll take a few months, but I've decided that if I don't hurry up and do it, I'll never finish. Whoever said degrees were important anyway? Sheesh.

posted by The Wizard



Well. I'm happy you're deciding to finally get officially recognized for your "hard work." Like your mom says, without that paper, you're no better than a high school graduate. You know where high school graduates end up right?

posted by Tin Man



Flute factories?

posted by The Wizard



No. They end up serving french fries from the bottom rung of the social ladder. Your parents didn't spend a hundred fifty thousand dollars on your education for you to end up wearing funny hats.

posted by Tin Man



Didn't the Scarecrow realize at the end of The Wizard of Oz that he had the brains all along and that the paper meant nothing?

posted by The Wizard



Well. He had the brains the whole way along but he still took the damn degree didn't he?

posted by Tin Man



Um. Good point.

everytime i've been to the factory, there's been a different cook for the manager's dining room. the first time it was this really old guy who would be way too eager to please. he would be asking if the dishes were okay, if there was too much this, not enough of that. whatever. he would stand attentively near the table while everyone sat down to eat. he was apparently getting too old so he left. the next guy was a young chinese lad, in the middle of culinary school and he was kind of cool. he used green peppers in every other dish but it was okay, because i love green peppers. i think he had to go because he was just too lackadaisical. if the first cook was too attentive, this guy wasn't attentive enough.



this time back, there is another cook. he's maybe early forties and he is again, too attentive. i guess he's only been here a few weeks and so he's trying to make sure everything is okay, but all that attention gets kind of grating. i don't like it when people seem to feel that they have to do too much. i can wash my own bowl thank you very much. also, i guess because i'm the owner's son, i feel that i get too much attention. usually, attention isn't a bad thing. but it's again, very grating. he's very nice though. and a good cook. he served up something that looked like elephant's toes or something. i didn't ask what it was. i just ate it. which is pretty much standard policy when we eat here. don't ask. just eat.

jesus christ superstore. funny in that "gee, that's so wrong! *snicker*snort*snicker*" kind of way.

this is way cool. it's a guest book with a little guestmap so that people can pin from all over the world. i feel like i'm selling my soul but hey, if you're bored, pin yourself! i think i'm gonna use it as a travelogue. fun....

"According to China's latest census, 116.9 Chinese boys were born for every 100 girls in 2000 -- up from an already alarming 'sex ratio at birth' of 111.3 boys in 1990. Both figures are well above the 105-107 boys for every 100 girls considered normal worldwide. In the USA, there were 104.8 boys born in 2000 for every 100 girls."



basically what this means is that, if you can't get no action in the states, don't come a-knocking here! these numbers may also help to explain why everytime we go out it's a freaking sausage party.



"Most of the millions of men who will go unmarried over the next two decades are China's ''losers in societal competition."



i like how the "losers in societal competition" is in quotes. as if to say that it's okay to be not married. but c'mon, we men get the hint. we'll be losers if we don't marry...no need to patronize us with spiffy quotation marks.

"It's not fair," Vincent Chin whispered as he faded into a coma. Hours before, he had been beaten with a baseball bat by two white out-of-work autoworkers, Ronald Ebens and Michael Nitz. Four days later, June 23, 1982, Vincent Chin would die.



The killers blamed "the Japanese" for the state of the then-struggling American automotive industry and had mistaken Chin, a Chinese American, for a man of Japanese descent. Before the beating, witnesses heard the autoworkers yell, "It's because of you little motherf*****s that we're out of work."

(courtesy of tolerance.org)

i'm curious if everyone (and i use everyone very very broadly) gets here through hyperwest or through direct links from their own page? comment back on this to make me happy. or don't. and i'll smile stupidly in my ignorance.



here to plug blogs: go see suj, he's in spain. go see leslie. she's finally got a blog. let me emphasize the finally. kathy's the roaring epicenter of a blog metropolis. go see it. michelle gets fifteen hits a day even though she never updates. how is that possible? i have no idea. but hey. i'm not that smart. amit is about to quit work. and he and karina are telling us about their favorite places. pz now lives at the vatican. i'm not sure what the reference is to. but i'm sure it'll all make sense when i find out. victor is pondering the purpose of life back in san diego. listen in as howie talks to his dog. grace is in north carolina. she's bored. obviously. jenny is undergoing conniptions. chick n duck and archetypical need love too. they're lonely. for quasi-intelligent discourse go to the parking lot. where me and derek hang out. i think louis needs to blog. don't you?



ok. the juice is loose. i'm done pimping. bye. oh wait. one more. if you like lord of the rings. and really, who doesn't. some fictional diaries written by someone i don't know. but they're funny as hell.

Do you think jealousy's a bad thing?

posted by The Wizard



Of course. Jealousy's terrible. It's the evil green eyed monster. If jealousy wasn't bad, it would be the pink fluffy bunny.

posted by Tin Man



You're dumb. Well. That much is obvious. Do you think jealousy can be good though? I mean, when someone is jealous over you, doesn't that make you feel a little elated?

posted by The Wizard



Jealousy is a sign of insecurity and possession. That's not good. To me, being jealous is assuming that someone is yours, and that their actions have to be filtered through you first. I'm not for that. I mean, it's cute when someone gets jealous over you. Because you know they care, but I would rather have them express that care in other ways. Besides, jealousy just ruins things.

posted by Tin Man



I think it might be possible to have jealousy without insecurity. I mean, you can be a tiny bit jealous over something, even though you are secure in your relationship. Jealousy is only bad when the actions stemming from it are harmful.

posted by The Wizard



Like fights and arguments and yelling. Those are bad. I still think it's possible to eliminate all jealousy however. Or to feel it and then deal with it immediately.

posted by Tin Man



What about the oft cited argument that if you love something enough, you'll want to be protective of it, and thus jealous?

posted by The Wizard



I think that's bull. If you love it, you'll set it free.

posted by Tin Man



What happens if you set it free and it walks out?

posted by The Wizard



You cry and sob and drink alot.

posted by Tin Man



Oh.

coolest guy ever? or makes me look like i have a life? you decide...



(thanks to no-sword)

i want to run a four-two forty. i want to be a deep threat. i want to meekly tiptoe out of bounds. as you flail into the gatorade. i want to catch everything thrown in my direction. i want you to throw the pig bladder as far as you can. while i sprint as fast as i can. while people ooh and aah and hold their breath. while i dive for a thrilling touchdown. a hundred and ten yards down the field.



i want to wear thick padding and tight pants. and be crowned with a helmet. two sizes too big for my slender neck. i want a breathe right nasal strip. i want cleats that grip really really well. i want to wear eye black. to look mean. and to keep the glare out of my eyes. i want to be paid millions to catch two balls a game. i want to be that prima donna. sitting on the bench. with the towel over my head. i want band-aids for all my ow-wies. and yours too. i want to have two good knees. i want to have a cool nickname. like prime time. i want to be posterized. i want you to slap my butt when i do something good. i want to go one on one with your best cover corner. i want to zig when you think i'll zag. i want to be a transcendent talent. i want to have bars of metal in front of my face . for protection. and if you get too close. the refs will call face masking. everytime.



dont chop block me. or bump and run me. i'll get mad.



i want to take every other play off. i want to stay out of the trenches. i want to avoid the beast lurking over the line of scrimmage. waiting to take my head off. i'm not going over the middle. i'm not a possession type of guy. i want to dance and taunt you. after i've burned you. i want everyone to be chasing me. just because i have the ball. i want to be on the cover. of oversized magazines. in the game of life. i want to pray hail marys. on every play. i want us to beat them. i want to go to the highest bidder. i want there to be bidders period. i want to retire when i'm twenty seven. at the top of my game. to a life of luxury and indulgence. i want the coach to scream "run faster you sonofabitch!" i want the sideline reporter to ask after the games. "how did you do it?"



i want to stop writing shit with so many "i"s.

solitary confinement (or) gee, it's really fucking dark in here. yesterday, they turned the lights out on me. not for some sick sadistic cruel-and-unusual punishment. but because the building needed something or other fixed. i'm not sure what. either way. i prepped myself by buying candles and a flashlight. and i bought bread. and peanut butter. but that was just for kicks.



i mentioned i'm all alone right? the sales manager is away...



anyhow. the lights were supposed to go out at eight. never happened. i was online until ten, wondering when the lights would go off. i was kind of looking forward to some time in perfect darkness. just me myself and my imagination. to think. to dream. to live again. good lord i'm full of shit. aniwaise. to prolong a short story. the lights didn't go off until eleven. and by then i was sleepy. so my planned search for enlightenment by candlelight was destroyed by the same forces that sparked it in the first place.



they are also pounding giant holes in the wall to create a closet. let me tell you how annoying that is. but i try to block it out. i'm good at that. tonight, the lights go off again. maybe this time they'll do it right and leave me creeped out on time. i'm also slightly afraid of the dark. but no matter. i'll talk to myself in different voices and pretend one of you guys is here with me. but if one of you does come to surprise me tonight. no touching. that'll just freak me out. i'll scream like a little girl. and i'm not kidding. so keep your hands to yourself.

I sit here on the stairs

'Cause I'd rather be alone

If I can't have you right now

I'll wait, dear

Sometimes I get so tense

But I can't speed up the time

But you know, love

There's one more thing to consider



Said, woman, take it slow

And things will be just fine

You and I'll just use a little patience

Said, sugar, take the time

'Cause the lights are shining bright

You and I've got what it takes

To make it, We won't fake it,

I'll never break it

'cause I can't take it

-guns n roses, patience-

people in china clash. or maybe it's just beijing. colors that should never be put together are recklessly mixed. brown and black. please, no more. dark blue and black. nasty. green and fuchsia? pink and maroon? orange and white? don't these people know anything about color theory?!? luckily i only brought white and khaki. no screwing that up. this everybody clashing thing might actually prove to be very liberating. i can wear whatever i want and feel good about it. i actually should feel this anyway, wherever i happen to be, but some colors don't flatter me. so i have to be careful. if i look like ass someone will tell me right? right?



oh and lots of people wear socks with sandals. fashion faux pas people! fashion. faux. pas. c'mon, you make fifty cents a day, you can afford to not wear socks with sandals. also, neon didn't actually die. it still has a mysterious afterlife on the backsides of chinese people everywhere. horizontal stripes are also very big here. i don't get that. maybe everyone is trying to look wider.



i know what you're saying: "people are trying to save money to eat jon! nobody has time and effort to coordinate a wardrobe! these people live in the third world!" oh right. what was i thinking. gosh i feel shallow.



also. mr bean is everywhere on tv. at the airports. on the bus. at the supermarket. they can't seem to get enough of him and his zany antics. i can't figure out if it's because he doesn't speak so there's no translation involved or if they like him because all foreigners seem this weird. then again, they might just have lots of bootlegged copies of mr bean lying around.

what it is about leaving a peanut butter sandwich overnight on an uncovered plate that leaves the bread all cold and nasty? why does it stay all nice and soft when still wrapped up in the plastic? someone explain this phenomenon to me. it's got something to do with the air. but then again, what doesn't?

This article talks about "Industry (the Tin Man), Agriculture (the Scarecrow), Military (the Lion), and Citizenry (Dorothy) as they make economic progress down a street backed by the gold standard, to reach the city of Ounce (oz.) which is green like money, wherein they find and then expose the fraudulent myths of Religion (The Great Oz)."

okay. so i read alot of random blogs. alot. it's like voyeurism. but not that nasty. actually. it's nothing like voyeurism. it's more like stalking. well. not that nasty either. i don't know what it is. but i do it. i like being able to observe people without them knowing. i guess that's stalking. or voyeurism. but enough semantics.



with people i know, it's just cool to see how they're doing and what they think. with people i don't know, it's cool to read about their lives and...learn. i suppose it's hard to meet lots of different people but by blogsnobbing you get to see people's lives played out in their own words. or you get to read the news. or you get to find cool stuff you would never normally know about. of course, 90% of blogs i run into suck but there are some that kind of call to you. i had a justification for looking at random people's blogs. but i lost it. either way. today i found a girl who is more into video games than just about any guy i know. and i found a dope blog design featuring gwen stefani. and a great name i wish i had thought of. and something cool that i can't really see because of my slow dial up connection. and it's barely past noon. i feel productive. even though i've done nothing except waste my time online.



i'm also kind of entranced by blog culture in general. every little bit of it. blogs help to negate the mundaneness of life. maybe.

the end-all-be-all guide to flirting. from a social science perspective. do you reciprocally disclose? maybe you should. how's your vocal signalling? not up to par? learn to do better. i will never have any opportunities to use this, but hey, maybe you will.

five stages to full hip hop immersion



(5) lauryn hill. wyclef. outkast.

(4) tribe called quest. black eyed peas.

(3) de la soul. mos def. pharcyde. talib kweli.

(2) jurassic 5. the roots. bahamadia. epmd.

(1) gangstarr. common. rakim. krs-one.

Soren Kierkegaard, a Danish philosopher, evolved a philosophical system which divided existence into three categories; that is, he claimed that experience may be of three kinds: aesthetic, ethical, and religious.



The child is an example of the individual who lives almost exclusively at the aesthetic level. For the child, all choices are made in terms of pleasure and pain, and experience is ephemeral, having no continuity, no meaning, but being merely a connection of isolated, non-related moments. The ethical level of experience involves choice; whenever conscious choice is made, one lives at the ethical level. At the religious level, one experiences a commitment to oneself, and an awareness of one's uniqueness and singleness. To live at the religious level means to make any sacrifice, any antisocial gesture that is required by being true to oneself.



Clearly, these levels are not entirely separable, but may coexist; when one chooses the aesthetic level of existence, the very act of choice involved ethical experience; and when one makes choices at the ethical level, and these choices are true to one's own singleness, one lives at the religious level.

posted by The Wizard



I think that's what I want. A life at the religious level. But I possess neither the conviction nor the strength to escape the aesthetic level. And so I'm, in truth, still bumbling about on the ethical level, with grandiose visions of a yet unseen religious level.

posted by The Wizard



I think that's why you have to respect and admire religious folk. Because if they are true, they are living a life that is full of conviction. Regardless of what you think about those convictions, the mere fact that they can committ is reason enough to applaud.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I¡¯ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

-robert frost, fire and ice-

i rode in a "three wheeled car" today. well, that's the direct translation from mandarin. it's really just a bike with a carriage behind it. it wasn't a rickshaw. those are different. rickshaws have no bikes. just mush mush people. anyhow, i rode in a man powered bike for the first time in my life and it was pretty cool. the weather right now is pretty much perfect in beijing. it's not too hot. kind of like a sultry warm. i apparently brought some rain and the weather has been beautiful for a week. that will soon end i'm sure. probably right around the time i move to the factory. the air condition-less factory i might add. anyway, i tried to open my eyes and see the streets of beijing on our bike ride. but dust kept on blowing into my gas permeable contacts and i was forced to squint. reality is really much less exciting than the imagination. one would think that a charming bike ride through the streets of beijing at dusk would be wonderful. but i was basically trying to keep my eyes from falling out. and i was wondering if the driver was going to bust a lung going uphill.



i also had a chance to mix with the locals on a bus the other day. i went to visit some flute shops with one of the salesmen and we stood on the corner, waiting for public transportation. i can't remember the last time i took a real bus. maybe last summer? with sher wing in new york? i'm not sure. how often do we use buses to get around in the city? almost never in my experience. i can't actually say that i experienced a real chinese bus ride because we took the nice buses. with air conditioning and TVs that blared britney spears pepsi commercials. still, i like to pretend that i was a local. riding on the bus to god knows where.

ever tried to figure out your feelings? but they keep running away? annoying. ever stubbed your toe on the ground and almost trip? repeatedly? annoying. ever tried to ration one cigarette for twelve hours? annoying. ever tried to find the on button for speakers? that may or may not be connected to your computer? annoying. ever tried to type when half the words keep on coming up in pinying? annoying. ever been in an office in the middle of beijing? alone? annoying.

It's been a long time since we last talked. Where you been?

posted by Tin Man



I haven't gone anywhere. I've just...lost that love and feeling.

posted by The Wizard



Gee, could you be more dramatic? Lost that love and feeling. Please. You never had that love and feeling.

posted by Tin Man



Here's my question of the day. Which do you think is honestly more important? Finding the perfect occupation or finding the right girl?

posted by The Wizard



Um. Tough one. Finding the right girl would be the obvious choice. Because love is rumored to outlast anything. But quite honestly, finding the perfect occupation seems like it would be much more fulfilling. And also, if you take things realistically, finding the perfect occupation is a billion times harder than finding the perfect girl. There are millions of girls. And lots of them attract you. There are only certain numbers of jobs that are attractive. Plus, with luck, girls come to find you sometimes. Jobs never come knocking.

posted by Tin Man



You make a good point there. Maybe this is the real reason why people put so much emphasis on relationships. Because it's easier to find happiness there than in an occupation. You can kid yourself about being in love. It's hard to kid yourself about a hellish nine to five.

i'm back. where i started. no, that's not quite right. i'm just back in china. and i'm actually in bejing the city this time. not at the factory an hour away. so i'm in the midst of a real live city. and there are lots of things to do. but i don't want to do them. at least not yet. i hope i'll get to see stacey more. or at least more than once.



i think once you start traveling alot, everything just feels the same. the flights. the airports. the food. the people. the smells. it's just all filed under a big fat folder called "traveling." i've lost all sense of excitement about anything new. but i think i've said that before. so i won't say it again. i'm trying to think of the one place that would get me really excited to visit. and i can't.



the feeling of being someplace and never having left it is very familiar to me. san diego. new york. michigan. china. it's like once i get to one place, all the other places fade into the background. and i immediately get into the groove of the place i'm at. actually it's all the same groove. laziness. but it's different forms of laziness. who am i kidding. it's all the same laziness.

i'm off. i wanted to write big important things. about scary movies and the dark. and being the friend on the outside edge. but i don't have time. so i just have to wait.

it was natalie portman's birthday yesterday. i forgot to call her. she'll be so upset. she turned twenty one. now we can go clubbing together. or you know. not.

i'm leaving to china on wednesday. for another six weeks. now you know.

we saw the most beautiful thing the other night. after clubbing in LA. at a mexican joint. rodrigo's. let me set it up for you. the scene: parking lot of the aforementioned mexican restaurant. the situation: two guys about to get it on. one guy was taking off his outer shirt and yelling at a smaller guy. the usual stuff like, "you don't know who i am!" "let's go!" "c'mon on!" and the ever popular "fucker!!!" i didn't catch any names so i'm gonna substitute "bobby" and "horace" for their identities.



horace was a little smaller but he had his friend and his girlfriend holding him back. bobby and horace yelled and yelled at each other, squawking at each other and pacing in little violent circles. by this time, bobby's veins were bursting out of his bald head and it looked like he really wanted to fight. but horace's girlfriend wouldn't let him get at horace. she kept on screaming, "if you want to touch him! you're gonna have to hit me first!" and of course bobby couldn't hit a girl so he just circled in frustration. we were leaning against the car watching this whole thing play out. victor was so involved in the drama that at one point he was practically standing in the fight zone. me and hong motioned for him to come stand with us. thus saving his life. victor. you can buy us dinner later.



after a good five-ten minutes of yelling. bobby and horace were....still yelling. at this point, we pretty much decided nothing was going to happen because nobody yells for five-ten minutes and then fights. for some unfathomable reason, horace and his girlfriend were the ones yelling at each other now. he kept on telling her to get out of the way. and she refused because she didn't want him to fight. awwwn. how cute.



i kind of lost interest in the whole affair after a few minutes of watching their make up fighting. suddenly, after a good twenty minutes of yelling, horace and bobby were working out their differences. conflict resolution. it was beautiful. bobby said he was insulted because horace called him "cuz," which i guess implies he was a gangbanger. and so bobby wanted to settle the score and prove that he wasn't a gangbanger by pounding horace's face in. there's something inherently wrong about bobby's logic. but i can't quite put my finger on it. i'm only an unfinished philosophy major after all. horace and bobby did the palm slap, man hug thing and they parted amiably. with nothing except spit exchanged. i witnessed firsthand the awesome power of "love thy neighbor" and let me tell you, it isn't half as entertaining as a full out brawl.



but hey. violence is for kindergarden. we're adults now. we don't fight. we conflict resolute.

monica has a great duplex. it's crammed bottom to top with neat door handles, intriguing antique items and absolutely cool furniture. she has replaced just about anything replaceable in her place. all the light fixtures and knobs and sink protrusions and colors and well. everything. right now it's a bit of a mess because there are lots of boxes lying around. waiting to be organized and filled. monica is a box person. and she's kind of OCD. so i was careful not to put my grimey hands on anything. she has a big cabinet full of oatmeal orange soap. and she has a retro refrigerator from the sixties. and a matching oven. why is everything old cool again? i'll leave that topic alone for now.



anyhow. monica is a free lance interior designer and i'd been wanting to see her duplex in pasadena for the longest time. i finally saw it. and explored it. and i was stunned. i felt like ariel. "gadgets and gizmos a plenty...." stop me when your ears hurt. everything cool you've seen in furniture stores, she has. but more likely she has a better, more original version of the cheap mass produced knock-off. everyone should really see her place. it's quite amazing. she said i could stay in her closet if i come up to visit more. her tiny closet reminds me of the secret bathroom in ally mcbeal. it's very cozy.



i also went furniture browsing with monica. you can imagine how much more exciting furniture browsing is with someone who knows what they're looking at. everyone should have an interior design friend. monica offered to let me be her handy man if she goes on jobs in the future. so if this flute thing doesn't go. i can become a furniture helper. fun hunh? i'm moving up in the world. watch out.

big day.

i've been thinking about whether or not having a girl who listens and loves hip hop is a qualification for a significant other. i think, on one hand, that music is really just an interest and is just a miniscule part of the whole. but on the other hand, i need good music around me. at all times. i don't do well in silence. especially in cars. i need music. also, because i tend to be a car music hog (yup, i'm a bitch like that) i think it might possibly be important that me and this whoever listen to the same music. not that hip hop is my life, because really, i didn't grow up with it. nor do i pretend to live it. but it's kind of important. music is kind of important. don't you think?



i've known....two, possibly three, girls who have had nearly the exact same taste in music and hip hop as me. and that alone was a foundation for a friendship. factoring all that audio chemistry into a relationship equation would result in loveliness. i think most people don't mind hip hop. but i kind of would like someone who absolutely adores it. and not lauryn hill adores it. because who doesn't like lauryn hill? i want them to like and appreciate tribe. and the roots. and mos. and pharcyde. and if a girl loves gangstarr. it's pretty much over. that would be like cupid posing as a song, shooting arrows directly into me.



however. taking into account all the things that need to be compatible in a relationship, is music really that important? it's not my primary interest. and i'm semi-decently accomodating to other types of music. so, what am i looking for? what's my point? i'm not sure. i'm gonna have to think long and hard about this one.

rancho santa fe has been named "america's richest town" by cnn. wow. i didn't think rancho santa fe would win at anything. but i suppose it makes sense. janet jackson has a house there. so does jewel. but they won't let me in the gated community to hunt them down. our PO BOX is in rancho santa fe but we technically live in del mar. what does this all mean? rancho santa fe beat out shining lights like bloomfield hills, MI (number three). we know people from there don't we?



"rancho santa fe holds the dubious distinction as the site of the worst mass suicide on u.s. soil. The 39 members of the heaven's gate cult killed themselves in 1997, believing they were shedding their earthly "containers" to catch a ride on a spaceship trailing the hale-bopp comet.

the nba playoffs are over for me. the celtics. total disappointment. my second team-- the kings. useless. now i'm reduced to cheering for the nets against the lakers. the same nets who only beat the lakers once. by two points. with shaq out. so basically the playoffs are done. paul pierce. disappeared. antoine walker. disappeared. the whole celtic team. missing.



and how about those kings? the warriors with the flashy names and the flashy behind-the-back passes? they suck. hedo turkoglu. suck. doug christie. brick layer. vlade divac. flop this. predrag stojakovic. *airball* and don't even get me started on cwebb. the leader of the kings. the "i'll pick but i won't roll" power forward. the "i like to sit outside by the three point line even though i don't shoot threes" type of six ten player. the "i like to complain everytime i miss a shot." if he even takes a shot. he likes to make crazy weird passes. that sometimes works. but sometimes doesn't. i've seen him make two post up baskets in two games. what the?!? chris webber. you suck. sorry. plus the kings hit a tad over 50% from the free throw line. way to go. "aren't these guys supposed to be professionals?"



however. mike bibby is a stud. he couldn't miss down the stretch. sure he looks funny. sure he sucked for my fantasy team this year. sure he was a waste of a second round pick. but damn. he was the dictionary definition of clutch tonight (not to mention throughout the playoffs). swish. swish. swish. swish. money. it's really too bad he has to play with a team of losers. i'm a bitter bitter man today. no celtics. no kings. only the lakers. with kobe and his ego. i think i'm going to cry.

went to watch culture shock san diego's third annual bust-a-groove competition this weekend. tightness. that's all i can say. there can be no better dancing than californian hip hop. although some of it gets tired and repetitive, the few innovative acts are more than enough to make up for the boring parts. and for this particular competition, 80% of the acts were clean as hell so it was tough to be bored.



dope stuff on stage: uc riverside showed up dressed as nerds. nerds! with big glasses and hiked up pants. dope ass. this one group, devious, should have won the whole thing. they busted out a light saber segment where they used the *wherng* sound as a beat. coolness. and then they closed it with "september," one of the all time greatest songs ever. kaba was of course incredibly good. they are too clean. too good. too everything. they probably suffer from everyone imitating them. they used nirvana for a part. and it worked. go kaba. culture shock san diego closed it all out with a super -insert exciting adjective here- act. they had themes and props and all sorts of cool stuff. i think we need to buy the tape. this was definitely a good year. formality won it with a little kid. total undeserved. but they had a little kid. who was half the size of the trophy. they were good but they rolled on the gimmick.



i can't really say that i miss dancing after watching the show. because i never danced like this. and to say that bust-a-groove triggered my feelings about "dancing" would be an injustice. but hell. i miss dancing.

"True love is the best thing in the world. Except for cough drops. Everybody knows that."

-Max the Miracle Worker, The Princess Bride-