After hours and hours of research, I've finally found it. Here it is:
Friday, March 27, 2009
Sunday, March 01, 2009
I am proud of my ears today
Tho I'm 26, and knocking on 27's door, and 28 in Korean age, I passed the teenager annoying noise test:
Created by Train Horns
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Takeshima is an Island in the Sea of Japan
Waitwaitwait...god help me if any Korean should read that title. What I meant to write was "Dokdo is an island in the East Sea." A thousand mianhaeyos.
Let me take the time to get our international readers and uninformed Korean residents up to speed. You see, (some) Koreans have a tendency to go to extremes in defending against what they perceive to be slights against their national...er, what's the word?...image, I guess. And there is nothing that fires 'em up more than the Liancourt Rocks, to use the neutral appellation. You can read about their dispute with the evil Japanese here, and also look at lots of pretty pictures, which is of course much better than reading.
The article was published in the Boston Herald and what I really loved about reading it were the comments, from presumably Korea-ignorant Bostonites, about how crazy all the Korean protesters are. It comforts me to know that impartial observers can validate my own perceptions here inside the bubble. Let me quote Baffled:
"Wait. What? Some random citizens chopped off their fingers to protest an international debate over ownership of these islands? Like, how the heck is that a "protest"? I mean, I could understand donating money to the cause, or joining the military, or protesting outside the Japanese embassy, or writing letters to world leaders or newspapers or whatever.
Let me take the time to get our international readers and uninformed Korean residents up to speed. You see, (some) Koreans have a tendency to go to extremes in defending against what they perceive to be slights against their national...er, what's the word?...image, I guess. And there is nothing that fires 'em up more than the Liancourt Rocks, to use the neutral appellation. You can read about their dispute with the evil Japanese here, and also look at lots of pretty pictures, which is of course much better than reading.
The article was published in the Boston Herald and what I really loved about reading it were the comments, from presumably Korea-ignorant Bostonites, about how crazy all the Korean protesters are. It comforts me to know that impartial observers can validate my own perceptions here inside the bubble. Let me quote Baffled:
"Wait. What? Some random citizens chopped off their fingers to protest an international debate over ownership of these islands? Like, how the heck is that a "protest"? I mean, I could understand donating money to the cause, or joining the military, or protesting outside the Japanese embassy, or writing letters to world leaders or newspapers or whatever.
But decapitating birds and lopping off your own body parts? That's just a major wtf. I mean...how does that convince anyone of, well, anything? "Hey, you Japanese! Yeah, you guys! You better give up those islands or else I'm going to chop my leg off next! That will teach you not to mess with us!"
If I was a Japanese strategist I'd set up bingo games with my co-bureaucrats, timed with Japanese press releases, as to what body part we could induce people to chop off. "Left big toe? Bingo!""Saturday, February 14, 2009
Sick Again
Yes! By virtue of the dubious gift of a decade old computer from my boss and the visit of, as he put it, the "Internet KT engineer," I have private internet access again. Which means I can, for the first time in 6 months or so, renew my addiction to all of the internet's glory.
First among these addictions is youtube, of course, and since I've spent the past 3 or 4 hours of this lonely Valentine's day watching old favorites and new unseen videos on the site, I thought I'd post one of my favorites.
The first part of a debate between one of my favorite modern philosophers, Christopher Hitchens, and his most capable and articulate opponent, Dinesh D'Souza, on the new and rarely talked about question of "Does God exist?":
First among these addictions is youtube, of course, and since I've spent the past 3 or 4 hours of this lonely Valentine's day watching old favorites and new unseen videos on the site, I thought I'd post one of my favorites.
The first part of a debate between one of my favorite modern philosophers, Christopher Hitchens, and his most capable and articulate opponent, Dinesh D'Souza, on the new and rarely talked about question of "Does God exist?":
Monday, February 02, 2009
Super Bowl Imnida
I woke up bright and early this morning at 10 AM to catch the second half of the big game, and I'm glad I did. I was pulling for the Cardinals to get the upset but the Steelers deserved the win just as much as they did, and it was a great finish.
I was watching the Korean language broadcast and enjoyed both the overenthusiasm of the play by play man (every time there was a catch, even for 2 or 3 yards, he'd scream "DROP PASS") and the announcers' obsession with Heinz Ward, who's half Korean. Ever since he won the Super Bowl MVP in 05, he's become a Korean hero, even tho before this happened my guess is that nary a Korean national had ever heard of him.
What was funny is that he didn't really do anything important in the game, and yet they'd mention his name over and over again. My Korean skilz are still definitely lacking, but this is how I imagine it went:
Dude 1: Rothelsburge (sp) back for the pass.
Dude 2: Oh, Smith is open! He throws....
Dude 1: SHORT PASS!
Dude 2: 1st down!
Dude 1: That was a great play. And they couldn't have done it without Heinz Ward blocking on the other side of the field.
Dude 2: Definitely. Heinz Ward was instrumental in that play.
Dude 1: Yes, yes Heinz Ward was. Heinz Ward was important in that play. Heinz Ward.
....
I was watching the Korean language broadcast and enjoyed both the overenthusiasm of the play by play man (every time there was a catch, even for 2 or 3 yards, he'd scream "DROP PASS") and the announcers' obsession with Heinz Ward, who's half Korean. Ever since he won the Super Bowl MVP in 05, he's become a Korean hero, even tho before this happened my guess is that nary a Korean national had ever heard of him.
What was funny is that he didn't really do anything important in the game, and yet they'd mention his name over and over again. My Korean skilz are still definitely lacking, but this is how I imagine it went:
Dude 1: Rothelsburge (sp) back for the pass.
Dude 2: Oh, Smith is open! He throws....
Dude 1: SHORT PASS!
Dude 2: 1st down!
Dude 1: That was a great play. And they couldn't have done it without Heinz Ward blocking on the other side of the field.
Dude 2: Definitely. Heinz Ward was instrumental in that play.
Dude 1: Yes, yes Heinz Ward was. Heinz Ward was important in that play. Heinz Ward.
....
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Where's the Tin? Wuxi Be Damned (Part 1)
Well, I've said some nice things, now's the fun part: wailing on the city that gratiously accommodated me for the past 5 months like it was a disobedient Iraqi prisoner. Problems I had during my Wuxi experience:
The co-workers - man have I been waiting to talk shit about these guys. First, I want to make it clear, that I had no problem with my Chinese co-workers. They weren't the chattiest or friendliest bunch but they were more or less sane and helpful. My problem was with the other laowais (foreigners) employed by my school...
My students were enrolled in a German sponsored program designed to eventually send capable students abroad to study business and earn a bachelor's degree in said field. As such, throughout the semester we cycled through a roster of guest lecturers, predominantly Germans, and predominantly crazy. As Matt Damon would remind us, there were some good Germans. R., who was there for the first two months or so of my contract, was a decent well-balanced normal fella with whom I shared many a beer. The Sirens, as I ironically thought of them, were three attractive and normal-acting gentle-ladies of my own demographic who were also committed to taciturnity, unlike their namesakes. And there were some older fellas who seemed perfectly fine, but with the exception of an interesting half-hour discussing the blitzkrieg with one guy who was 70 or so I didn't interact with them much.
But then we come to the crazies. M, who was a German of Korean ancestry, and whom R had talked up and later introduced me to eagerly (since we shared a Korea connection) was fucking batshit crazy. At first I thought he was just one of those insecure people who talk too much about themselves, and who're commonly encountered among expatriate circles. But I think it was when he and I were walking down the street, cross current through a river of motor-bikes, and I made some innocent comment about being annoyed by all of them, and he then jumped in the air and with a way too loud "hee-YAH!" tried to dropkick the next bike that crossed our path, I think it was then that I knew he was crazy...
Then there was T, whose passions included talking about himself, talking about history, talking about anything basically. Imagine it's a sub-zero early morning. Imagine our hero, underdressed, shivering, waiting outside at the bus stop for the university's bus to take him to work. Imagine T, an even slighter, portlier fellow than our hobbit-like central character, at his elbow. Imagine 30 minutes have passed by in this Siberian purgatory, and Anthony is trying to hail a cab because it doesn't seem the bus will ever come. Frostbitten toes and fingers. A noseless future. Cold that makes me curse myself for ever damning the sultry sufferings of summer. And T is following me around like a guardian angel, totally ignoring the crisis at hand, and together with the cold talking my fucking ear off about the 7 year's war. This guy never shut up. Never ever ever. I can see him now, a doomed 3rd class passenger in the bowels of the sinking Titanic, consoling sobbing co-passengers with his thoughts about sauerkraut.
There was also Mr. S, who I more or less grew to like but who bugged the hell out of me at first. He was the other English teacher, and was a native Mauritian with Canadian residency. He'd lived an interesting life it seemed: he had published several books about Mauritius, served in its foreign service, and traveled extensively. He was also much older than I, and tho he couldn't hold a candle to T, he too was no stranger to over-speaking and seemed to be an expert in everything. He claimed to be a trained hypnotherapist, and insinuated several times that he would be happy to put me under to cure whatever ailed me. He believed in past lives, and his wife, D (who I only met once) was a renowned psychic (supposedly). (When I asked her to read my palm, all she would commit to was that I had a hard time holding onto money - which is certainly true, but considering that I was on my 5th or 6th $7 jack and coke at that point I remain dubious.) He also claimed to be a Christian, and when he finally squeezed it out of me that I was an atheist he kept bringing up issues of faith over and over again. He wore sunglasses inside almost all of the time, and a ring with an oversized purple gem on it constantly. He had more children than a Catholic prince, and all seemed to have accomplished great things - one was a brilliant doctor, one was the former Miss Mauritius, that sort of thing. But as I said I grew to like him, well, that's going too far...let's say I grew to dread his company less and less.
There were others, but I've covered the two I loathed the most, and Mr. S who was arguably the most intersting, and in so doing have expended more words than they merit. More Wuxi negativity to come.
The co-workers - man have I been waiting to talk shit about these guys. First, I want to make it clear, that I had no problem with my Chinese co-workers. They weren't the chattiest or friendliest bunch but they were more or less sane and helpful. My problem was with the other laowais (foreigners) employed by my school...
My students were enrolled in a German sponsored program designed to eventually send capable students abroad to study business and earn a bachelor's degree in said field. As such, throughout the semester we cycled through a roster of guest lecturers, predominantly Germans, and predominantly crazy. As Matt Damon would remind us, there were some good Germans. R., who was there for the first two months or so of my contract, was a decent well-balanced normal fella with whom I shared many a beer. The Sirens, as I ironically thought of them, were three attractive and normal-acting gentle-ladies of my own demographic who were also committed to taciturnity, unlike their namesakes. And there were some older fellas who seemed perfectly fine, but with the exception of an interesting half-hour discussing the blitzkrieg with one guy who was 70 or so I didn't interact with them much.
But then we come to the crazies. M, who was a German of Korean ancestry, and whom R had talked up and later introduced me to eagerly (since we shared a Korea connection) was fucking batshit crazy. At first I thought he was just one of those insecure people who talk too much about themselves, and who're commonly encountered among expatriate circles. But I think it was when he and I were walking down the street, cross current through a river of motor-bikes, and I made some innocent comment about being annoyed by all of them, and he then jumped in the air and with a way too loud "hee-YAH!" tried to dropkick the next bike that crossed our path, I think it was then that I knew he was crazy...
Then there was T, whose passions included talking about himself, talking about history, talking about anything basically. Imagine it's a sub-zero early morning. Imagine our hero, underdressed, shivering, waiting outside at the bus stop for the university's bus to take him to work. Imagine T, an even slighter, portlier fellow than our hobbit-like central character, at his elbow. Imagine 30 minutes have passed by in this Siberian purgatory, and Anthony is trying to hail a cab because it doesn't seem the bus will ever come. Frostbitten toes and fingers. A noseless future. Cold that makes me curse myself for ever damning the sultry sufferings of summer. And T is following me around like a guardian angel, totally ignoring the crisis at hand, and together with the cold talking my fucking ear off about the 7 year's war. This guy never shut up. Never ever ever. I can see him now, a doomed 3rd class passenger in the bowels of the sinking Titanic, consoling sobbing co-passengers with his thoughts about sauerkraut.
There was also Mr. S, who I more or less grew to like but who bugged the hell out of me at first. He was the other English teacher, and was a native Mauritian with Canadian residency. He'd lived an interesting life it seemed: he had published several books about Mauritius, served in its foreign service, and traveled extensively. He was also much older than I, and tho he couldn't hold a candle to T, he too was no stranger to over-speaking and seemed to be an expert in everything. He claimed to be a trained hypnotherapist, and insinuated several times that he would be happy to put me under to cure whatever ailed me. He believed in past lives, and his wife, D (who I only met once) was a renowned psychic (supposedly). (When I asked her to read my palm, all she would commit to was that I had a hard time holding onto money - which is certainly true, but considering that I was on my 5th or 6th $7 jack and coke at that point I remain dubious.) He also claimed to be a Christian, and when he finally squeezed it out of me that I was an atheist he kept bringing up issues of faith over and over again. He wore sunglasses inside almost all of the time, and a ring with an oversized purple gem on it constantly. He had more children than a Catholic prince, and all seemed to have accomplished great things - one was a brilliant doctor, one was the former Miss Mauritius, that sort of thing. But as I said I grew to like him, well, that's going too far...let's say I grew to dread his company less and less.
There were others, but I've covered the two I loathed the most, and Mr. S who was arguably the most intersting, and in so doing have expended more words than they merit. More Wuxi negativity to come.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Who Needs Tin? In Praise of Wuxi
("Wu Xi" = "No Tin")
Well, I made it out. I've left Wuxi, and I've no plans to return*. There were a lot of things that bugged me about the place, and we'll get to that, but I thought it best to focus on the positive first, and to praise the city as much as I can. Good things about Wuxi:
The People - the Chinese people that I came to know during my brief stay were, all in all, friendly, outgoing, helpful people. They may have been surprised to see a foreigner walking down the street, but they weren't leery of me, either.
The English - English was spoken more in Wuxi than in any other foreign city I've lived in. The Chinese, unlike the Koreans, seem to be much more willing to gamble "losing face" and speaking broken English to the laowai. Random everyday people: taxi drivers, McDonald's workers, strangers in bathrooms, travel agents...all were willing to try and communicate with me in my native tongue rather than bombarding me with a string of incomprehensible derka. I appreciated that.
The Food - the Wuxi style of Chinese food is a little sweet for my tastes, but there's a reason Chinese cuisine is one of the world's favorites.
The Foreign Amenities - Wuxi had more foreign bars, restaurants, and shops than any other Asian city I've lived in. There were 6 or 7 dedicated laowai bars/cafes, compared to Incheon, which has 2, and Bucheon which has 3. Again, Wuxi +1.
Well, I made it out. I've left Wuxi, and I've no plans to return*. There were a lot of things that bugged me about the place, and we'll get to that, but I thought it best to focus on the positive first, and to praise the city as much as I can. Good things about Wuxi:
The People - the Chinese people that I came to know during my brief stay were, all in all, friendly, outgoing, helpful people. They may have been surprised to see a foreigner walking down the street, but they weren't leery of me, either.
The English - English was spoken more in Wuxi than in any other foreign city I've lived in. The Chinese, unlike the Koreans, seem to be much more willing to gamble "losing face" and speaking broken English to the laowai. Random everyday people: taxi drivers, McDonald's workers, strangers in bathrooms, travel agents...all were willing to try and communicate with me in my native tongue rather than bombarding me with a string of incomprehensible derka. I appreciated that.
The Food - the Wuxi style of Chinese food is a little sweet for my tastes, but there's a reason Chinese cuisine is one of the world's favorites.
The Foreign Amenities - Wuxi had more foreign bars, restaurants, and shops than any other Asian city I've lived in. There were 6 or 7 dedicated laowai bars/cafes, compared to Incheon, which has 2, and Bucheon which has 3. Again, Wuxi +1.
The Omnipresent KFCs - holy fried chicken Batman, the Chinese are crazy about KFC. It's like Starbucks in Seattle, there's one on every corner. I found the fare to be alarmingly disgusting, but the ubiquity of the chain and its popularity with the Chinese I found to be, well, cute.
The Work - all in all, I enjoyed my job. The students were fairly advanced and fairly attentive, and the hours were great. I didn't care for the hour plus commute each way, but that's a minor quibble.
The Next Door Neighbors - Wuxi's close (an hour or so via train) to a lot of attractive cities - Shanghai, Nanjing, Suzhou and Hangzhou. Incheon has Seoul, and that's it, and Seoul's got nothing on Shanghai. Well, maybe a little something, but not much.
The Prices - I wasn't making much, which was part of why I left, but day to day I lived quite comfortably on under $20/day, and this includes boozing, taxi rides, things like that. China can be quite cheap.
That's about it.
*Of course, I wrote something similar after leaving Korea the first timeFriday, January 09, 2009
Of Dinner Parties
Why, oh why, did I answer the phone? When I came home Wednesday night I saw that I'd missed a call from my boss, and I knew there were only two reasons she might be calling: 1)something super important has happened and I must be informed (revolution, earthquake, etc.) or 2) she's inviting me to another staff party.
I'd deftly avoided previous engagements. I, ahem, forgot completely about my invitation to the first dinner party, and I, ahem, was sick the day of the end of term school-wide party and couldn't make it in. But when she called back a few minutes later, I, dumbass that I am, answered. Who knew? #1 could've been the reason.
It wasn't. And I couldn't say no again. So I agreed to attend the department farewell dinner the following day. Which was last night.
There's a reason I hate attending these sorts of things, because I know exactly how they'll go. And last night was exactly as I expected.
I'm seated at a table with a bunch of Chinese teachers with whom I've shared an office for four months of minimal social interaction. They're chatting away gaily in Chinese. I'm alternating between taking bites of the fatty slabs of meat circulated around the table on the lazy susan and sipping my awful Great Wall red wine. Someone from another table, half-drunk, comes to ours and toasts our health and the new year. Everyone stands up, clinks glasses together, something is said in Chinese, and we sit down. Back to the awful food and awful wine. No, wait, here comes some more awful company! Everyone stands up again, toasts the gathered company, and sits again. Repeat repeat repeat.
After two hours I excused myself. Well, I didn't make an excuse, I just got up, said happy new year, and left. I must remember not to answer the phone.
I'd deftly avoided previous engagements. I, ahem, forgot completely about my invitation to the first dinner party, and I, ahem, was sick the day of the end of term school-wide party and couldn't make it in. But when she called back a few minutes later, I, dumbass that I am, answered. Who knew? #1 could've been the reason.
It wasn't. And I couldn't say no again. So I agreed to attend the department farewell dinner the following day. Which was last night.
There's a reason I hate attending these sorts of things, because I know exactly how they'll go. And last night was exactly as I expected.
I'm seated at a table with a bunch of Chinese teachers with whom I've shared an office for four months of minimal social interaction. They're chatting away gaily in Chinese. I'm alternating between taking bites of the fatty slabs of meat circulated around the table on the lazy susan and sipping my awful Great Wall red wine. Someone from another table, half-drunk, comes to ours and toasts our health and the new year. Everyone stands up, clinks glasses together, something is said in Chinese, and we sit down. Back to the awful food and awful wine. No, wait, here comes some more awful company! Everyone stands up again, toasts the gathered company, and sits again. Repeat repeat repeat.
After two hours I excused myself. Well, I didn't make an excuse, I just got up, said happy new year, and left. I must remember not to answer the phone.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
"The Wind Began To Howl"
It's coming...and I can't wait. The super cool Japanese Watchmen trailer:
And the older one's still good, too:
And the older one's still good, too:
Scrutiny
Tuesday was final exam day for the 2nd years, and it was a long day.
Mr. S and I had decided to combine classes and judgment in order to give a more balanced assessment of the students. One by one the students had to come into the cavernous meeting room, sit down across from us at the oversized table in an uncomfortable chair, and try to speak for 3 minutes or so about some random topic.
I'd been uncharacteristically industrious and drafted 18 possible topics for my students to speak on, ranging from the more basic "what are your plans for the future?" to questions requiring a little more nuance, such as: "why is corruption so rampant in China and how can it be prevented?" Mr. S was less so, he prepared three topics, the first two moderately difficult and the last one more general "do you like to travel? Describe some travel experiences yadda yadda." About 70% of his students spoke on that topic. By the end I was ready to poke the next student who began speaking about travel in the eye with my pen.
Mr. S allowed his students to choose their topic, I selected the topics for my students when they sat down and only gave them one minute to prepare. Mr. S's students were better-polished because of it, but I was satisfied more or less with my students' performance. There were some delightfully schadenfreude(sp)-ian moments, tho, like when a student who'd been absent from my class since September walked in to take the final as if nothing were amiss. I told him to speak about this topic: "why branding is so important for global companies." We'd covered it in class. He looked at me doe-eyed and said "what does this mean, branding." I said "we talked about it in class, now either speak or get out."
Well, really I was a little kinder. But the douchebag still failed.
Each examination required about 5 minutes or so, the first minute for them to prepare and make notes, three for them to speak, and the last minute for follow up questions and getting the next student situated. 5 minutes each. We have about 150 students. You do the math and then ask yourself why I slept in this morning.
If your answer is because I'm lazy and I don't have to go into work today, give yourself a gold star. In fact, I don't have to go into work for quite some time. Ah, the joys of university life.
Mr. S and I had decided to combine classes and judgment in order to give a more balanced assessment of the students. One by one the students had to come into the cavernous meeting room, sit down across from us at the oversized table in an uncomfortable chair, and try to speak for 3 minutes or so about some random topic.
I'd been uncharacteristically industrious and drafted 18 possible topics for my students to speak on, ranging from the more basic "what are your plans for the future?" to questions requiring a little more nuance, such as: "why is corruption so rampant in China and how can it be prevented?" Mr. S was less so, he prepared three topics, the first two moderately difficult and the last one more general "do you like to travel? Describe some travel experiences yadda yadda." About 70% of his students spoke on that topic. By the end I was ready to poke the next student who began speaking about travel in the eye with my pen.
Mr. S allowed his students to choose their topic, I selected the topics for my students when they sat down and only gave them one minute to prepare. Mr. S's students were better-polished because of it, but I was satisfied more or less with my students' performance. There were some delightfully schadenfreude(sp)-ian moments, tho, like when a student who'd been absent from my class since September walked in to take the final as if nothing were amiss. I told him to speak about this topic: "why branding is so important for global companies." We'd covered it in class. He looked at me doe-eyed and said "what does this mean, branding." I said "we talked about it in class, now either speak or get out."
Well, really I was a little kinder. But the douchebag still failed.
Each examination required about 5 minutes or so, the first minute for them to prepare and make notes, three for them to speak, and the last minute for follow up questions and getting the next student situated. 5 minutes each. We have about 150 students. You do the math and then ask yourself why I slept in this morning.
If your answer is because I'm lazy and I don't have to go into work today, give yourself a gold star. In fact, I don't have to go into work for quite some time. Ah, the joys of university life.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Year In Review - Audio/Visual Awards
(Because you demanded it...more wikipedia links!!)
And we (that's the royal we, btw) wrap up our look at 2008 with our ridiculously out-of-touch take on the best films, TV shows, and music experienced by...guess the pronoun...us.
Best Film: (Tie) The Dark Knight and the inexplicably poorly reviewed Funny Games. Both films had me on the edge of my seat.
Best TV Series: LOST, season 4. They really got the show back on track with this season, and I can't wait for season 5 to start.
Best (newish) Album: Back to Black, Amy Winehouse. Ok ok, I know this came out in 2006, but I don't listen to that much new music and I didn't get this until 2008. But it's a great album.
Best Guilty Pleasure: American Idol, season 7. It's a good think nobody reads my blog otherwise I'd be embarrassed to admit I watched every episode of this...
Best Individual Episode: Goodbye, Toby. The last episode of The Office's season 4. The running gag about Kevin being mentally disabled had my sides splitting.
Most Listened-To Song: Pressing On, from the Bob Dylan gospel songs album. Yes, I listen to gospel music.
Most Watched TV Series: Star Trek DS9. Earlier in the year I downloaded a few seasons and watched them in Korea, a few weeks ago in China I found a 7 season DVD package and have been working my way through that. It's still probably my favorite show of all time, definitely my favorite drama.
Most Anticipated Film of 2009: Watchmen. Boy I hope they don't fuck it up. I'm also looking forward to the new Star Trek and Harry Potter films. Yes, I'm a geek.
And we (that's the royal we, btw) wrap up our look at 2008 with our ridiculously out-of-touch take on the best films, TV shows, and music experienced by...guess the pronoun...us.
Best Film: (Tie) The Dark Knight and the inexplicably poorly reviewed Funny Games. Both films had me on the edge of my seat.
Best TV Series: LOST, season 4. They really got the show back on track with this season, and I can't wait for season 5 to start.
Best (newish) Album: Back to Black, Amy Winehouse. Ok ok, I know this came out in 2006, but I don't listen to that much new music and I didn't get this until 2008. But it's a great album.
Best Guilty Pleasure: American Idol, season 7. It's a good think nobody reads my blog otherwise I'd be embarrassed to admit I watched every episode of this...
Best Individual Episode: Goodbye, Toby. The last episode of The Office's season 4. The running gag about Kevin being mentally disabled had my sides splitting.
Most Listened-To Song: Pressing On, from the Bob Dylan gospel songs album. Yes, I listen to gospel music.
Most Watched TV Series: Star Trek DS9. Earlier in the year I downloaded a few seasons and watched them in Korea, a few weeks ago in China I found a 7 season DVD package and have been working my way through that. It's still probably my favorite show of all time, definitely my favorite drama.
Most Anticipated Film of 2009: Watchmen. Boy I hope they don't fuck it up. I'm also looking forward to the new Star Trek and Harry Potter films. Yes, I'm a geek.
Why I Hate The Chinese Internets
1. Go to any computer in China.
2. Log onto the internets and type in "google.com."
3. Wait 15 seconds for the page to load.
4. Close the window, and open a new one.
5. Type in "google.cn."
6. Notice how the page loaded instantaneously?
2. Log onto the internets and type in "google.com."
3. Wait 15 seconds for the page to load.
4. Close the window, and open a new one.
5. Type in "google.cn."
6. Notice how the page loaded instantaneously?
The Year In Review - The Tonys
(Also with Wikipedia links!!)
No, not those Tonys, these Tonys reward moments in our (not so) young (anymore) hero's life during the past year.
Best Moment of the Year: The epiphany I had sometime in September about never going home again.
Worst Moment of the Year: (Tie) Borrowing money from my parents, again. And waking up in a sleazy hotel room in Rome with about 100 bug bites all over my body.
Most Embarrassing Moment: hob-nobbing with the Wuxi-German glitterati at a local night club, drinking too much, and let's just say attracting too much negative attention to myself.
Best Places I Visited: Koh Samet, Thailand and Barcelona.
Worst Place I Visited: Naples. Maybe it was the garbage in the streets, the slack jawed scoundrels on ever corner, or the fact that I spent most of my time there scratching said bug bites, but I didn't like it. The pizza was good, tho.
The Hey We Should've Planned This Award: Missing out on the running of the bulls in Pamplona.
Strangest Culinary Experience: Eating fish heads for dinner in Wuxi. Runner up: eating homemade kimchi jigae with some Koreans Joey and I met in Paris (thanks to his "waegukin" shirt) - it was delicious, btw.
The Aren't We Friends Award: Throwing beer on Dave and then fighting in the streets of Florence. Good times.
Worst Airline Experience: 7 hours from Dublin to New York next to a chatty well-fed Irish lass.
It Could've Been Worse Airline Experience: 14 hours New York to Beijing with an aisle seat and an empty seat to t'other side.
The Bad Blokes Award: Me, Dave, Bryce, and Stephen, for getting too drunk and almost starting a fight with a bunch of Irishmen. Details here.
Favorite Engrish Encounter: "Sun your buns in hell" on a T-shirt.
Best Asia-Themed Youtube Video: Kickin' It In Geumchon.
No, not those Tonys, these Tonys reward moments in our (not so) young (anymore) hero's life during the past year.
Best Moment of the Year: The epiphany I had sometime in September about never going home again.
Worst Moment of the Year: (Tie) Borrowing money from my parents, again. And waking up in a sleazy hotel room in Rome with about 100 bug bites all over my body.
Most Embarrassing Moment: hob-nobbing with the Wuxi-German glitterati at a local night club, drinking too much, and let's just say attracting too much negative attention to myself.
Best Places I Visited: Koh Samet, Thailand and Barcelona.
Worst Place I Visited: Naples. Maybe it was the garbage in the streets, the slack jawed scoundrels on ever corner, or the fact that I spent most of my time there scratching said bug bites, but I didn't like it. The pizza was good, tho.
The Hey We Should've Planned This Award: Missing out on the running of the bulls in Pamplona.
Strangest Culinary Experience: Eating fish heads for dinner in Wuxi. Runner up: eating homemade kimchi jigae with some Koreans Joey and I met in Paris (thanks to his "waegukin" shirt) - it was delicious, btw.
The Aren't We Friends Award: Throwing beer on Dave and then fighting in the streets of Florence. Good times.
Worst Airline Experience: 7 hours from Dublin to New York next to a chatty well-fed Irish lass.
It Could've Been Worse Airline Experience: 14 hours New York to Beijing with an aisle seat and an empty seat to t'other side.
The Bad Blokes Award: Me, Dave, Bryce, and Stephen, for getting too drunk and almost starting a fight with a bunch of Irishmen. Details here.
Favorite Engrish Encounter: "Sun your buns in hell" on a T-shirt.
Best Asia-Themed Youtube Video: Kickin' It In Geumchon.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Year In Review: Book Awards
(Now with Wikipedia links!)
My 2008 book awards, drafted by the committee of me, approved by me, ratified by me.
Best New Book I Read: The Yiddish Policemen's Union. Who knew Alaskan Jews could be so treacherous and so much fun?
Best Book I Didn't Finish: A Perfect Spy. Not because I won't, it's just that I started this in the last week of the year and haven't gotten through it yet. If it finishes as well as it's begun it might be the best spy novel I've ever read.
Best Book I Re-Read: (Tie) Lolita, Foucault's Pendulum, Victory, Harry Potter 6. I re-read a lot of books this year, and these remain among my favorite books of all time. Christopher Hitchens re-reads Lolita every year, and I have to say that he's on to something. I was languishing with an insipid turd of a novel (see next entry) when I came across a copy of Lolita in a Barcelona book store. I picked it up (my 3rd copy of it, actually), dropped what I was reading and didn't regret it. Foucault's Pendulum is another of my favorites, those masters of the world are just always interesting to me. Victory is one of my favorite Conrad novels in part because its hero reminds me so much of myself. And for pop-lit giddiness there's nothing more fun than the tail end of the Harry Potter series.
Most Disappointing: The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana. Eco is the author of some of my favorite books (the aforementioned Foucault's Pendulum and The Name of the Rose) but this one was a self-centered dud.
Maybe The Nazis Were Right Award: Gravity's Rainbow. Let me quote from the wikipedia page:
"Frequently digressive, the novel subverts many of the traditional elements of plot and character development, traverses detailed, specialist knowledge drawn from a wide range of disciplines, and has earned a reputation as a "difficult" book."
Ha! Difficult doesn't begin to describe the pointless meandering and constant confusing shifts in perspective and setting. Trying to read this novel is essentially signing one's self up for a headache. Burn it!
The What Did I Get Myself Into?!, But...It's Still Interesting Award: Guns, Germs, and Steel. This book is bigger and drier than the Sahara, but, some of its ideas are very important.
Don't Skimp On The Editor Award: I Am Charlotte Simmons.
Best Fantasy Novel Called "The Hobbit": The Hobbit.
Most Read Author Of The Year: John le Carre. This year I read Call For the Dead, The Honourable Schoolboy, Smiley's People, The Night Manager, Single & Single and The Mission Song (and I'm almost through A Perfect Spy). This man can write.
Book That Inspired Me To Write Something Myself: Travels With My Aunt. I think I wrote almost two full pages of fiction before I went back to watching TV.
Started It But Saved It For Later Award: Cryptonomicon.
Hat's Off To My Hero Award: Nostromo, by my personal hero (one of them anyway) - Joseph Conrad. When I came to China I brought this and the two other Conrad novels that have inspired me - Victory and Lord Jim. I fully expected to read Lord Jim first, I was after all a stranger in a strange land and somewhat on the run like Jim, but for whatever reason I didn't get around to it. I was in no hurry to get back to the sprawling Nostromo, I'd only read it once and quite liked it but it wasn't as impactful for me as the other two. I picked it up on a lark one lazy Starbucks afternoon and didn't put it down for quite a while. I had remembered the portrait of Sulaco, the political intrigue, the dire appraisals of men with ambition that is so typical of Conrad, but I also remembered after reading it the first time thinking the novel had been wrongly named. Nostromo, the character, though a large part of the story, doesn't figure prominently until the last acts of the drama. The novel could have just as easily been named "Gould" or "DeCoud," two other characters in the story. Well, I was wrong. I appreciated it much more during this second reading, and I think the novel is aptly named because of Nostromo's fate - his death (all great Conrad characters die at the end of their stories, except Marlow) is our lesson.
Well, that's enough navel-gazing for now. More to come.
My 2008 book awards, drafted by the committee of me, approved by me, ratified by me.
Best New Book I Read: The Yiddish Policemen's Union. Who knew Alaskan Jews could be so treacherous and so much fun?
Best Book I Didn't Finish: A Perfect Spy. Not because I won't, it's just that I started this in the last week of the year and haven't gotten through it yet. If it finishes as well as it's begun it might be the best spy novel I've ever read.
Best Book I Re-Read: (Tie) Lolita, Foucault's Pendulum, Victory, Harry Potter 6. I re-read a lot of books this year, and these remain among my favorite books of all time. Christopher Hitchens re-reads Lolita every year, and I have to say that he's on to something. I was languishing with an insipid turd of a novel (see next entry) when I came across a copy of Lolita in a Barcelona book store. I picked it up (my 3rd copy of it, actually), dropped what I was reading and didn't regret it. Foucault's Pendulum is another of my favorites, those masters of the world are just always interesting to me. Victory is one of my favorite Conrad novels in part because its hero reminds me so much of myself. And for pop-lit giddiness there's nothing more fun than the tail end of the Harry Potter series.
Most Disappointing: The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana. Eco is the author of some of my favorite books (the aforementioned Foucault's Pendulum and The Name of the Rose) but this one was a self-centered dud.
Maybe The Nazis Were Right Award: Gravity's Rainbow. Let me quote from the wikipedia page:
"Frequently digressive, the novel subverts many of the traditional elements of plot and character development, traverses detailed, specialist knowledge drawn from a wide range of disciplines, and has earned a reputation as a "difficult" book."
Ha! Difficult doesn't begin to describe the pointless meandering and constant confusing shifts in perspective and setting. Trying to read this novel is essentially signing one's self up for a headache. Burn it!
The What Did I Get Myself Into?!, But...It's Still Interesting Award: Guns, Germs, and Steel. This book is bigger and drier than the Sahara, but, some of its ideas are very important.
Don't Skimp On The Editor Award: I Am Charlotte Simmons.
Best Fantasy Novel Called "The Hobbit": The Hobbit.
Most Read Author Of The Year: John le Carre. This year I read Call For the Dead, The Honourable Schoolboy, Smiley's People, The Night Manager, Single & Single and The Mission Song (and I'm almost through A Perfect Spy). This man can write.
Book That Inspired Me To Write Something Myself: Travels With My Aunt. I think I wrote almost two full pages of fiction before I went back to watching TV.
Started It But Saved It For Later Award: Cryptonomicon.
Hat's Off To My Hero Award: Nostromo, by my personal hero (one of them anyway) - Joseph Conrad. When I came to China I brought this and the two other Conrad novels that have inspired me - Victory and Lord Jim. I fully expected to read Lord Jim first, I was after all a stranger in a strange land and somewhat on the run like Jim, but for whatever reason I didn't get around to it. I was in no hurry to get back to the sprawling Nostromo, I'd only read it once and quite liked it but it wasn't as impactful for me as the other two. I picked it up on a lark one lazy Starbucks afternoon and didn't put it down for quite a while. I had remembered the portrait of Sulaco, the political intrigue, the dire appraisals of men with ambition that is so typical of Conrad, but I also remembered after reading it the first time thinking the novel had been wrongly named. Nostromo, the character, though a large part of the story, doesn't figure prominently until the last acts of the drama. The novel could have just as easily been named "Gould" or "DeCoud," two other characters in the story. Well, I was wrong. I appreciated it much more during this second reading, and I think the novel is aptly named because of Nostromo's fate - his death (all great Conrad characters die at the end of their stories, except Marlow) is our lesson.
Well, that's enough navel-gazing for now. More to come.
The Year in Review
I'm a world away, at least culturally, but I try to keep up to date on what's hip. You have no idea how embarrassed I was when I returned home last time and had no idea who Miley Cyrus was (still don't).
One way I often use to get a read on what I've missed is the ever popular year's best lists that show up this time of year. Amazon.com, metacritic, the New York Times...everyone's got one. I take a gander at them and then I know what I should've picked up last year and what I should look into during the next.
With the end of the semester and dawning interregnum boredom seems statistically very probable for your's truly. So the other day (actually, last night, I couldn't sleep - you try sleeping on a mattress that's as soft as a moon rock) I said to myself "Hey, Anthony, why don't you make your own? Sure, you're ridiculously out of touch and no one gives a damn what you think, but heck, it'll pass the time."
So I think I will.
One way I often use to get a read on what I've missed is the ever popular year's best lists that show up this time of year. Amazon.com, metacritic, the New York Times...everyone's got one. I take a gander at them and then I know what I should've picked up last year and what I should look into during the next.
With the end of the semester and dawning interregnum boredom seems statistically very probable for your's truly. So the other day (actually, last night, I couldn't sleep - you try sleeping on a mattress that's as soft as a moon rock) I said to myself "Hey, Anthony, why don't you make your own? Sure, you're ridiculously out of touch and no one gives a damn what you think, but heck, it'll pass the time."
So I think I will.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Bloggers' Best 2008
I thought this story was interesting, and I wanted to pass along the link.
Also: Happy New Year! So long 2008...it was an up and down year for the world, and the same was true for me. I had some really good times, and some really bad ones. Here's hopin' 2009'll be more stable.
Also: Happy New Year! So long 2008...it was an up and down year for the world, and the same was true for me. I had some really good times, and some really bad ones. Here's hopin' 2009'll be more stable.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
The Secret Blunderer
I recently read about some disturbing news in Kunming, a city in southern China. It reminded me of Conrad's novel The Secret Agent, in which an idiotic young man accidentally blows himself to bits while carrying a bomb around town.
The news is this: some Chinese d00d with a grudge in Kunming walked into the local expat hangout a few days ago apparently with the plan to blow a good chunk of it and its patrons away. Luckily, he messed up, and you can read about his death here.
Thank gawd for the internets or I would've never heard about this, the English language media here never reports about anything negative or anything that might put China or its citizens in something other than the best possible light. I never understood how boring propaganda can be until I started watching CCTV9 - the english language Chinese news network. But I'll save my rant about them for another day.
All in all, I'm glad the only one hurt was the bomber himself.
The news is this: some Chinese d00d with a grudge in Kunming walked into the local expat hangout a few days ago apparently with the plan to blow a good chunk of it and its patrons away. Luckily, he messed up, and you can read about his death here.
Thank gawd for the internets or I would've never heard about this, the English language media here never reports about anything negative or anything that might put China or its citizens in something other than the best possible light. I never understood how boring propaganda can be until I started watching CCTV9 - the english language Chinese news network. But I'll save my rant about them for another day.
All in all, I'm glad the only one hurt was the bomber himself.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Shanghai Scammers
The end of the term is fast approaching, thank gawd, and I have a nice little break coming up. I've been planning to go to Shanghai for at least a few days, maybe a week, just to stretch my legs a little bit.
Unfortunately I'm dreading some very likely encounters with scammers and/or touts. I visited Shanghai for an afternoon a few weeks ago and mistakenly decided to stroll down Nanjing Lu, the most famous shopping street in town. I was probably approached 20 times in a few hours by the "tea girls" and dozens of times by touts selling their crap wares. You can read details about Shanghai scams on this thread; also, I quite like the picture halfway down the page.
I have some experience with these people. This summer I was pickpocketed three times while in Barcelona (though thankfully I noticed what was happening each time before they got away). And during my first visit to China, the first place I went was Tianamen(sp) Square, and the first thing I encountered were a couple of "students" who wanted to take me to their "art gallery." I didn't fall for it, thankfully. There was also the street urchin I literally had to kick in the face to leave me alone, but the records on that incident are sealed and I will say no more - unless you get me drunk.
I've yet to encounter the "bag swipers on mopeds" yet, and hope I never will. Those guys sound good.
Although everyone with experience with these people counsels "ignore them, smile and try to walk away, be polite," and though I've followed that advice before, I think I'm going to go about it differently next time it happens. The first person who comes up to me and says "excuse me, do you speak English," I'm going to answer "yes, fuck you."
It should make for an interesting visit. I'll keep you posted.
Unfortunately I'm dreading some very likely encounters with scammers and/or touts. I visited Shanghai for an afternoon a few weeks ago and mistakenly decided to stroll down Nanjing Lu, the most famous shopping street in town. I was probably approached 20 times in a few hours by the "tea girls" and dozens of times by touts selling their crap wares. You can read details about Shanghai scams on this thread; also, I quite like the picture halfway down the page.
I have some experience with these people. This summer I was pickpocketed three times while in Barcelona (though thankfully I noticed what was happening each time before they got away). And during my first visit to China, the first place I went was Tianamen(sp) Square, and the first thing I encountered were a couple of "students" who wanted to take me to their "art gallery." I didn't fall for it, thankfully. There was also the street urchin I literally had to kick in the face to leave me alone, but the records on that incident are sealed and I will say no more - unless you get me drunk.
I've yet to encounter the "bag swipers on mopeds" yet, and hope I never will. Those guys sound good.
Although everyone with experience with these people counsels "ignore them, smile and try to walk away, be polite," and though I've followed that advice before, I think I'm going to go about it differently next time it happens. The first person who comes up to me and says "excuse me, do you speak English," I'm going to answer "yes, fuck you."
It should make for an interesting visit. I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
My China Moto
I like to indulge the occasional explorer fantasy with random internet searches, and today I came across mychinamoto.com, a website for dirt bike riders in China, especially those who like to ride their bikes West out of the sprawling cities and into the underpopulated countryside.
I found this post, and I can't wait to do something similar, once I get myself a dirt bike, 30,000 RMB or so, and balls the size of watermelons like the author has. But anyway it's an interesting read.
I found this post, and I can't wait to do something similar, once I get myself a dirt bike, 30,000 RMB or so, and balls the size of watermelons like the author has. But anyway it's an interesting read.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
PC Room Stories
Since I've been in China, for that matter since I left Korea in July, I have been operating sans computer. This has not been easy, in part because I can't search for porn, waste time with video games, or illegally download music and tv shows like I used to. But I've also been forced to rely on my local PC room, which is something less than perfect.
First let me just get away with praising Korea once more. Korean PC bangs, despite being dark smelly generally unhappy places, represent the difference between flying first class and hanging on for dear life as a stow-away amidst the cargo whence compared to their Chinese counterparts.
My biggest complaint is how much the internet sucks here. It's slower than the short bus in reverse. Time wasters like youtube, facebook, and the washington post are all more or less inaccessible because of The Great Firewall that protects the people's republic here.
Then there's the filth. Public PC rooms are typically not the cleanest of places, whether you're in sunny Barcelona or chilly Seoul. But the ones in China have managed to distinguish themselves. Roaches are abundant, well-organized, and bold; I can't count how many times I've had one crawl across my keyboard and caress my typing hands before I recoiled in horror, shrieking like a banshee. And one time I avoided my local PC room for an entire week, a lifetime in Internet hours, because a rat jumped from the ceiling and landed a few feet away from me before scurrying away into the impenetrable darkness.
Also, the computers are all locked away, protected in a plastic cage, meaning you can't open the CD drive to play Age of Empires or even plug in your iPod to try and charge it.
The quality of people you meet at these places is also something less than spectacular. I remember the first time I walked into one, I encountered a stream of giggly derka before I finally realized they wanted to see my passport, and when I logged onto the computer and couldn't spot the ubiquitous Internet Explorer icon, I asked the helper dude a single word I thought he might understand: "Internet?" It's a cognate in Korean and anyway I thought surely someone who spends so much time around computers must know that word, whether he's Chinese or not. Instead he looked dumbfounded, pointed at me, and then made some joke to his buddy.
This last one's the kicker, tho, the gawkers. I come into my local PC room now 5 or 6 times a week, so I'm more or less a fixture and no one pays me any mind. But every now and then there'll be some newbie who's never seen me before and who just has to check up on what the laowai's doing with a computer. Just the other day I had some guy walk over to my chair and stand behind me, alternatively watching me and my monitor, for something like 30 minutes. At one point I turned around and stared at him for a good 15 seconds, but it did no good. For him, watching me read wikipedia and check email was a fulfilling and rewarding way to pass the time.
I will not miss these places.
First let me just get away with praising Korea once more. Korean PC bangs, despite being dark smelly generally unhappy places, represent the difference between flying first class and hanging on for dear life as a stow-away amidst the cargo whence compared to their Chinese counterparts.
My biggest complaint is how much the internet sucks here. It's slower than the short bus in reverse. Time wasters like youtube, facebook, and the washington post are all more or less inaccessible because of The Great Firewall that protects the people's republic here.
Then there's the filth. Public PC rooms are typically not the cleanest of places, whether you're in sunny Barcelona or chilly Seoul. But the ones in China have managed to distinguish themselves. Roaches are abundant, well-organized, and bold; I can't count how many times I've had one crawl across my keyboard and caress my typing hands before I recoiled in horror, shrieking like a banshee. And one time I avoided my local PC room for an entire week, a lifetime in Internet hours, because a rat jumped from the ceiling and landed a few feet away from me before scurrying away into the impenetrable darkness.
Also, the computers are all locked away, protected in a plastic cage, meaning you can't open the CD drive to play Age of Empires or even plug in your iPod to try and charge it.
The quality of people you meet at these places is also something less than spectacular. I remember the first time I walked into one, I encountered a stream of giggly derka before I finally realized they wanted to see my passport, and when I logged onto the computer and couldn't spot the ubiquitous Internet Explorer icon, I asked the helper dude a single word I thought he might understand: "Internet?" It's a cognate in Korean and anyway I thought surely someone who spends so much time around computers must know that word, whether he's Chinese or not. Instead he looked dumbfounded, pointed at me, and then made some joke to his buddy.
This last one's the kicker, tho, the gawkers. I come into my local PC room now 5 or 6 times a week, so I'm more or less a fixture and no one pays me any mind. But every now and then there'll be some newbie who's never seen me before and who just has to check up on what the laowai's doing with a computer. Just the other day I had some guy walk over to my chair and stand behind me, alternatively watching me and my monitor, for something like 30 minutes. At one point I turned around and stared at him for a good 15 seconds, but it did no good. For him, watching me read wikipedia and check email was a fulfilling and rewarding way to pass the time.
I will not miss these places.
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