Archive for March, 2007

Friday, March 30th, 2007

jesse_sestito_zero.jpg

One of a kind?

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Whatchu bloggin’ ’bout, Willis?

Thursday, March 29th, 2007

In yet another sign of desperation, President Bush, the leader of the free world, went as far as to quote a blogger (not me) when trying to give credibility to his assessment of the conditions on the ground in Iraq.  More than anything else, this further goes to show the proliferation of the blogosphere into mainstream politics. But whether it increases or calls into question the reliability of the message of those who use them as sources is still not clear.

The following is an excerpt from the March 28 Press Briefing from Dana Perino (filling in for former FOX commentator and current White House Press Secretary Tony Snow, who is out after he was re-diagnosed with colon cancer this past weekend).
Q: In his speech today, the President also quoted from a blogger in Iraq as an example of positive developments there, people who see positive developments. Is this really representative of what’s going on in Iraq, one blogger? Is this what the White House is relying on?

MS. PERINO: No, Jessica, you have to look at all the different inputs that are coming in, and General Petraeus’s reports, and from the commanders on the ground, and your own colleagues’ reporting over there. We know that there are real challenges. Obviously, real challenges remain. We have lots of violence. But I think what the President was doing was taking an opportunity to talk about what one person’s expression is. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t other people having that same expression. Certainly nobody can deny what General Petraeus has been saying and reporting.*

Q Dana, back on the issue of the bloggers, the unnamed Iraqi bloggers that the President cited and tried to use to help make his argument for progress in Iraq — this is an administration that doesn’t respond to anonymous quotes in established media outlets here in the United States. The President is citing these anonymous — two anonymous Iraqi bloggers to help make the argument –

MS. PERINO: It’s one input from many different inputs that are coming in regarding progress on the ground.

Q Isn’t that a little ironic, though?

MS. PERINO: No, I don’t think it is. You guys call me with anonymous quotes that you want me to respond to all of the time, and sometimes I do. Sometimes I do. I have before.

Q But as a tactic, for him to be — is there something that prompted that specific –

MS. PERINO: I’ll look into the — I think that maybe somebody found it compelling, the President wanted to include it in his speech. And I’ll see if I can get more for you on it, but I don’t think it’s unusual. Blogs are new for all of us, and I know that you all look at them, because then you call me and ask me what we think about the blogs.

Q On the speech today, on these bloggers, does the White House know the identity, or is this just something someone came across –

MS. PERINO: Can I check? I don’t know, I’ll have to check. It was quoted in a Wall Street Journal article at some point. I think I let some of you know that this morning.

Q And just now the White House came upon them?

MS. PERINO: I’m not sure. I don’t know if somebody saw it initially. I don’t know. We can try to check into it. We keep records on that.
*Omar and Mohammed Fadhil write an English-language blog, IraqTheModel.com, from Baghdad. These two brothers, who are both dentists, met with President Bush in the Oval Office on December 9, 2004. Their writings have been widely sited in news outlets like the Washington Post, Los Angeles Times and Investor’s Business Daily. On March 5, 2007, they authored an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal entitled “Notes from Baghdad.”

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Appreciate debate

Thursday, March 29th, 2007

In the spirit of the SAT, which I scored a 930 on (or was it a 390?), I give you this:

Cherry blossom is to Spring as cleavage is to ぎりぎり(girigiri) girls.

Bare tree is to Winter as shoulder is to ちらリスム (chirarism).

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Fuel

Tuesday, March 27th, 2007

A potent combination:

Business meetings with ever-flowing baijiu and an email from Mom who demands not to be quoted in my blog.

Sometimes your blog is just whacked. Are you smoking crack or what. You must have to much time on your hands or not spending enough time communicating with others.
Is there anyone there you can speak enlish too. You seem lost in your own head and believe me that is not a good place to be. And DO NOT and I repeat DO NOT post this on your blog.
I get worried when you start rambling and cussing. It isn’t good. Take care of your mental health. You are a million miles away and honestly I have no way of knowing how you really are. So please don’t rant.

Love
W

No use copy/pasting, so I’ll just give my response here.

Yo, ro, shi, ku

You spelled English wrong and mixed up your 2s. I don’t need to speak English when I have a smile like this :-)

Time is on my side, not my hand.

It’s rambling in your head, poetry in mine.

First you’ll ask me to stop ranting. Next is flaunting, and finally flatulating. I’ll be the only guy full of gas and ego if you get your way. Lemme do my thug thizzle.

Get at me W(orm),

Smarty pants Sestito

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Monday, March 26th, 2007

Retreating ambition, seeking solace in the same velvet couches that harbor discarded pocket change, he edged closer to the roped off entrance, dressed head to tow in finely pressed self-doubt.

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Monday, March 26th, 2007

Chastity exists wholly in a life seduced by feardom

Control asymmetrically in shriveled palms

Progress ambiguously in us all

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Monday, March 26th, 2007

The 蛋 is done, now it’s time for some 饭

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ddouble

Monday, March 26th, 2007

groped, her body occupied by loneliness

mind entertaining a betrayal of dependence

heart wobbling like a drunken penguin

a March of decayed desire

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Vatican Roulette

Sunday, March 25th, 2007

Him: But I don’t have protection.

Her: It doesn’t matter.

Him: Yeah. We have coitus interruptus.

Her: No. If you pull out, the terrorists win.

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Terminology

Sunday, March 25th, 2007

I’d been carry around the term “hyphenated American” in my back pocket for quite a while, but until a few weeks ago, had never felt compelled to use it. Today, out of intellectual curiosity, I gave it the G treatment. Turns out, according to answers.com (I couldn’t access wikipedia because of the whole censorship thing going on here), “the term “hyphenated” was in slang use by 1893, and was common as a derogatory term by 1904.

Nowadays, most usage experts recommend dropping the hyphen because it implies to some people dual nationalism and inability to be accepted as truly American. The Japanese American Citizens League is supportive of dropping the hyphen because the non-hyphenated form uses their ancestral origin as an adjective for ‘American’.

By contrast, other groups have embraced the hyphen, arguing that the American identity is compatible with alternative identities and that the mixture of identities within the United States strengthens the nation rather than weakens it.

And still other, more enlightened figures, stand in opposition of including other nationalities, hyphen in between or not, before “American”…and they’re in good company.

During World War I the issue arose of the primary political loyalty of ethnic groups with close ties to Europe, especially German Americans (and also Irish Americans).” Former President Theodore Roosevelt delivered a gem of a speech to an Irish Catholic audience in 1915. I’ve copied that speech below. Arguably better, and certainly more succinctly put, was one sentence from former President Woodrow Wilson who regarded “hyphenated Americans” with suspicion. He said, “Any man who carries a hyphen about him carries a dagger that he is ready to plunge into the vitals of this Republic whenever he gets ready.”

… There is no room in this country for hyphenated Americanism. When I refer to hyphenated Americans, I do not refer to naturalized Americans. Some of the very best Americans I have ever known were naturalized Americans, Americans born abroad. But a hyphenated American is not an American at all. This is just as true of the man who puts “native” before the hyphen as of the man who puts German or Irish or English or French before the hyphen. Americanism is a matter of the spirit and of the soul. Our allegiance must be purely to the United States. We must unsparingly condemn any man who holds any other allegiance. But if he is heartily and singly loyal to this Republic, then no matter where he was born, he is just as good an American as any one else.

The one absolutely certain way of bringing this nation to ruin, of preventing all possibility of its continuing to be a nation at all, would be to permit it to become a tangle of squabbling nationalities, an intricate knot of German-Americans, Irish-Americans, English-Americans, French-Americans, Scandinavian-Americans or Italian-Americans, each preserving its separate nationality, each at heart feeling more sympathy with Europeans of that nationality, than with the other citizens of the American Republic. The men who do not become Americans and nothing else are hyphenated Americans; and there ought to be no room for them in this country. The man who calls himself an American citizen and who yet shows by his actions that he is primarily the citizen of a foreign land, plays a thoroughly mischievous part in the life of our body politic. He has no place here; and the sooner he returns to the land to which he feels his real heart-allegiance, the better it will be for every good American. There is no such thing as a hyphenated American who is a good American. The only man who is a good American is the man who is an American and nothing else.

For an American citizen to vote as a German-American, an Irish-American, or an English-American, is to be a traitor to American institutions; and those hyphenated Americans who terrorize American politicians by threats of the foreign vote are engaged in treason to the American Republic.

Americanization

The foreign-born population of this country must be an Americanized population - no other kind can fight the battles of America either in war or peace. It must talk the language of its native-born fellow-citizens, it must possess American citizenship and American ideals. It must stand firm by its oath of allegiance in word and deed and must show that in very fact it has renounced allegiance to every prince, potentate, or foreign government. It must be maintained on an American standard of living so as to prevent labor disturbances in important plants and at critical times. None of these objects can be secured as long as we have immigrant colonies, ghettos, and immigrant sections, and above all they cannot be assured so long as we consider the immigrant only as an industrial asset. The immigrant must not be allowed to drift or to be put at the mercy of the exploiter. Our object is to not to imitate one of the older racial types, but to maintain a new American type and then to secure loyalty to this type. We cannot secure such loyalty unless we make this a country where men shall feel that they have justice and also where they shall feel that they are required to perform the duties imposed upon them. The policy of “Let alone” which we have hitherto pursued is thoroughly vicious from two stand-points. By this policy we have permitted the immigrants, and too often the native-born laborers as well, to suffer injustice. Moreover, by this policy we have failed to impress upon the immigrant and upon the native-born as well that they are expected to do justice as well as to receive justice, that they are expected to be heartily and actively and single-mindedly loyal to the flag no less than to benefit by living under it.

We cannot afford to continue to use hundreds of thousands of immigrants merely as industrial assets while they remain social outcasts and menaces any more than fifty years ago we could afford to keep the black man merely as an industrial asset and not as a human being. We cannot afford to build a big industrial plant and herd men and women about it without care for their welfare. We cannot afford to permit squalid overcrowding or the kind of living system which makes impossible the decencies and necessities of life. We cannot afford the low wage rates and the merely seasonal industries which mean the sacrifice of both individual and family life and morals to the industrial machinery. We cannot afford to leave American mines, munitions plants, and general resources in the hands of alien workmen, alien to America and even likely to be made hostile to America by machinations such as have recently been provided in the case of the two foreign embassies in Washington. We cannot afford to run the risk of having in time of war men working on our railways or working in our munition plants who would in the name of duty to their own foreign countries bring destruction to us. Recent events have shown us that incitements to sabotage and strikes are in the view of at least two of the great foreign powers of Europe within their definition of neutral practices. What would be done to us in the name of war if these things are done to us in the name of neutrality?

One America

All of us, no matter from what land our parents came, no matter in what way we may severally worship our Creator, must stand shoulder to shoulder in a united America for the elimination of race and religious prejudice. We must stand for a reign of equal justice to both big and small. We must insist on the maintenance of the American standard of living. We must stand for an adequate national control which shall secure a better training of our young men in time of peace, both for the work of peace and for the work of war. We must direct every national resource, material and spiritual, to the task not of shirking difficulties, but of training our people to overcome difficulties. Our aim must be, not to make life easy and soft, not to soften soul and body, but to fit us in virile fashion to do a great work for all mankind. This great work can only be done by a mighty democracy, with these qualities of soul, guided by those qualities of mind, which will both make it refuse to do injustice to any other nation, and also enable it to hold its own against aggression by any other nation. In our relations with the outside world, we must abhor wrongdoing, and disdain to commit it, and we must no less disdain the baseness of spirit which lamely submits to wrongdoing. Finally and most important of all, we must strive for the establishment within our own borders of that stern and lofty standard of personal and public neutrality which shall guarantee to each man his rights, and which shall insist in return upon the full performance by each man of his duties both to his neighbor and to the great nation whose flag must symbolize in the future as it has symbolized in the past the highest hopes of all mankind.

“Our aim must be, not to make life easy and soft, not to soften soul and body, but to fit us in virile fashion to do great work for all mankind.”

How great is that line? President Roosevelt killed it!

These days I’ve spent a lot of time reading speeches from former Presidents. They have a special flare that the Bushes and, yes, even Clinton, lack. I wonder if it’s the politics or the people, the ideals or experiences, that leave me feeling deprived. If today’s so-called leaders could articulate ideals like those and combine them with the current means of distributing information, would we even be discussing apathy towards politics?


Text message of the day

Sunday, March 25th, 2007

still sleepy…
what is ur blog ab? i lost my contact last night! was going to buy one but i was too tired. gotta work with one eye…wanna get surgery…

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Painting News

Saturday, March 24th, 2007

Keen on great design and painting?

Then you’d check out the newly released portfolio from my site’s creator, Paul Torres.

www.paultorres.net

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Burbs

Wednesday, March 21st, 2007

In High School, a friend and I made a trip to the suburbs to visit his girlfriend. All the houses looked the same, and all the streets had a name that could be mistaken for a aromatherapy candle, like Fragrant Orchard Lane or Happy Grove Place. We called after reaching her street.

“Which house?”, we asked.

“The one with a basketball hoop, Mercedes in the driveway, and trash cans out front”, she said.

“That’s all of them!”, we said in unison.

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Thai Hospitality: Running on low?

Wednesday, March 21st, 2007

On my tour of SE Asia, I couldn’t stop writing. I was filling up my Moleskine so quickly that I had to start writing in super small print just to ensure that I didn’t run out of space before I returned to Japan. It didn’t work and I had no choice but to buy a shabby notepad in Laos. I stopped recording daily entries altogether when I returned to China (because I wanted to live a “common” life).

Anyway, you may have noticed that for every date I was traveling in SE Asia, a corresponding entry in this blog does not exist. That is mostly do to lack of time and motivation to transfer my thoughts from paper to the PC. If you really live something 100%, I believe, then once is enough. No need for flipping through the photo album or reading old entries.

I must admit, however, that it is also partly do to self-censoring. I do have a couple of entries that are ready to be posted here, but I have yet to press the ‘publish’ button. One is from Thailand and details my first (of three) nights on Patpong, a red light district in Bangkok. You have seen the pictures from Patpong in the Gallery. Another is from Cambodia and details the night when I was hoodwinked by a guy with one ear and was offered a one night stand from a Laos/Khmer fire cracker.

Today I read an article about the growing strain in the relationship between tourists and Thai people. It closely mirrored my observations made while in Bangkok - a begrudgingly accepted interdependence of falangs, free markets, and paid love.
Before visiting Thailand, everything I had read and heard about Thai people was positive. Friendly, benevolent, warm-hearted, etc. I remember writing about my experience in the Chengdu airport, before catching my flight to Bangkok, about the cool demeanor of some young Thais that were on the same flight. I hoped it was a sample of what was to come. And it was, at least while I was in the airport. My flight landed in the middle of the night, so I had to hang out for 7 or 8 hours. A security guard and I started talking and he was more than helpful, retrieving maps for me and offering tidbits about Thai people and politics. But my final impression of Thais was that they were a people of frustration. I use “frustration” because the definition I found - defeated: disappointingly unsuccessful - most accurately describes what I sensed from them and, by the time I left, felt in my own heart.

“Asia’s most exciting city” was actually a twisted economic initiative in which a race to the lowest common moral denominator begets foreign currency…and I was accomplice to it. They got my USD, my time. They also got me thinking.

Thai women may be the most beautiful in the world. Hell, even the lady boys look good. I once wrote on the LBs, “You never know, so if you don’t roll that way, my advice is to keep your distance…or learn the hard way.” I digress. After a late night at the bar, I would wake very early in the morning to take walks, observing the locals commuting to work. Young Thai women, the same age as the strippers and hookers (and the same age as me) at the bars, dressed business casual, waiting in the smog-filled humid august air for an air condition-less bus to carry them to the office. What was the source of the worn look on their faces? Were they the same girls from the night before? Like superheroes, changing uniforms? If not, where did their paths diverge from the others? Had they been the recipient of a more privileged upbringing? Or, after all, was it just a matter of choices? What did they think we (foreigners) felt about them? Did they care? I had so many questions…and only a woman could answer them, which brings us to excerpts from the Thai entry titled “Thai Girls Gone Wild”.

If at first you don’t succeed, Thai Thai again. I did it Thai way. Nothing you can say can take me away from Thai girls. Thai me up Thai me down. Pick your poison. All our suitable, especially since things change in an instant. But we still can’t find Pad Thai noodles.

A few points. First, in my opinion, traveling to another country and not making a connection with a local is equivalent of going to a fine restaurant and not checking out the bathroom - it’s the worst case scenario. I try to eat local food, transport as the “common” people do, etc. But most important is dialogue, idea exchange. I’m in Thailand, I want to talk to Thai people. And if I have the opportunity to do so, especially with someone so beautiful, you’d better believe I won’t pass up the opportunity. Carpe diem, baby!

Second, thus far I’ve found that the locals in Bangkok make it especially difficult to have any meaningful exchange because one is not sure if they’re talking to you out of genuine interest or just as a transition to sell something. In all fairness, maybe she was trying to sell me something, but nonetheless, I was willing to take that risk, not only because she was beautiful, but because, and this is my final point, I firmly stand behind my belief that the best way to know a culture is through its women. They are synthesizers of it all, good and bad.

Skip ahead…

Before I go on about how this unforgettable night unfolded, let me explain a few things. First, I think its kind of pitiful that Bangkok is known, most notably, for its red light industry. Second, I don’t see the point - not only because I believe it helps perpetuate the cities reputation but, more importantly, because it doesn’t interest, stimulate me. And I can say that because I’ve seen it all before. Besides, in my opinion, there seems to be little practicality in paying to see or get something you should otherwise be able to obtain pro bono.

Was it the Singha (beer)? Was it peer pressure? I don’t except either as reasons why I went ahead with it. As one author wrote, “liquor does not intoxicate; one intoxicates oneself / lust does not blind; one blinds oneself…” In the end, I must say, unapologetically, I wanted the experience. Bangkok is what it is. They’ve positioned themselves (no pun intended), so I’m just playing in an environment that has been created by the people and co-signed by the government.
And a Bonus. Here is an excerpt from the Laos entry.

Taking a break from dancing, I sat down and saw a girl waving in my direction, motioning to come onto the dance floor. I didn’t recognize her, so I thought she was targeting someone behind me.

But then she walked up to me. Super petite and quite cute, her name was Miah. Half Lao, Half Khmer, she explained. I should have known she wasn’t 100% Khmer, otherwise she wouldn’t have been so cute. I hate to say it, but Khmer women are not attractive. Lao women, as I would find in the months to come, are rather pretty.

“You want to dance”, she asked? ” “No thanks, I have a girlfriend” “Where”, she replied? “In Japan”, I countered. I smiled, pleased with myself. Brow wrinkled, looking confused, she said, “Well, your in Cambodia, enjoy your holiday.” Impressed by her whit, I conceded a small chuckle while I gathered my response. “Do you have a boyfriend?”, I asked, expecting a negative reply. “Yes”, she said. “Where?” “In Canada.” “Then?”, I exclaimed, but she already had a response. “Let me finish”, she said with all the attitude that her small frame could contain. “But sometimes I like to have fun. Tonight. One night. No problem.”

Whoa!

To be honest, I’ve never had a one night stand. Well, except with myself. And actually, I’ve never been propositioned to have one. Or, at least not so frankly. I politely declined and she only said, “But I like you”, before walking away. Later, when I was preparing to leave, I saw her again. She gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek and said, “But I really like you”.
It’s irrelevant. No deal.

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Stay in your lane

Monday, March 19th, 2007

On Saturday, after 2 hours of sleep, I woke up to send my debit card to Japan. I needed to pay some bills.

Having received packages from overseas before, I knew well the intensity with which the Japanese customs agents perform their job (i.e. they open every package).

Today I received an email from the intended recipient stating that a customs agent called to ask some questions, a lot of questions.

Do you know this person?

What is your relationship with this person?

Do you live with this person?

Why is this person sending you this?

When will this person return to Japan?

Why not wait until this person returns to Japan?

If I send my card, why is it any of their concern? Is it not enough that my name and contact information is under the “From” field and the intended recipient’s name and contact info is under the “To” field?

How hard I am holding back the urge to write a rabble-rousing blanket statement, you have no idea.

But if I lost sleep to send a package that is not delivered, I’m gonna boycott sushi (but not sashimi, and definitely not natto).

どもありがとうミスタロバト

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Tyson v. Van gogh

Saturday, March 17th, 2007

Who am I?

Fight back or paint a picture? How to (de)ear-itate?

How about this - grab some bbq, a couple of brews, and kick back with your mates, an internet connection, a pirated DVD of the West Wing, the Chinese version of CSI, and a bunch of other stuff.

Rock out to this!
olw-photo-qq.gif

Photo 23.jpg

Photo 53.jpg

Photo 49.jpg

Photo 47.jpg

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Or something

Saturday, March 17th, 2007

Sometimes the tragedy of a relationship is not that it ends, but that it doesn’t.

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This morning

Friday, March 16th, 2007

I walked outside and the world’s largest street sweeper drives past, spewing an unidentified liquid from it’s back and blaring the “Happy Birthday to you” melody.

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t-shirts, tattoos, and aprons

Wednesday, March 14th, 2007

I don’t have a problem with any of them. You all know my fondness for t-shirts. In fact, I helped lead the proliferation of plain, white-ts in Cincinnati. While everyone else was paying out the wazoo for Phat Farm and Fubu, I was rockin’ steady with no-brand ts in a rainbow of colors.

Tats? I don’t have one, but I can certainly appreciate the art form.

Aprons? I’ve been known to put one on.

But do the three mix? Well, if there’s a grill and meat involved. But when there’s not? Listen up.

I’d had the same family dentist, Dr. Wittenbrook, for a as long as I could remember. It was my junior or senior year of University, and I needed to get a couple of cavities filled. I asked my Mom to schedule me an appointment. She said okay, but informed me that we had new insurance, so Dr. W. would no longer be my dentist. Fine with me, I thought.

A few weeks later, I made my way to the new dentist, located in Western Hills Plaza. Do you know what a “plaza” is? It’s an outdoor shopping mall. Maybe some people are into the one stop shopping thing, but not me. Steak? Check. New CDs? Check. Clothes? Check. Fillings? Check??? It’s just not right. I need separation of tooth and steak.

Inside, there was a not so sexy receptionist. She said there was a problem with my insurance. I flirted. Nothing. I waited for a while. Finally, the dentist came out - white-t, tatted arms, and a white apron. Can I at least get a white coat or a pair of blue scrubs?

I’m an eternal optimist, so I thought they might have a cafeteria in the back. I remembered that Dr. W. always gave me a toy when I visited. Maybe this place cooked burgers for their grown up patients. But I didn’t see a spatula in his hand.

My insurance still wasn’t registering, so I used the opportunity to excuse myself. I called my Mom: “Yo, have you been there?”. Turns out she hadn’t. Beware of the dentist who looks like a Waffle House chef, I warned her.

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Dialogue of the day - 3/11/07

Monday, March 12th, 2007

Fu: Our bathroom light is out.

Me: I know, I took a shit in the dark.

Fu: I used my cell phone.

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