japan is reinventing superpower—again. instead of collapsing beneath its widely reported political and economic misfortunes, japan’s global cultural influence has quietly grown. from pop music to consumer electronics, architecture to fashion, and animation to cuisine, japan looks more like a cultural superpower today than it did in the 1980s, when it was an economic one. but can japan build on its mastery of medium to project an equally powerful national message?

-japan’s gross national cool-





i am a "skinhead" from singapore. i know, i know. in order to be a skinhead, one has to be white. but i am writing this article because i would like to spread the word that there are many malays who would like to unleash our power against jewish, african and chinese attempts to dominate and corrupt us. just as you have white power, we seek to have malay power... i recognize that whites are my betters and that settles that. but i hope that you can teach us in singapore some things about the skinhead way of life.

-skinheadz.com-

could there be more love? thanks dave son. and btw, to the world i introduce james and his mammoth adventure. not that he needs introduction but he's been blog mia for awhile. so, world james, james mammoth.

identity. i have come to a decision about life. a life decision if you will. i think i am taking a job. this may not be such an important endeavour for many people of the world but when you have been coddled and helped along for all your life, this "taking of a job" thing takes on some big importance. most fibers of my being doesn't want this job. but being a logical rational person, this job is necessary. because it provides "stability." the magic keyword of maturity. stable people are trustworthy people. stable people are dependable people. stable people are boring. but hey. i was boring before so now i might as well be boring but with means.



i had a grand mini-plan that didn't involve a real actual behind the desk job. it involved learning the numbers of fruits and vegetables in order to input them into a check register. it was supposed to be a glorious vision of me as a scab, crossing picket lines and valiantly cashiering and bagging despite the protests of the union people. it was supposed to be about flexibility, short terms and seventeen fifty an hour. and it was supposed to be about making short term money to fuel long term goals. but hey, i scoff at long term goals.



so for now, call me anything you want, but make sure you put administrative assistant somewhere in there.



update (oct 30): actually, i've decided not to take it.



update2 (oct 30, 4 hours later): actually, i've decided to take it. but with some new wrinkles. mainly that i can still be unemployed for 2-3 weeks while i look around. wow. things just sometimes work out when you procrastinate. the world is a wonderful place with wonderful people in it.

the conundrum of punk rock. the essence of (the) music is to show disdain not only for the establishment, but for the very fans who support the band and the movement. but once bands get a taste of the delicacies of wealth and fame, it is difficult not to wallow in the success, thus becoming the very thing it once parodied. and as soon as the band loses the essence of that which made it successful, it falls apart, redefined as poseurs.

-excerpted from espn.com-

pausing for station identification. i'm trying to think of acts of malicious intent. doing something that you know would hurt someone and continuing with it even though you get nothing out of it except the joy of seeing someone in pain. most painful, hurtful acts are, in my experience, somewhat inadvertent and ultimately selfish. and i use selfish in the best way possible. as in, hurting this person is a terrible side effect and not the main goal. but i wonder if i've ever done anything to hurt someone, without having a good reason for it. or not even a good reason, but just a reason. i tend to think, at least philosophically, that you should always do what is best for you. and if that somehow hurts other people, it's terrible, but it must be done. there is rarely much hesitancy or regret on my part, when i know my actions will hurt someone but lies in my best interest, that i don't go ahead and do it.



but i am sure there are actions like this. where it would be "better" to watch out for the best interest of others as opposed to yours. i've done both i'm sure. hurting others as a side-effect and as a central theme. i think we all have. or maybe we all haven't. but it's something to think about. the actions that people undertake can be nasty and cry worthy but rarely are they so malicious and sadistic that they can be called "wrong." it's all a matter of perspective and "knowing the whole story." this is much easier of course, when the defendent is me. or someone i know. some things, as hurtful as they are, just have to be done. for the good of yourself.



however, pain hurts all the same doesn't it?



how much of a responsibility can you take for the feelings and hurts of others? and if you choose to accept all responsibilty, are you losing yourself in the process? always trying to walk the cleanest path? unwilling to offend others or direct pain at them? and i wonder if this would be admirable or despicable.

this fire. or at least two of them, were started by humans. not acts of nature. but arson. i wonder if they knew that the blaze would get so big. if they knew homes would be wrecked. i wonder if a disaster of this magnitude was their intent. or if it was indeed a prank that grew out of control. in sixth grade, a robber set fire to the house next door to ours, to be used as a distraction for his getaway. it seemed for a few brief moments, as we woke up in the middle of the night, like the flames were coming from our house. but instead it was just our neighbor's house, burning away. our neighbors were scheduled to return from their two week vacation that day. imagine that. imagine this.



the animals at the wild animal park are being threatened. this makes me sad. not that the rest of the fires and the humans running from it and combatting it don't make me sad. but the thought of animals, with their heightened senses and inability to go anywhere, makes me wince. i wonder if someone out there, is enjoying the glory of this wildfire. one day they can look at this and proudly say to their grandkids, or their cellmates, "hey i did this."

if i could turn back time. as fires rage across san diego county, smothering the skies and peppering the air with ashes, small children walk from business to business collecting candy. dressed in various costumes, they are oblivious to the lines of parents staring off into the horizon wondering, "when are the fires gonna stop and where will it be headed next?"



from hong's house we can see a line of fire in the hills beyond but it is too far away to threaten us. until the wind changes. in which case, anything is fair game. in the event of our evacuation, i have decided to take my computer, my new hat, my passport, my various clothing accessories and a few books. i would leave all my DVDs but take my CDs. in the event of an evacuation i would have to think about exactly which possessions are the most valuable and irreplaceable to me. in the event of an evacuation i would bring my toothbrush and contact solution. practicality second, safety first.



during state of emergencies it is best to eat lunch at costco and dessert at jamba juice. that is the way of my world. we also had no clue the time change thing was coming. it worries me that important things like gaining an hour are not in my consciousness at all. or in the consciousness of any of my friends either. they should send up flares to announce this kind of change, to remind everyone. oh yeah. fires.

we went to ucsd to see the freedom writers (an ucsd spoken word group) open for aceyalone. we didn't stay for aceyalone but thank goodness we were there for the freedom writers. arash was off the hook. the guy was unbelievable. i'd never seen him perform before and this as an initiation was unbelievable. he was beat boxing, rhyming, rapping, working the crowd, working the turntables, promoting his old school mix cd. and he made the beats that accompanied many of the group's pieces. seriously watching him on stage being so natural and so talented gave me literal goosebumps. ridiculous. i forget sometimes, how exciting it is to actually get out of the house and see things.



there was this girl in the group who was crazy ridiculous too. rhymed like lauryn, sang like nobody's business. and her hands. i fell in love with her hands. long, lithe, flexible, delicate and strong. her hand movements during her poetry was entrancing. fall in love with hands you say? ridiculous. i say it's possible. you just have to know what you're looking at to appreciate it. damn. hands.....



a dope part of their set was "a battle between poets." it's hard to describe but imagine a MC battle with faux british accents and traditional poetic sensibilities. one guy was just killing it. he had some ridiculously funny put downs that i can't even remember. but one of them, paraphrased and totally butchered, went something like "you're a simile, you are just the same as me." ok, you have no idea what i'm talking about. regardless, i'm so glad we went to see arash and his people perform. amazing.

god soul? yesterday me and james are shopping at north county fair, the mall that i used to know like the back of my hand. i could tell you where all the stores were, where all the items one might need are. but now north county fair has lost a fair amount of cachet. for one, it is an indoor mall, and with san diego's weather and beautiful outdoor malls, nobody really goes to north county fair anymore. but to me, it is still the best mall for shopping. it caters to the young and the semi-broke. there are no outrageously expensive stores that are fun to look at but for all intents and purposes, useless. there is no banana. there is no express for men. there are a very limited number of "useless" stores like speaker stores, stationary stores and that type of thing.



there are a huge number of stores that sell skateboard/snowboard clothing and paraphenalia. a few years ago, there were maybe two. the times they are a-changing. we were on the search for hats and beanies so we hit up every single board shop. we walk into this one store, and a young man greets us warmly and hands us some fliers. as soon as i get in the door a girl goes "hi, how are you? what's your name?" i was a little surprised by the audacity of her hello but i figured they were a new store and trying to establish a rapport with the customers so i said hi and asked her where the hats where. (she also asked "so, how did you hear about us?" a-duh, you are at the mall, i just walked on by.) after politely but insistently brushed her off to look around by myself i moved to the hat section. then james walks in behind me and she says to him, "hey, do you have any family in LA? because you look really familiar." turns out she was mistaken. but still, mall people are not usually this friendly. retail people are definitely not this friendly.



so i'm at the hat section and i'm looking around and i notice a bookshelf full of bibles and various religion books to my left. this store, from the outside, looks like any other skater alternative culture store. complete with blaring rap rock music and pictures of heavily tattoo-ed guys trying to look heavily cool. but i didn't recognize any of the brands being sold and the bibles totally threw me off. james then comes over and goes "hey, did you notice this is a christian skater store?" i'm like, "what?!?"



who ever heard of such a thing? a christian skater store? finally i started looking around some more and saw p.o.d., creed, evanescence, and steven curtis chapman on the cd racks and brands names like onetruth, ezekiel, backwardfish, truth: soul armor and not of this world. aaaaah. moment of clarity. a christian skater store. literally. and apparently it does very well because this is the fourth store they've opened up. i wished them luck as i walked out the door but i was shaking my head because i wasn't quite sure what to make of the entire experience.



so i went home and looked up the website. apparently this is a store that "prays for people." i feel like there is something fundamentally wrong with cross breeding religion, evangelism and commercialism. but then again, it's not really all that bad. people have stores that cater to a specific clientele, this one is just focused on a religion as opposed to say, sports. and i guess it allows the christian kids to have clothes that fit into the societal trendy "norm." button down shirts and khakis are out for the bible toting crowd. black, trucker hats, tattoos and silver are in. i guess it's a good thing. i'm a little wary of the whole idea behind the store but i guess it's their prerogative.



on the way out i heard the girl say to the door guy, "good job." apparently in regards to him getting us to walk into the store. christian skater stores. what's next?

it's a sad phenomenon....we (mostly women) are socialized to believe that the most direct messages are the least genuine ones. instead, with all of our own underhanded/backstabbing ways, we come to think that the indirect, irrational messages are "real."

-something to think about written by someone better looking than me-

aaaaaahhhhhh. i'm typing this with one arm resting on my armchair. the elbow doesn't bend or straighten right now. i hurt it today during the last game of a six game losing streak. i went up in the air, maybe a whole foot or two, and then crash landed on wrists and elbow. i didn't even know i could jump anymore. i thought perhaps such a spectacular fall, such an extreme effort in going for a blocked shot, would be rewarded by the basketball gods and allow them to turn the game in our favor. but instead. we lost. 15-14 i believe. typical. we didn't win the whole night. let me emphasize that. the whole night. as in not once. as in, we played the same guys for six games and lost every one. there is no pain like "we suck" pain. frustration creeps.



i think the only time i'm really emotional is playing basketball. i yell, i clap, i make weird noises, i say "short" everytime my guys shoots, even if he's having a banner day. i clap for the other team. i scream at my teammates. i spit in disgust. i spit in anger. i smoke in-between games. i pretend i know everything. i refuse to run down on D after a crappy play. but then afterwards i'm a perfect gentleman. go teamwork.



i wish i had mad game so i could actually trash talk instead of screaming things like "gonorrhea" or "the aliens are coming." i'm hoping to confuse opponents with strange and innane sayings. i've read that the mental game is more important than the physical but i feel like the verbal game is important too.

it took a second to register up in my branium, my dome, my head, my skull, my cranium. i think the rules for cranium should be changed. it's not right that once you get on the fast track, you have such a big advantage. it's not right that once you roll a purple you get to skip all the colored dots on the way. it should be about who gets more questions right with a little bit of chance thrown in. but now it's become just a game of "get on the fast track! roll purples!" ok, i'm just bitter because we lost in cranium to two newbies and a FOB who somehow got right a hummed version of "stop. in the name of love." if you have no idea what cranium is, ignore this.



by the way, kill bill is off the hook. my faith in quentin is restored. if it indeed had ever left.

it's been said to me, very recently, that i am a quiet person. i don't get this. i thought i was pretty loud. not loud loud but not quiet for sure. however, i've confirmed with various sources that i am quiet. or maybe at least soft spoken. like my voice is always low pitched. i thought people just couldn't understand me because i mumble. but apparently it's the decibels in my voice that also get lost in the translation from head to air to another head. i conceive of myself as a loud person, why doesn't anyone else agree? weird.



are people truly surprised by things when people go "this is what i think of you, (insert observation)?" or is it more like "oh i am? i didn't know that? why do you say that? tell me more about it?" i think it's the latter. people like to hear about themselves. it's true. in this case however, it was surprising to find myself identified as quiet. i know this is hypocritical. but hey. deal.

there's no point to any of this. it's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. so i take pleasure in the details. you know... a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter becomes a cackle... and i sit back and i smoke my camel straights and i ride my own melt. -reality bites-



is it possible to take too much pleasure in the little things? i think that if one were to concentrate on and enjoy the little things too much, it is very easy to be placated and happy. this is nice of course. but it also allows you to go on day by day with no big picture perspective. all the big things that aren't going well can be obscured by the millions of little things that are. friends calling randomly at five in the morning. one funny moment while smoking a cigarette. a new word. internet. fantasy football victories. another "getting to you know you better" conversation. a picture worth at least five forwards. these things make the day go by. yet they are, in the overall big picture, pretty meaningless. there should be a law of diminishing returns about this type of stuff. or at least a saturation point. i mean, how many great conversations do you need to have before they all start sounding the same? it's like drugs. the more you take the less effect it should have on you right?



or maybe that's the case. the more you have of a particular something, the more it diminishes so you have to take more and more to maintain potency. so you're spent chasing that next high and lose sight of all other things. hum. that would be terrible. but yet possibly true and self applicable.

never thought that we would ever be more than friends

now i’m all confused cause for you i have deeper feelings

we both thought it was cool to cross the line

and i was convinced it would be alright

now things are strange, nothings the same

and really i just want my friend back

-musiq, half crazy-

why is this verse coming six times rehearsed? all weddings for the calendar year of 2003 are now officially over. i have been to six, count'em, six weddings this year. and i am only twenty five. imagine what happens when my friends all start to get older and really panicky. the thing that i can say about this last and final wedding was that it was beautiful, conventional, traditional and right to the point. so, a perfect wedding actually. there were no flower girls, no frodo baggins impersonators, nothing under five feet tall in sight. the ceremony was over in the blink of an eye and the setting was fabolous.



i was decidedly unsocial as all hell for the wedding. i've been trying out my new anti-social skills and it's been working to tremendous success. this occassion was no different. well, until a drunk guy sat down next to me and i was coerced into a conversation about basketball and the potential age of complete hair loss. but aside from that little snafu i'm getting pretty good at staring into space while looking slightly occupied, pensive, and unapproachable all at the same time. and i was already good to excellent at head nodding gratuitously in any conversation so combine all these skills together and i was a bundle of joy at the dinner table. and i really have perfected the "look right past a person's shoulder as they approach you, possibly trying to come talk to you" thing. it's a quick eye glance over the shoulder, a dart to meet their eyes, a blank eye expression, and then level eyes back over the shoulder. does wonders i tell you.



oh tangent. so the thing with all these strangers sitting at tables for a large wedding. each table starts to acquire a sort of table pride. like which group of random strangers assembled at a table for ten can be the most "fun and exciting." everyone tries to be loud and full of energy and conversation and pizzaz. and everybody says "wow, that is exciting like it really is exciting." and when the bride and groom appear to toast the tables, each table tries really hard to scream and cheer louder than the one before it. our table was so exciting that one guy (the drunk one next to me) actually got up and defected to anther table. needless to say, i liked being at the dead quiet table, built character.



tangent of a tangent. the class clinking. stop it. you've seen them kiss. you've seen them kiss again. stop clinking the damn silverware. it's annoying. it's traditional but it's annoying.



back to tangent one. so all these strangers are trying to meet each other and trying to have fun with each other and some tables have more guys, some tables are filled with mostly girls, some tables are seemingly random. but the thing is at weddings, no table arrangement is random, it's all done according to a plan. so, the first object of conversation at any table is to figure out "what organizational principle were we organized by?" we (me and george) were at the san diego table. actually, we're always at the san diego table. sometimes, with a bigger geographical area to cover, we are at the "west coast" table but it's really all the same. i've never been at the young couples table, the swinging singles table, the most likely to get drunk table, the young successful professional table, the high GPA table, or any table unrelated to where i reside. i guess that could say something about me. basically that i live in san diego. wow. stunning.



i'm done with the table talk. let's move on. i saw two girls there who i recognized from umich but i didn't talk to them. i really was deathly curious as to how they knew jack but i wasn't really wanting to have a conversation about it. i was thinking i would just ask heather about it all later because i know she knows the two girls. actually, i kind of know one of them. she went partying with us in LA once and we were even in a group picture together. we are however, not friendsters, so i didn't feel like i had the necessary background credentials for a meet and greet. see, i'm not anti-social, i'm just using friendster as the foundation for my social interactions. it may not be a good plan but it's a plan.



i've got a few bajillion observations about weddings but i'm done here for your sake. see, i really am actually semi-pensive when i'm staring off into the distance. it may look like stand-offishness but it's really just because i'm thinking about you in relation to the bigger picture and as an inconsequential number. but if i'm doing the "stare over your shoulder, into the eyes, back to the shoulder" thing, then yeah, i'm ignoring you.



oh and everyone thought that me and george were a couple. two examples. while we were conversing about whether or not i would go bald, the drunk -- and balding -- guy says to george "well, you're lucky, he's still got hair." i replied with, "well actually she's my sister so it's probably kind of inconsequential." i probably didn't get to use a big multi-voweled word like inconsequential but i'm re-telling it as though i did. history is written by the winners as they say. and george was asked by somebody, "so how long have you and jon been going out?" in my re-telling of it, george replied with "well we've been together since conception but it's really not that serious." but i wasn't actually there so i'm not sure what george replied. i think i need to go to weddings with people other than george, both our reps are in grave danger. end of story.



congratulations to jack and grace and thank you for your wedding. [pictures]

for the record. the job that i spoke of that i had, is apparently not quite mine. i thought i had it, i thought it was up to me to make a committment, but when i called back i was told, "we'll call you back." which is fine, because as much as i appreciate the concept of having a job, any job, i would not have particularly enjoyed this particular job. (particulars are so important don't you think?) it's a company about thirty minutes away from here, a pharmaceutical company. i would have been doing some basic data entry (they recognized my greatest strength obviously), some data analysis and hypothetically, if my skills were up to it, some production overseeing. i know it sounds grand but really, it's not my type of gig. i would be wearing sanitary booties, a plastic gown and a hair net thing. for what hair, i don't know.



the pros of this job was that it was a job with proper pay and like real actual benefits. casual dress was acceptable too. the people seemed nice and i was referred to the company through a friend of a friend of my mom's (go chinese community). the cons. well, it was not in an industry i liked. it was in an industry that i couldn't see myself learning anything. and i know, "you learn something everywhere." whatevers. i have people skills, i communicate well, i talk behind your back, i already know about office politics, chill out. the hours were 7am - 4pm, which isn't really a con because i would prefer to skip traffic so i guess that's not too bad. but the thought of me actually being somewhere responsible at seven am amused me as much as i'm sure it amuses you. the cons could go on. but i'll stop because the fact that i could have a job is pro enough.



nobody can have things their way all the time right? the good thing about all this is that i'm looking real damn hard for any other job that doesn't require me to wear sanitary garments. the thing holding me back from possibly getting this job is that i have a college degree. irony is fun isn't it? the position isn't exactly designed for a college graduate and they are semi fearful that if they take the time to train me, i'll leave in a few months. and i tried to assuage their fears by saying, "hey i'm really really excited to work in your giant sanitary bathroom of a building" but somehow, i don't think my words instilled any confidence in them. so now they are putting me on hold to see if there is another position available, one where i might be more inclined to stay on long term. we'll see how that goes.



the moral of the story. i am still jobless. i know the excitement was fierce -- and the temperature in hell dropping by the millisecond -- about me as an employed man but it was a false alarm. in the unlikely event of jon getting another sniff at a real job, i'll restrain from mentioning j-o-b until i actually have one and i'm blogging from it. thank you to everyone who emailed me to say "congratulations" and welcomed me to the real world. i appreciate your thoughts but i'll stay in my own pocket universe for a while longer. by choice mind you, by choice.

how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop? i despise the marketing that runs our magazine business. i so want to do magazines and be involved in magazines and i appreciate them down to the tiniest detail but the whole "make a cover that sells" really bothers me. i used to be ignorant. i thought that covers with seinfeld and "popular" issues were put there because they were the most interesting. lo and behold, after buying every cover of discovery or national geographic with "time travel" or "dinosaur" imprinted on it, i realized that it was all a marketing ploy. there is a reason fuzzy tigers make it onto the covers and not rabid wombats. to move units, to sell copies. in trying to attract a mass audience, the cover is so key. if you put a "top one hundred greatest songs" list on a magazine cover, it piques the curiosity, it makes people stop and want to glance through it. eveyone loves lists and rankings, don't deny it.



but now, i stop myself. i ask "do i really care about what the top fifty most influential love songs sung by people between the ages of 23-32 are?" the answer is usually, inevitably, "no." these lists are created arbitrarily by someone to make money. some things however, you can't miss out on. best dressed, most influential, most intriguing, greatest back issues. that kind of stuff just sucks me in. but now i don't rush to read every magazine with a favored star, musician or athlete on the cover. i will not be coerced into buying or reading an article just because it's massively attractive. this coming from the guy who has a collection of natalie portman, kristen kreuk, katie holmes, x-men magazines. i know this may seem like a small victory and a minor change in lifestyle and reading habits, but for me, i think this is an exercise in perspective and self restraint. i may not win many battles but the ones that i do i win i'm very proud of. so be aware, you are a target. but you're probably smart, you already know that.

joy to the world. life can change so fast. not even the kind of changes that come naturally but the type that makes you stop and go "whoa." rarely are my days and nights filled with "issues." with things. things of substance that i have to think about. or write about, or talk about. things that actually affect the flow of life. and this week, in only three days, it's been non-stop action. like a bad movie with bad digital explosions.



the thing about it all is that i've learned somethings in three days. one, sometimes you just have to suck it up and do what you don't want to do (i got a job, details later). two, sometimes crazy things happen that really come out of the blue and make you wonder about action versus non-action. and how to handle a certain situation that you aren't even really in. three, sometimes you can lose something so fast you can hardly remember you had it. even if it was not really yours. but belonging rather, to somebody else.



yesterday a close friend of mine lost a close friend of theirs. and that sent such chills down my spine. because sometimes there really are moments when people are so important. and something like this makes you think about what could happen to anyone at anytime. and that makes you so afraid. so afraid to committ to attachment to a person. so afraid to think about what life would be like if someone left. and beyond just sadness and tears, it's fear for how this will affect your friend. and despite my not really knowing her, i feel a significant light snuffed out in this world. she was a poet and a free spirit and that i admired her for.



and her passing made me want to send earnest appreciation and love to everyone that i feel earnest appreciation and love for. but maybe they know already. or maybe they don't. either way, that particular moment has passed. it's weird to chicken out of saying something appreciative -- or i love you things -- to people, isn't it? i'm just okay now, with just thinking to myself, about people and where you really want them to be in your life. and how best to structure things so that the people who you are supposed to care for, want to care for, are the people who are actually cared for. instead of always putting it off to "next time next time, we'll talk later."

sorry, we can't validate your parking for a pack of gum. as we do this whole life thing, we're always looking for support, for validation. validation for us as people, for our ideas, for our theories, for the way we live our particular lives. i wonder what it feels like then, to have no validation. to have an idea or a way of doing things that nobody else understands. usually, even if i'm on crack, i find or encounter something that validates what i'm saying or thinking or feeling. be it person book or another form of communication. but i would guess that sometimes, there are things that we think, that are based so much on our own experiences, that nobody can validate them. and at that point what happens? i don't know.



maybe we give up that idea, and question what might be wrong with "me." or we forge ahead alone and bear the torch of a single shining idea, looking for validation but not really expecting it. people need to be validated though. people need to have support. it doesn't have to be blatant "clap clap, good job" support but just an acceptance at least. to find even just that one person who can say honestly "i feel you," lends so much strength and hope.



but many great men and women have struggled on with no validation, with no support, and achieved great transcendent things. how do they do it? what sorts of inner resources are they accessing to enable them to be classified as truly "my own (wo)man." i would like to find out someday. perhaps not personally, but at least anecdotally.



i've noticed, and have been wanting to compile, a list of things that people say. like questions or comments that people ask, when they are fishing for an answer that they already have. but they want to hear someone else say it. i'm not sure if this is the best example, but like for instance, when someone says "oh, i know your type (of person that you are attracted to)," the stock answer is usually "my type? i don't have a type." and that leads right into a discussion of types and what somebody is or isn't attracted to.



everyone has an idea of what kinds of people they ideally are attracted to -- it may not be a type, but there are traits or generalities at least. but i find that many people are coy with their answers so that they can see how well the other person knows them. or they want to hear what "my type" is from somebody else's perspective. i wish i had a better example of what i'm trying to point out. but i don't right now. i'll keep thinking. it all has something to do with trying to find validation, and then seeing who sees and really "understands" you. it's all a test really.

an email i received today.



i hate "spoken word". what words are not spoken? spoken in tongues, in glances, in fists gripping hair, in teeth clenching, in winks, in sobs, in hiccups of laughter. words are kites. meaningless without the breath of wind, force of un/intentional communication. i see words, "spoken" ones, around me, moving and pulsing.



words are photons. they are packets of light, waves of thought. out in a flip of a switch or smile, spewing across overcrowded lawns filled with hungry minds. or, perhaps, they shine and sparkle intermittently - flashes of light on choppy water-falling and flowing out of the blind street poet's mouth as he jingle's his cup.



busy busy busy busy.



i hear and hate the pretentiousness of "spoken word". as if those words that are not stated, shouted, screamed, or slutted out somehow are less than light. less than the power that they carry on their backs, as they zip from heart to head, tongue to mouth, to eyes, to touch. what of child's first cry of pain?



"spoken word" artists like to think themselves special. because they can speak words while humming a tune? because they can rhyme and not at the same time? because they cannot sing and cannot rap, cannot carry the weight of a pen's might or a scream of un-orchestrated pain? because they know that the only words that are not spoken are the one's without inspiration?



hilarious no? i love it.

it's important to remember that the ancients' view of sex was entirely opposite from ours today. sex begot new life -- the ultimate miracle -- and miracles could be performed only by a god. the ability of a woman to produce life from her womb made her sacred. a god. intercourse was the revered union of the two halves of the human spirit -- male and female -- through which the male could find spiritual wholeness and communion with god. what you saw was not about sex, it was about spirituality. the hieros gamos ritual is not a perversion. it's a deeply sacrosanct ceremony.



for the early church mankind's use of sex to commune directly with god posed a serious threat to the catholic power base. it left the church out of the loop, undermining their self-proclaimed status as the sole conduit to god. for obvious reasons, they worked hard to demonize sex and recast it as a disgusting and sinful act. other major religions did the same.



is it surprising we feel conflicted about sex? our ancient heritage and our very physiologies tell us sex is natural -- a cherished route to spiritual fulfillment -- and yet modern religion decries it as shameful, teaching us to fear our sexual desire as the hand of the devil.

-the da vinci code-

asgardian wars. in an old x-men graphic novel, the x-men team up with alpha flight and venture to the canadian artics to investigate the disappearance of cyclops and madeleine pryor. upon arrival they find that all the humans who crash landed with cyclops have gained supernatural powers. in addition, the frozen tundra has been transformed into a sunny utopia. the humans were given powers that related to their natural gifts and passions. the architect could now build anything, raising fully constructed buildings out of the ground. the cook could conjure up a smorgasbord of food (and clothing) out of thin air. the medic could heal all diseases and eliminate curses such as cyclops' uncontrollable optic blasts, puck's dwarfism, rogue's inability to touch other people and aurora's split personality. with such miraculous gifts at their disposal, the humans were convinced that they could eliminate all the world's problems -- poverty, hunger, etc. some of the x-men saw this as a chance to eliminate the bigotry that existed against mutants because if everyone became endowed with powers and gifts, there would be no need to hate and fear super powered homo superiors.



of course this kind of gift came with a twist. it turns out that loki, the norse god of trickery and lies, had been responsible for this magical source of power. by granting super powers to normal humans, he in turn took away their imagination and creativity. the architect could create or copy anything he had previously sketched but he could no longer design or innovate or improve upon his drawings. the provider of food and clothing could perfectly replicate any recipes or clothing items but could no longer come up with anything of her own. once the x-men were confronted with this twist, they decided that mutants would be persecuted anyway, because they would be the only ones left with any imagination. as cyclops says, "we'll be the dreamers in a world that can't. how long before we're resented for that -- and then hated, and then killed?!"



in short, this x-men graphic novel, "the gift", brings up a great question: at what price, creativity? are we willing to give up our imaginations in exchange for great power and the ability to build, construct, heal? the architect didn't think so. he said, "what was important to me -- what gave my life meaning -- wasn't the ability to build, but to create! what good is my power if it costs my imagination?" do we want to look up in the sky and see a cloud as just a cloud? and not a rabbit or a puffy dragon? are we willing to put aside what essentially makes us human to become super humans?



the answer differs, i think, depending on what type of person you are. some people are willing to sacrifice their creativity because what is important to them is the craft, the building, the doing. some people on the other hand, survive on their creativity and value it above all else. which kind of person are you?



me, i would really trade in anything to have optic blasts, to be able to teleport, to have super regeneration and adamantium claws. but then again, some people call me childish. i prefer to think of it as keeping a certain perspective about the important things in life. c'mon, claws man! claws!