I'm pretty sure there's time when words can spill from your fingers. Today, is not one of them, nor are most. But I find myself wondering about the world, so I might as well type away.
I was walking home from dinner today and realized one on those things that's right in front of your face but veiled by the monotony of everyday life. Within the walls of my apartment complex there's a little fruit and vegetable stand. The couple that owned the stand were closing up. It was dark and getting progressively frigid. They had hung a tarp to protect their produce from Beijing's freezingness, and were beginning to cook their dinner outside on the sidewalk on a small gas stove. It smelled great as I walked by, so I looked twice. First glances tend to be cursory, second glances tend to aroused by a need for more substance. And it was on glance number two that I realized what I already knew, this couple lived with the fruits of their labor. (I just liked how that sounds, but the meaning is weak.) But their fruit stand is the same as their home. Their kitchen is the sidewalk. Squatting down in front of their front door for light and heat, they ate their food.
Beijing is getting cold. Really cold. Every night in our apartment, I'm freezing, and getting up in the morning is impossible. Beijing still hasn't turned on the heat. It's hard to imagine that this couple sleeps in their fruit stand in the depth of winter.
So something I already knew became real to me. And I think it's important to mention that this is life in Beijing. And as easy as it is label this couple's standard of living poor or unfair, such a description doesn't fit.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
命运
Do you believe in fate?
Is there a road laid out before you leading towards destiny? And will straying from this path possible? And who exactly walked has this path before you to make it so 顺利 for lack of a better word?
Frost took the path less traveled, but did not dare mention the possibility blazing his own path. And what about today? The decision placed before a person like myself might be more aptly described as the hub innumerable city streets, high speed highways, and air routes. Were the decision as simple as two paths, trampled and untrampled, perhaps the idea of fate would seem less appealing. The number two is prime for analysis: Yes or no? Good or bad? Will or won't? The word "or" was designed for dissecting 2. The human mind can handle 2. But how does our vocabulary reflect 3? Shakespeare's love triangles end in tragedy. 4? Descartes' Cartesian quadrants. 23? Micheal Jordan? 383? 9630? 1.3435? We spend enough time defining our lives with bipolar pairs of words. Can we really handle an infinite amount?
Of course, this is assuming less is simpler and more is more difficult. Computers don't drive cars (at least not yet) because they can't handle the "infinite" amount of variables necessary to make left turns at an intersection. They lack judgment. But that being said, humans can rarely decide between paper and plastic.
And yet, despite it all do you believe in fate? A single road calling your name to come home. Interestingly enough, I base my most of my theories about fate on a cheap teen movie, Can't Hardly Wait. The protagonist, Preston, is graduating from high school, and he thinks- No- he knows this girl (played by Jennifer Love Hewitt) is the one. All the signs point to it. I mean, this girl's eats his favorite flavor of Pop Tart. And throughout high school he watches from afar, as she dates the quarterback. And on the last part of high school after graduation, he wants to give her a letter about it all, but chickens out or something, I forget. But the point is he throws the letter away, but it finds its way to Jennifer Love Hewitt anyway. She reads it and is moved, but Preston's already left and she has no idea who he is. 当时, he's sitting on the hood of his car despairing over the cruelty of fate, when he realizes or the song he's listening to makes him realize: Destiny exists, but there comes a point when destiny can't work on its own, a point where you decide to jump or not to jump. In other words, the destiny's path can be effortless if you want it to be, but there comes a point when it needs a little faith.
Anyway, he gets the girl, and I've based a lot of my ideas about fate on this movie. (interesting, how media is affecting our lives these days) The lessons we learn in class, read in books, see on TV, always emphasize the one's ability to seize fate when it comes before you. Some may say it is simply seizing the opportunity, but I think there's still a subtle difference that is not mentioned on all these stories: The ability to see clearly, even if it isn't clear to others, and trust it. How did Ali know he was The Greatest? We look at Ali's work ethic, his lyrical sayings, and his records. But how did he know that boxing was worth it? When he was 11 or 12, his brand new bike was stolen, and he was pissed. So he went looking. He came across a gym, and knew that in addition to getting his bike back he wanted a little vengeance. And so he started boxing. But how did he recognize it? How did Preston convince himself that the Pop Tart thing was not a coincidence? It's so easy not to believe in fate, to let decide to stop following a path that has been tailored especially for you because it doesn't add up.
Yet things catch our eye. Things that computers wouldn't see: Pop tarts and stolen bikes. And these signs give us what Intel would define as "irrational" hope. But when is hope rational?
I'm sitting here in this coffee shop. What catches my eye? The inside of my coffee cup reflects the intervals of my sips with tree-trunk-like rings of dried coffee. But the Bob Marley in my headphones has sung about 15 songs now, but I couldn't tell one. And what does this say about my fate?
One, I might have a lot of trouble sleeping tonight. Caffeine after 5 o'clock rarely agrees with me.
Two, I don't really think it means anything in relation to my official future, but who knows. Maybe, somebody will read this post and be moved by my words and invest in me. Or the girl of my dreams will realize that she also has noticed that her coffee cup is painted with rings of five minute sips. But a computer my computer predicates, nothing much will happen. But who knows?
What does this ramble add up too? I think I'm destined. I always have. But I fear I don't have what it takes grasp destiny when it presents itself. Actually, I change my mind, I don't believe in fate, except for the fact that if I keep writing I'll be fated to fail my midterm.
me and my chinese roommate actin' gangsta.
Is there a road laid out before you leading towards destiny? And will straying from this path possible? And who exactly walked has this path before you to make it so 顺利 for lack of a better word?
Frost took the path less traveled, but did not dare mention the possibility blazing his own path. And what about today? The decision placed before a person like myself might be more aptly described as the hub innumerable city streets, high speed highways, and air routes. Were the decision as simple as two paths, trampled and untrampled, perhaps the idea of fate would seem less appealing. The number two is prime for analysis: Yes or no? Good or bad? Will or won't? The word "or" was designed for dissecting 2. The human mind can handle 2. But how does our vocabulary reflect 3? Shakespeare's love triangles end in tragedy. 4? Descartes' Cartesian quadrants. 23? Micheal Jordan? 383? 9630? 1.3435? We spend enough time defining our lives with bipolar pairs of words. Can we really handle an infinite amount?
Of course, this is assuming less is simpler and more is more difficult. Computers don't drive cars (at least not yet) because they can't handle the "infinite" amount of variables necessary to make left turns at an intersection. They lack judgment. But that being said, humans can rarely decide between paper and plastic.
And yet, despite it all do you believe in fate? A single road calling your name to come home. Interestingly enough, I base my most of my theories about fate on a cheap teen movie, Can't Hardly Wait. The protagonist, Preston, is graduating from high school, and he thinks- No- he knows this girl (played by Jennifer Love Hewitt) is the one. All the signs point to it. I mean, this girl's eats his favorite flavor of Pop Tart. And throughout high school he watches from afar, as she dates the quarterback. And on the last part of high school after graduation, he wants to give her a letter about it all, but chickens out or something, I forget. But the point is he throws the letter away, but it finds its way to Jennifer Love Hewitt anyway. She reads it and is moved, but Preston's already left and she has no idea who he is. 当时, he's sitting on the hood of his car despairing over the cruelty of fate, when he realizes or the song he's listening to makes him realize: Destiny exists, but there comes a point when destiny can't work on its own, a point where you decide to jump or not to jump. In other words, the destiny's path can be effortless if you want it to be, but there comes a point when it needs a little faith.
Anyway, he gets the girl, and I've based a lot of my ideas about fate on this movie. (interesting, how media is affecting our lives these days) The lessons we learn in class, read in books, see on TV, always emphasize the one's ability to seize fate when it comes before you. Some may say it is simply seizing the opportunity, but I think there's still a subtle difference that is not mentioned on all these stories: The ability to see clearly, even if it isn't clear to others, and trust it. How did Ali know he was The Greatest? We look at Ali's work ethic, his lyrical sayings, and his records. But how did he know that boxing was worth it? When he was 11 or 12, his brand new bike was stolen, and he was pissed. So he went looking. He came across a gym, and knew that in addition to getting his bike back he wanted a little vengeance. And so he started boxing. But how did he recognize it? How did Preston convince himself that the Pop Tart thing was not a coincidence? It's so easy not to believe in fate, to let decide to stop following a path that has been tailored especially for you because it doesn't add up.
Yet things catch our eye. Things that computers wouldn't see: Pop tarts and stolen bikes. And these signs give us what Intel would define as "irrational" hope. But when is hope rational?
I'm sitting here in this coffee shop. What catches my eye? The inside of my coffee cup reflects the intervals of my sips with tree-trunk-like rings of dried coffee. But the Bob Marley in my headphones has sung about 15 songs now, but I couldn't tell one. And what does this say about my fate?
One, I might have a lot of trouble sleeping tonight. Caffeine after 5 o'clock rarely agrees with me.
Two, I don't really think it means anything in relation to my official future, but who knows. Maybe, somebody will read this post and be moved by my words and invest in me. Or the girl of my dreams will realize that she also has noticed that her coffee cup is painted with rings of five minute sips. But a computer my computer predicates, nothing much will happen. But who knows?
What does this ramble add up too? I think I'm destined. I always have. But I fear I don't have what it takes grasp destiny when it presents itself. Actually, I change my mind, I don't believe in fate, except for the fact that if I keep writing I'll be fated to fail my midterm.
me and my chinese roommate actin' gangsta.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
interesting chengyu's/sayings:
现在，我又健康又经历。 我们都应该往往逃课休息休息。
站着坑不拉屎- sit on the toilet without shitting (to be present but not working)
打狗，得看主人- before beating a dog find out who the owner is
吹牛皮- to blow cow hide (talk bullshit)
牛B- cow B, (to be honest i don't really know what this means but the response i get after using it depends on my audience, old teachers try to kill me and young teachers laugh, "fuckin' tight" might be a close approximation)
狼心狗肺- wolf's heart, dog's lungs (cruel, heartless)
女子无才便是德- dumb women are virtuous (apparently stems from Confucius or something)
狗改不了吃屎- can't make a dog stop eating shit (can't teach an old dog new tricks)
Anyway, I'm obviously growing ; )
站着坑不拉屎- sit on the toilet without shitting (to be present but not working)
打狗，得看主人- before beating a dog find out who the owner is
吹牛皮- to blow cow hide (talk bullshit)
牛B- cow B, (to be honest i don't really know what this means but the response i get after using it depends on my audience, old teachers try to kill me and young teachers laugh, "fuckin' tight" might be a close approximation)
狼心狗肺- wolf's heart, dog's lungs (cruel, heartless)
女子无才便是德- dumb women are virtuous (apparently stems from Confucius or something)
狗改不了吃屎- can't make a dog stop eating shit (can't teach an old dog new tricks)
Anyway, I'm obviously growing ; )
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
back from xi'an
Sometimes it feels like I've been anchored in the stream of time. A moment repeated and repeated; the only changed is the weather outside. Coming back from our class field trip to Xi'an, I felt the trickle of monotony dripping slowly on the back on my mind.
But there is something different about going to school in Beijing, especially here at ACC. Everyday is literally the same: daily quiz, four classes, lunch, nap, workout, HW, study, dinner, study, sleep. Yet, I enjoy the self-enforced discipline that ACC inspires. What makes it more amazing is that "grades" at ACC are inflated to the point where it doesn't matter how hard you work, yet everyone here works to the limits of their patience and beyond. Perhaps, it's because our progress, though not obvious, is recognizable. Everyday we learn at least one new word or grammar structure that makes our lives seem all the more clearer.
Of course, there is the complaint that we have NO time to explore, no time to use our language, no time to rest. They're all valid. But the feeling of improvement is a powerful motivator for me. It allows me to sacrifice a lot. But then again, I'm taking the day off today to recover from a minor cold and catch up on life, something that's subtly accepted at ACC.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Saturday, October 6, 2007
mornings after
my head is throbbing from a night of gallivanting. i'm tired and hungry. it's pouring outside. my roommates are asleep or dead in their rooms. and somebody up above has decided that hammering is his new hobby.
the apartment is cold and dark. i haven't bothered to turn on any lights, and the windows are open. i'm waiting on an email to come flying in, but it's yet to arrive. expectations of the unknown are torturous.
last night was nothing special, just another night to be added to the list of drinking, crazy dancing, and late-night philosophizing. hemingway wrote in one of those books of his, that night and day are two entirely different worlds. the night gives birth to hopes that day can only be pregnant with. but hemingway forgot to mention the third world, the morning after. a small, gaseous planet gray with disappointment.
and thus, i wait. for nothing really. i should start editing my video. i should go to the gym. i should go back to bed. i should do a lot of things. and the worst part is i don't know what i want to do.
but last night was really fun and eventful, don't get me wrong.
the apartment is cold and dark. i haven't bothered to turn on any lights, and the windows are open. i'm waiting on an email to come flying in, but it's yet to arrive. expectations of the unknown are torturous.
last night was nothing special, just another night to be added to the list of drinking, crazy dancing, and late-night philosophizing. hemingway wrote in one of those books of his, that night and day are two entirely different worlds. the night gives birth to hopes that day can only be pregnant with. but hemingway forgot to mention the third world, the morning after. a small, gaseous planet gray with disappointment.
and thus, i wait. for nothing really. i should start editing my video. i should go to the gym. i should go back to bed. i should do a lot of things. and the worst part is i don't know what i want to do.
but last night was really fun and eventful, don't get me wrong.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
mediums of self and meaning
Sometimes I wish I could slip out of this blog and stop trying to find words to capture the world and the mind. Sometimes I wish I could be broadcast loud, clear, and free. And upon reception, the receiver would display with crystal clarity the fuzziness of thought; be it emotional, rational, or kinetic.
I sometimes think that if, in some other world during some other time, it was possible for someone else to BE me for just a day but still maintain their own objective identity, I'd be able to learn a lot. So much time is spent these days discovering how humans are more similar than we ever thought: DNA, psychological conditioning, instinctual tendencies, etc. And then we spend the rest of the time, breaking these models apart, finding difference: racism, classes, genders, etc. And then, maybe when you get older, I think you just kind of give up spending/wasting your time on these questions: Balance.
Nevertheless, I want to be free of the boundaries separating self from medium, medium from audience, and audience from their selves. Just for a day, I want to know: Although my life is normal, am I? Am I simply a bunch of electric signals flying around a brain? And if I am, is the motion and behavior of the electric signals at least unique?
Want me to relate this to China? Too easy, because this is life's boundary-less question. The mortar making up the foundations of countries, cultures, and languages is exactly this question. And when it dries, the foundation is strong enough for the structure to be raised, and it's interior inhabitated. But the answer's are shallow, the foundation can only support so tall a tower. The Bible warns us about trying to build to heaven, does it not? Religion, nationalism, and even science fail to take you beyond. What is China? A guessed answer to this question, shared by many.
me and some acc kids at the talib kweli concert (one of my favorite musicians). who would of thought he would come to beijing to perform?
I sometimes think that if, in some other world during some other time, it was possible for someone else to BE me for just a day but still maintain their own objective identity, I'd be able to learn a lot. So much time is spent these days discovering how humans are more similar than we ever thought: DNA, psychological conditioning, instinctual tendencies, etc. And then we spend the rest of the time, breaking these models apart, finding difference: racism, classes, genders, etc. And then, maybe when you get older, I think you just kind of give up spending/wasting your time on these questions: Balance.
Nevertheless, I want to be free of the boundaries separating self from medium, medium from audience, and audience from their selves. Just for a day, I want to know: Although my life is normal, am I? Am I simply a bunch of electric signals flying around a brain? And if I am, is the motion and behavior of the electric signals at least unique?
Want me to relate this to China? Too easy, because this is life's boundary-less question. The mortar making up the foundations of countries, cultures, and languages is exactly this question. And when it dries, the foundation is strong enough for the structure to be raised, and it's interior inhabitated. But the answer's are shallow, the foundation can only support so tall a tower. The Bible warns us about trying to build to heaven, does it not? Religion, nationalism, and even science fail to take you beyond. What is China? A guessed answer to this question, shared by many.
me and some acc kids at the talib kweli concert (one of my favorite musicians). who would of thought he would come to beijing to perform?
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