Reshuffling.

Nothing I'm writing here is really all that interesting, I'm sure. Basically I think that I've been sort of a mess, and I'm in a very fruitful process of fixing it. I really was just going to write a couple of sentences about how I'm reconstructing and remolding my life, but it just sorta kept going, so now there's just a sewer of consciousness that follows...I figure you'll only read if you cared anyway...

So the stark reality is that my life has been all confused and disorderly for awhile now. I am not going to go into any details, but things have been very difficult for the past few months, and I have not been happy. More than not being happy, I refused to recognize much of my own unhappiness and simply never took a moment to be even the slightest bit introspective about what was happening in my life. On the surface, I drank a lot, smoked a lot of cigarettes, ate a lot of crappy food, didn't sleep, and did not do my work. I no longer sought understanding of my courses, but merely did my readings without a second though. My life felt entirely undisciplined, and it was very unrewarding.

I am not quite the person that I want to be, and the person that I was when I was most myself, and most happy just to be me. I have lost track of myself at times and have once again gone adrift. I float by on a patchwork of fleeting desires and instinctive impulses without foundation or principle. I want to be clear though, that this is nothing dreary or existential. Despite the fact that I was living entirely on the surface, the presence of good friends and a vibrant social life for the first time at Harvard has actually made me quite happy. For the first time, Harvard introduced me to a life where I did not feel like I knew any good people. And I'm glad that now I do.

One thing I am very happy about is that I am rediscovering the essential acts of living. More than anything else, understanding the value of simple acts of living was the most important lesson I learned in India. These are the moments in my life when I feel like I am in total control. When I am entirely on my own time and in my own space. And I feel entirely satisfied.

I love taking time to slowly and deliberately clean my home. I love sweeping the corners, wiping the counters, and arranging the pots and pans. I love to go grocery shopping in the local market down the street and coming home loaded down with apples, asparagus, shallots, shiitakes, fresh baby greens, clementines, garlic, and string beans (that's what I got this wednesday). I like to wash and clean fresh vegetables and whip them into a never fully-satisfying but always-healthy meals. I love chopping garlic into little pieces and throwing them into a sizzling pan of olive oil. I love washing my clothes, with the exception of my terrifying basement, and folding them and hanging them up. I love buying potted plants and flowers and placing them around the apartment. (incidentally, I have the blackest thumb ever. my apartment is where plants come to die.)

When I get into these moments and these moods, it's so bizarre, but my movements slow down. I walk through the grocery store without any urgency. I pick up an apple and examine it slowly, and calmly place it into my basket. I don't throw anything, and I don't drop anything into a bag. I walk back from the grocery with deliberation and careful slow steps. I wait at stop lights and don't charge into the street to beat the oncoming traffic. I watch other people on the streets, peer into the cars of people driving by, and catch glimpses of people in their homes. I become very quiet. I take out my headphones and just listen to what's around me. I act like an old man. But in these moments, I am always content. I am always thankful. I become entirely grossed in the deliberate acts of living, and it's wonderful.

This must have been the boringest thing I've ever posted here...when all I really needed to say is I like being a traditional housewife to myself. I don't even know where I was going with all of this anymore...oh well.

I do think that giving up meat for about a month, and then giving up cigarettes for the past 3 weeks have definitely had an impact on me. I feel different now. I no longer feel weak. I no longer feel like a wretch who is entirely consumed by vice. In fact, I feel proud of myself and I have faith in myself. And I think it has been awhile since I've honestly been able to feel like I'm on the right track. So....yeah.

Now it's time to go to the gym. I would continue to ramble, but I'm not even sure what I was writing about in the first place. Basically, I think I'm doing well and finding some peace. And I'm thankful for it. And I thought I'd share that with you.

Redistribution.

A thought that gave me pause today, concerning the redistribution of wealth, is that inter-familial transfers of wealth is exceedingly rare except in emergencies or times of special need. That is, generally rich siblings do not redistribute their wealth to their poorer siblings.

Now, it's possible to take this thought and run wild and be annoying with it and use it as some justification for an extreme interpretation of political policy...but I'm just going to ignore that aspect of it and note that it is something really worth considering if you're generally against income redistribution.

(Note: Progressive taxation is not the same thing as redistribution, unless you want to be annoying about it...at which case you're annoying and I'm not listening.)

God.

If you didn't follow the link that....someone posted...I forgot who, then I highly, highly, highly suggest you go now.

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/

Yes. It is as good as it sounds. Here are some random sentence excerpts from much longer and funnier posts...hopefully to prod you into taking a look.

#75: Threatening to move to Canada.

"Note: Canadian white people threaten to move to Europe.
Note: Europeans are unable to threaten to move anywhere."

#71: Being the only white person around

In most situations, white people are very comforted by seeing their own kind. However, when they are eating at a new ethnic restaurant or traveling to a foreign nation, nothing spoils their fun more than seeing another white person....

The arrival of the “other white people” to either restaurants or vacation spots instantly means that lines will grow, authenticity will be lost, and the euphoria of being a cultural pioneer will be over.

#67: Standing still at concerts

If you find yourself invited to a concert with a white person, do NOT expect to dance. Prepare yourself for three hours of standing reasonably still. It is also advised to get a beer or (if legal) a cigarette so you have something to do with your hands. Although it is acceptable to occasionally raise one hand and point just above the stage.

#62: Knowing what's good for poor people

#58: Japan

#11: Asian Girls

".... Should white guy / asian girl marry, they produce hybirds that are aestically pleasing, but are very annoying...."

Working from Home.

I am working from home all day today. I am not leaving my house.

Can anyone remember why?

Falling Slowly.

They won the Oscar! That's great!

For those of you who have seen it, I have included the clip below for you to revisit the feeling you had when you first saw it. For those of you who have NOT seen it, you suck...and don't talk to me until you have. And for those of you who HAVE seen it and do NOT like it, well you have your own category there...



And stop posting anonymously. You wouldn't be on this blog unless you were some sort of friend of mine...so I simply don't get why any of you would do that...what's wrong with yoU?

Sneezes.

I watched a movie last night, which was not bad, but it was also not utterly fantastic: Two Days in Paris. I was struck by the movie though, in many ways...and I do really like Julie Delpy...So I included the closing lines of the movie, which really moved me.

“It always fascinated me how people go from loving you madly to nothing at all, nothing. It hurts so much. When I feel someone is going to leave me, I have a tendency to break up first before I get to hear the whole thing. Here it is. One more, one less. Another wasted love story. I really love this one...we'll slowly think of each other less and less until we forget each other completely. Almost. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drunk up, fool around. Meet one guy, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness start again to look for true love, desperately look everywhere and after two years of loneliness meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well.

There's a moment in life where you can't recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, well you still can’t live without him. And even if he wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, well you love his sneezes more than anyone else's kisses.”

Cigarettes.

I have been cigarette free since 8:00 pm February 10, making this exactly 10 days without smoking. If my math is correct, that is:

• 100 cigarettes unsmoked.
• 40 dollars saved.
• Assuming the rules of thumb are correct, I have regained somewhere between 15 to 18 hours of my life back.
  

On the other hand, quitting smoking has left me:

• Incredibly fatigued everyday...
  
• Entirely unable to concentrate on ANYTHING except distracting myself.
• Eating a lot more.
• Most certainly gaining weight.
• Chewing tons and tons of gum.
• Craving sweets.
  

But then again, I just got my tooth whitening trays today and I am excited about finally having white teeth! And I smell better.

McCain and the Lovely Lobbyist.

Damn. Let's see how the conservatives deal with this one...

Personally, I don't care at all...but it definitely is going to be interesting to watch. And unless I'm entirely tone deaf, this is gonna be quite a slap in the face.

Good Reads: Krugman's Column.

I haven't really posted any columns lately, mostly because I don't find most of them to be particularly noteworthy. Even Paul Krugman's stuff sometimes leans a bit too hysterically left for me to really connect with it in any meaningful way. In any case, nothing Krugman says in this piece is particularly new, but I think it fairly encapsulates a worldview that I share, and I just thought I'd pass it on.

“Poverty in early childhood poisons the brain.” That was the opening of an article in Saturday’s Financial Times, summarizing research presented last week at the American Association for the Advancement of Science.

As the article explained, neuroscientists have found that “many children growing up in very poor families with low social status experience unhealthy levels of stress hormones, which impair their neural development.” The effect is to impair language development and memory — and hence the ability to escape poverty — for the rest of the child’s life.

So now we have another, even more compelling reason to be ashamed about America’s record of failing to fight poverty.

L. B. J. declared his “War on Poverty” 44 years ago. Contrary to cynical legend, there actually was a large reduction in poverty over the next few years, especially among children, who saw their poverty rate fall from 23 percent in 1963 to 14 percent in 1969.

But progress stalled thereafter: American politics shifted to the right, attention shifted from the suffering of the poor to the alleged abuses of welfare queens driving Cadillacs, and the fight against poverty was largely abandoned.

In 2006, 17.4 percent of children in America lived below the poverty line, substantially more than in 1969. And even this measure probably understates the true depth of many children’s misery.

Living in or near poverty has always been a form of exile, of being cut off from the larger society. But the distance between the poor and the rest of us is much greater than it was 40 years ago, because most American incomes have risen in real terms while the official poverty line has not. To be poor in America today, even more than in the past, is to be an outcast in your own country. And that, the neuroscientists tell us, is what poisons a child’s brain.

America’s failure to make progress in reducing poverty, especially among children, should provoke a lot of soul-searching. Unfortunately, what it often seems to provoke instead is great creativity in making excuses.

Some of these excuses take the form of assertions that America’s poor really aren’t all that poor — a claim that always has me wondering whether those making it watched any TV during Hurricane Katrina, or for that matter have ever looked around them while visiting a major American city.

Mainly, however, excuses for poverty involve the assertion that the United States is a land of opportunity, a place where people can start out poor, work hard and become rich.

But the fact of the matter is that Horatio Alger stories are rare, and stories of people trapped by their parents’ poverty are all too common. According to one recent estimate, American children born to parents in the bottom fourth of the income distribution have almost a 50 percent chance of staying there — and almost a two-thirds chance of remaining stuck if they’re black.

That’s not surprising. Growing up in poverty puts you at a disadvantage at every step.

I’d bracket those new studies on brain development in early childhood with a study from the National Center for Education Statistics, which tracked a group of students who were in eighth grade in 1988. The study found, roughly speaking, that in modern America parental status trumps ability: students who did very well on a standardized test but came from low-status families were slightly less likely to get through college than students who tested poorly but had well-off parents.

None of this is inevitable.

Poverty rates are much lower in most European countries than in the United States, mainly because of government programs that help the poor and unlucky.

And governments that set their minds to it can reduce poverty. In Britain, the Labor government that came into office in 1997 made reducing poverty a priority — and despite some setbacks, its program of income subsidies and other aid has achieved a great deal. Child poverty, in particular, has been cut in half by the measure that corresponds most closely to the U.S. definition.

At the moment it’s hard to imagine anything comparable happening in this country. To their credit — and to the credit of John Edwards, who goaded them into it — both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are proposing new initiatives against poverty. But their proposals are modest in scope and far from central to their campaigns.

I’m not blaming them for that; if a progressive wins this election, it will be by promising to ease the anxiety of the middle class rather than aiding the poor. And for a variety of reasons, health care, not poverty, should be the first priority of a Democratic administration.

But ultimately, let’s hope that the nation turns back to the task it abandoned — that of ending the poverty that still poisons so many American lives.

Obamania Spans the Globe.

I thought this was cute. Not in the way that short curly haired girls think pugs are cute, but in a "Enthusiastic Japanese People are cute" sort of way...

The article, in short, is about a little Japanese town named...

....you guessed it...Obama.

And so Obama sprang into action, its desire to escape the countryside’s anonymity interwoven with Senator Barack Obama's run for the White House. A support group was formed. Primary day events were held. And “Go Obama!” posters were put up.

On Monday, as expectations ran high here that Mr. Obama would sweep Tuesday’s primaries in Wisconsin and Hawaii, Obama, population 32,000, was making plans to buttress its support. Businessmen were getting ready with “I love Obama” T-shirts, a theme song called “Obama Is a Wonderful World” and sweet bean cakes with Mr. Obama’s face on them. City Hall was going to send a daruma doll with “victory” written across its chest, a traditional good-luck charm in Japanese elections.

Classy.

IM Conversation for Today with my Friend whose name starts with a B:

B: Hi.
Jay: What's up B's-Nutz?
B: Uh, hey...Monsieur Lee. Lets do Chinatown tonight.
Jay: Well if we're doing that, then I'm definitely only eating a leafy green salad for lunch.
Jay: And, if I am going to make puns about you, you should do better than "Monsieur Lee." Like, get a "Lee-fy "green salad.

B: ha good asian insertion there

Jay: thats what she said

(Jay is subsequently elected King.)

One Simple Call...

And my Omaha Steaks Fantastic Feast will be delivering on Tuesday the 26th.

Say it.

Say it bitch.

Yes. Form those words.

"Your life is better than mine..."

Yes. Those words are almost as delicious as the steaks I will be eating in one week from now.

Does Obama Have an Asian Problem?

...is the headline Time is using for an article suggesting, not very subtly, that Asians hate black people, and thus Barack Obama.

Awesome.

....notably, Hillary Clinton's campaign once refused a Chinese Language newspaper from San Francisco saying that they would not allow foreign press. hehe.

Uno Wins it!

Beagles prevail!

(Long time supporter of beagles here. Just ask AJ.)
I love how intensely this story is covered, both because it's awesome and because it's awesome. (Joey, you really might want to consider posting about this because well...it's awesome.)


Now THAT's a cute picture.

Suhweet!

In addition to the whole smoking thing, I've decided to add some incentive and continue this path of getting better (which includes having not had anything to drink for the longest period in 2 years)...Thus, luckily the Gods smiled upon me and Harvard is offering dental whitening for a very low subsidized rate through Valentines Day...and I happened to snag an appointment tomorrow morning at 11:30 am.

In case you're slow, she's dancing a jig.

P.S. - No judgment when all of these things start to fall apart.

29 hours in...

It has been 29 hours since my last cigarette.

Methinks the Nicotine gum actually works...which is very surprising. I was very very dubious about it. Turns out I WAS addicted to nicotine. Can you believe that?

And ladies....watch out. This Asian is (supposed to be) experiencing better skin, fingers, hair, teeth, smells, sense of smell, and endurance. Though I suppose the accompanying weight gain isn't gonna be all that helpful, considering I just ate homemade tuna melt....

In any case, Nicorette is sorta weird. You can't just sit around and chew the gum. You actually chew the gum until it starts to tingle in your mouth, at which point you are supposed to just park the gum somewhere between your cheek and your gums, where it gets absorbed into your bloodstream. Then, when the gum stops tingling, you chew it some more until it starts to tingle, and repeat. It's mildly heartburny, and it's sorta weird just having nicotine all up in my mouth and my throat. But I am definitely surprised at how I'm sorta ok not smoking a cigarette right now. I also like that I get to chew it while I'm sitting in my law and public health class discussing paternalism and the legitimacy of regulation of second hand smoke.
I also find it helps to puff on an unlit cigarette while I'm just chillin in my apartment. All of this makes me sound sorta pathetic...and I'm sure that updates on my not smoking is not all that interesting to you, but it's not like I have anything else to blog about.

...except my epic awesome weekend, although I'm not all that sure you're interested in hearing about THAT either...except, suffice it to say, at least for now, that
1) I blacked out for the first time ever. And somehow managed to RECORD IT on my computer.
2) I paid 25 bucks cover to get into a club. And danced danced danced.
3) I was piss drunk from Friday 10 pm through Sunday 4 am.
4) I played full court basketball in jeans and a T-shirt, entirely drunk, and scored a quarter of the team's baskets.
5) I somehow paid 150-200 dollars for alcohol in a single night.
6) Over the course of these epic 30 hours before i passed out, I ate one large large bowl of Ramen (10 minutes before the basketball game), 35 pork dumplings (20 minutes after the basketball game), and 6 oranges (only god knows).

Nicorette.

I just dropped 50 bucks for a box of Nicotine gum. I'm not even really sure there was any particular reason I decided to quit smoking today...but here goes nothin! Now is as good a time as any...

My chronology as a smoker....

• My first taste of sweet sweet tobacco was after 7th grade. My neighbor Adam Beger in Detroit Michigan had a Swisher Sweet, and we smoked it in a construction lot together. It was cheap, super sweet, and was almost like candy.

• Soon after, I somehow stumbled upon a Jewel Sweet. And I went back to smoke for a second time. These are slightly classier Swisher Sweets, but they have wooden tips. I smoked it in the garage that summer after 7th grade. It was delicious.
• On the way home from Northwood Middle School when I was 13, my buddy Whitford and I walked home from school on the last day of classes. We were little skater punks. I had a mohawk, an Alien Workshop skateboard, Bullhead jeans, Etnies shoes, and a wallet chain. Near the corner of Enoree and Old Spartanburg road, Whitford and I noticed an almost full pack of Basic cigarettes sitting at the mouth of a sewer. I stashed those babies under my dresser in a Ziploc bag, and we smoked that pack of cigarettes over the course of the entire summer. Every couple of weeks or so one of us would ask the other whether we should start a "Basic Fire"...and then we'd go run off into the woods and smoke. Looking back on those days, neither of us ever inhaled. We simply puffed.
  
• When I was 15 and my brother had just turned 18, I looked in my brother's Ford Probe in the center console and found a pack of Marlboro Lights, which I guess he was experimenting with since he just turned 18. It was with those cigarettes that I inhaled tobacco smoke into my lungs for the first time ever. One by one I would steal them out of his car and smoke them out my bedroom window. It burned something fierce. It was painful, it was horrible, it wreaked havoc on my lungs those first few cigarettes. And I stuck it out. I fought HARD to smoke.
  

• Since we're involving a Ford Probe story, I crashed that awesome little thing into an 82 year old couple. As I slammed into the Buick Park Avenue with the Probe, and bounced violently off the airbag listening to Smashing Pumpkins "Love" on the stereo, I was smoking a Camel Menthol Light. I quickly dropped the cigarette, and also hid the pack of Marlboro Ultra Lights I had hidden in the trunk.
  
• I smoked all the way from the time I was 15 until I got to college. I made myself fake IDs, I used people's sisters and brothers, and just managed to get cigarettes all through high school. I requested a non-smoking roommate. So did my roommate. We both filled the halls with so much tobacco smoke you would not believe it.
• A week after arriving at Duke, a knock came at my door. I, with a cigarette in my mouth, went to the door. With smoke filling the falls and ash dropping onto my shirt, I took a flyer asking people to come out for the Rowing team. I smiled, tapped my ash into my ashtray, and said I'd be there.
• I smoked a lot that year, until October 10, 2000 when I decided to quit smoking for my mother's birthday. I lasted 6 months, when one cigarette became two, and two became ten a day. And I began to train, 25 hours of intense rowing, cardio, 13 mile runs, and sprints....with a cigarette before and after every practice.
  
• I reached my peak sometime over the next 3 years. I smoked about a pack of day. My brands changed from month to month. Winston Select Lights, Camel Lights, Turkish Gold, Camel Red Lights, and finally, the big Kahuna, my lovely Parliament lights. I smoked in my apartment in Central, I smoked in my dorm room, I smoked in the house at Burch, I smoked at band practice (with my band mates), I smoked at concerts...everywhere I went, all my buddies smoked, and it was fantastic. I love smoking. I really really do.
  

But, I think it's time. I was smoking up until Yesterday right before I went to the gym, and maybe......just maybe, this is the beginning of the end. Wish me luck.

By the end of tonight...

....I will have been drunk for 30 hours straight.

Details to come.......urrrrrgh.

Obama and the Law.

I just read this piece on Slate and Obama's view of constitutional law. It's quite short, so those of you with an interest in Constitutional law may just want to glance over it.

Here's one paragraph, which struck me as incredible because Tribe, Minow, Katyal, and Sunstein are friggin' GIANTS of Constitutional law, practice, and the Supreme Court.

As Harvard law professor Martha Minow puts it, "He has at his fingertips the whole historical context of the moments in which our Constitution has been stretched, or has been in jeopardy, and when presidents have tried to bring it back. This isn't an afterthought for him: 'Oh, I'll go consult my lawyers.' "

For Minow, this was driven home by an exercise in speechwriting. She and fellow Harvard law professor Laurence Tribe, Georgetown law professor Neal Katyal, and University of Chicago law professor Cass Sunstein were supposed to work up a draft of a big speech for Obama about law and democracy. The four of them—titans, all—labored over multiple drafts, which they sent back and forth among themselves. Then they and other law professors arrived at Obama's office. After apologizing because he hadn't reviewed their version, he reeled off four points he thought the speech should make. And Minow says they were better than what her quartet had come up with—not just more politically resonant but better conceived.

That's awesome.

Oh, and I got a haircut. (sigh....)

America the Beautiful

I am trying very hard to remember what news story compelled me to suddenly look up a video of Hitler speaking on YouTube....but here I am. Let's not bother reading into this...(wait, just remembered. It was an NYTimes Op-Ed I just read....)

But it IS interesting to have all this distance and just watch Hitler speak. It's surreal. I think by the 15th Sieg Heil, I was almost convinced.





Here's a Disney Classic you should just watch if you've never seen it...Nothing like good ol' propaganda for children by Disney...This is a classic.



That cartoon led me to THESE...which are so startling racist that I'm honestly surprised. Which I shouldn't be. But at every turn......jesus.


This one is called "Bugs bunny nips the nips" (No, RS, Japanese people, not nipples, sorry)

..........

My Omaha Steaks arrived January 24 and were delivered, according to UPS.

That was the Day I left for Paris.

I am PISSED. I WANT AN EXPLANATION NOW.

Awesome. And Cute.

(Hat tip: Andrew Sullivan)

Super Duper Tuesday.

I voted!



Then promptly stopped at the bake sale table and bought a doughnut and cupcake for a dollar to reward my belief in democracy.

Note: I almost wrote in "Fat Alf Kid" instead, but I think his views on the
Alternative Minimum Tax and heavy-handed regulation of
private pools of capital make him a hard sell in the general election.

Among the more pointless posts ever: The NY Times

Note: Having randomly typed this post for the last 15 minutes, I see no reason for you to actually read it. You can read the pointless and stupid query at the very bottom though.

I distinctly remember a time in my life when I read every single NYTimes Op-Ed that came into print. It was during college, I was starting to slowly emerge from my cocoon of being totally insulated by an entirely idyllic suburban adolescence, and I was just eager to start learning more about the world.

(Actually, at several points in my life I made entire lists of things that I swore to myself that I would learn about. At the very top of the list, at the end of high school, one of the big lessons of life that seemed unfathomably complicated, opaque, and entirely foreign....was "find[ing] out the difference between Democrats and Republicans, or figuring out what that means." At that point in my life, I was already a pragmatist and figured most people were pragmatists and just sort've had a smattering of ideas based on particular issues. Later, I recall having an experience in the middle of college when my awareness about politics and policy began to sharpen, I remember sending a flabbergasted email to an old high school mentor of mine with a desperately terrified question about how so many people believed so many things that seemed so inherently wrong, and that they were all allied powerfully and representing half of the country. Of course since then, I have grown considerably more sympathetic to conservatives on many of their principles, though I still quite emphatically think they are wrong on the degree to which they embrace their respective ideologies.)

Anyhow, none of this post was really about that stuff. I really just wanted to comment on the effect of TimesSelect. I used to love and wait for the new columns every single day. At the time I guess it was William Safire (the conservative), Thomas Friedman (the simplifier), Paul Krugman (the economist), Dowd (?), David Brooks (another conservative), Bob Herbert (eh), and Nicholas Kristof (bleeding heart white guy who likes asian women), and I guess there were others. In any case, the columns really had an effect on me because they allowed me to see how other people, presumably smart people, had been synthesizing all of the same information and news that I had been seeing at the same time. So when the US invaded Iraq, it was interesting to see how Friedman, who I consider quite credible on the Middle East after reading From Beirut to Jerusalem, was a hawk in favor of the war. And when the Bush tax cuts increased, it was interesting to see how Krugman's polished economic expertise pointed out the effects of the cuts, and also firmly believed it was part of the right-wing's attempt to "starve the beast" and destroy the post-New Deal government without a single veto or political push.
Almost for that reason alone, the NYTimes was my homepage. Internet browser goes up, the Times pops up as my home. There was the beginning of my news day, each and every day. Even in India, when I plugged my crappy little LG phone into my laptop and drowsily surfed the internet for news, the NYTimes and the Columnists kept me plugged into the US political and social climate.

And suddenly upon returning to the US, the NYTimes instituted TimesSelect. The horrible fuckbeast of an idea so that you had to pay for membership to read the columns online. At first I was pretty upset. I mean, apart from scanning headlines and looking at an article here or there, the columns were definitely major players in helping me form models of thought and helping me find my own opinions. So I considered paying for it.

But that pissed me off. Bullshit.

So then I started getting to the columns through Lexis (this was during 1L)...and that just was so irritating that I stopped after 3 days. And then....

Two years passed. The quick and cheap headlines of MSNBC became my homepage. I read more and more Slate for analysis. I surfed over to CNN to make sure no major cities had been leveled during the day. Andrew Sullivan became an increasing influence over my time. ESPN (recently) found a spot in my toolbar. I began to look at more stupid gossip sites. And for two years, I really didn't have anything to do with the NYTimes. I would glance at the site every week or so, get bored, and move on.

And then, in September of 2007, the NYTimes came to its senses and killed the beast. TimesSelect was over, and now all content was totally free. Free! The Columnists were back! Friedman was still there. Krugman was still here! Dowd, Herbert, Brooks, Kristof, and now even Bill Kristol.

...but I think it was too late. I don't care anymore. Two years of being told that their opinions were too good to be freely available made me seek out bloggers and other editorial opinions. Two years of not caring about their opinions made them irrelevant. Now Krugman seems sorta like a partisan hack who talks too much about things he doesn't really have any business pontificating about, like politics, and ignores the very things he knows better than anyone: economics. Bob Herbert's opinions seem entirely predictable. I'm not sure I give a shit what Friedman thinks anymore...

But really, this entire post was supposed to be one sentence...a very meaningless question, but sort of a curiosity for anyone who reads the Times...so I guess I'll just go ahead and ask it:

Does anyone else think that Maureen Dowd's columns just suck? Is there something deeper than the veneer of cartoonish slurs and stylized worlds she portrays? Or is it as empty and unfulfilling to everyone else too? Is she as smug as I think?

At least Bridget Moynihan had a good night...

...as History was robbed by a douchebag.

As you can probably surmise, I am NOT happy that the Pats lost the Super Bowl. Besides the profound sense of disappointment about the loss of a perfect season for the Pats, I am probably equally upset that of ALL the people who could have caused this outcome, it was fucking ELI MANNING that did it. (There is only one other person in the world I would have wanted to win the Super Bowl less, and that is supremo-Douchebag number 1, Philip Rivers.)

In any case, I dread the onslaught of stupid pointless commercials starring Eli Manning that will certainly fill the year. The constant chatter of analysis of how Eli managed this one. More talk about Eli, Eli, Eli......ugh.

I do not like him. Suck.

..............2...girls....1 cup.

Ok.....so this is one of the more interesting things I've seen on Slate in a long time...

It's a collection and analysis of videos of people who were asked to watch "2 girls 1 cup"...and taping their reactions to the video. The reactions are actually pretty hilarious, and fascinating...but they also make you wonder "what the FUCK is this video? What could it possibly be?" I'm gonna suggest you not try to locate the video.

(Why?...after watching the horror unfold in these people's faces, I decided to watch it myself. My reaction: my face was entirely still, my body completely statuesque, my eyes widening, widening, widening until the damn video ended and I could exhale again. Gross.)

I'm not even gonna post the link to that video, because boy...totally not going to be responsible for you seeing it. I do suggest though, that you do follow the link I put up above, because it's a nice way to pass 10 minutes.

Boston Sucks.

Why did it snow, ice, bluster, and then end in a miserable rainy downpour in the beginning of February? Hate this place.

Incidentally, I saw a lot of small birds flying around today looking for a place to stay dry....wtf?! February?

Sign your name, dadgummit!

I have no real explanation for why I feel this way, but I get irritated when people comment without indicating who they are...it's not like anyone else beyond a very small handful of people see this...So, please just do it.

And if not, suck it long and suck it hard.

[insert offensively pornographic picture of someone sucking it long and sucking it hard]

My Tax Professor is AWESOME.

I believe that he will be the most entertaining, hilarious, and exciting law professor I will have in my entire law school career. He is also not a Harvard Prof, but from UCLA. It's fantastic.

Today we learned that the primary beneficiaries of the payroll tax system are Asian women.

And when he said it, he was being funny. and serious.

Tom Brady.

Seriously, I am never short of amazed of Tom Brady's story. I know, I know, he's the golden boy, pretty boy, supermodel dating, devilishly handsome steve who plays football for one of the most hated teams in professional sports...blah blah...But this guy's story is always so startling...it's so incredible how mediocre he was, or perceived as, for every day of his life until he somehow got to play a few games with the Pats. It's insane.

If you aren't familiar with the story, I suggest you go...

here

or

here

The first article is pretty good, especially the Brady picture at the 2000 Combine.


P.S. Were you aware that there is a book about Belichick written by David Halberstam??? Really!?! Wtf?

Ok class time.

Passing time.

At this very moment, I have wrapped up my tax readings (god I love easy assignments for the first day of class...) and I am awaiting a call from my buddy so that we can head off together to drink some beer, play some poker, and talk some mad shit about each other with a variety of Joos, Wytes, and myself, the only minority.

Thus, as I have basically nothing to do, I thought I'd come on and blog. (This post will be the equivalent of a middle school yearbook signature that says:

This
This is
This is wasting
This is wasting your
This is wasting your space
This is wasting your space!!!!

Stay cool! You're Friend, Jay

(Yes. I was that jackass who did that.)

Anyway, my class schedule is starting to come together and I am totally stressed out about whether I'm going to graduate, and how I am going to find the time to do all of the ridiculously fun, crazy things this semester while still getting enough credits to graduate. For the record, during the course of the semester I plan to do the following things:

1) Go skiing in Vermont and/or New Hampshire (which DA will help me accomplish)
2) Eat Omaha Steaks, Chickens, Burgers, Fishes, and Potatoes (which no one is permitted to help me accomplish.)
3) Increase my general tolerance to alcohol by yet another degree. (All are welcome.)
4) Reduce my Nicotine addiction and Reduce my Fatassery into Awesomery.
5) Continue to grow my hair.
6) Take two supremely awesome trips (lasting 6 days altogether) to DC and LA for some kick ass wedding festivities.
7) Force yet another unwise, yet entirely awesome trip to Europe on student loan money.
8) Go out dancing.
9) Go to more concerts. (Cat Power is playing in Feb...)
10) Go to a Celtics game (DA?)
11) Remember to call your mother.

Anyhow, I made that list because I'm wasting time and I don't know what to do with myself. So, I will post a picture of one of the delicious morsels of meat I ate while I was in Paris. It was an ENORMOUS, Fatty, bloody, delicious Steak-Frites with a glass of red wine, eaten outside with baguettes at the Bastille. Yes. My life IS better than yours.

I can hardly believe it...

I'm not going to comment a lot about it, because there is very little that can be said for it because of how...ridiculous it is...but the poverty in Haiti has become so extreme that people have begun to regularly eat cookies made from dirt...

...that is so fucked up and sad.

The Obviousness...

As you can surmise, I ate meat in France. And...of course, when given the chance to eat meat, on the 4 hour drive home last night from NYC, a McDonald's at a rest stop also provided me with a Big 'n Tasty hamburger. And it was totally worth it.

I lasted a good two and a half weeks without eating any meat (including fish, excluding eggs). I was pretty impressed with myself, and even more impressed with how unpainful, and how perfectly easy it was to not eat meat.

In fact, before I returned my rental car today... (Yes, this was the car we rented...down to the color...)

...I went grocery shopping for the first time in a very very long time (since I no longer have a car), and I didn't buy any meat either...

Anyway, the real point of this is that I lost whatever bet I made because I didn't send out my damned Omaha steaks order form in time...and thus didn't get my steaks before I left for Paris.

And, I've decided to just go ahead and cut back on meat in general.

And I've also decided to quit or at least drastically drastically cut back on smoking.

So J., I owe you a steak. No one else accepted I don't think.

Yes.

I wrote a post 3 days ago that mentioned that I was in Paris and that I wasn't going to be posting. Apparently French Internet sucks. Oh la la.

Anyhow, I have returned from Paris after one of the best weekends of my life. A fine little mini-break, if you will. (I believe that's the term used in Bridget Jones, so I'm using it. Fuckers.)
I feel simultaneously exhausted and I'm probably glowing slightly.

Anyhow. I have tons of shit to do, but I'll be back.

DA: I picked up a New Hampshire ski guide. I oughta mail it to you...let you pick.

The most disgusting thing ever.

I picked up a bottle of beer yesterday and drank down the last drops. But it was bitter.

So I spit it back out.

And then I realized i had picked up the ashtray bottle.

Wtfbbq1!

Ignore the title.

Anyway, i was using the auto input on my cell phone to write the word "pestering."

The auto-word recognition did not recognize the word "pestering." But you know what DID automatically pop up after hitting 7-3-7-8 (P-E-S-T) as the third word option? "Sept11"

WTF?!?

(Just as an extra note, I tried to type a random country in..."Zaire" Not a chance in hell....interestingly, Indian names automatically pop up. "Rajiv" "Sanjay" and "Sandeep" all came p immediately. Wtfbbq. Seriously.)

Ok Jesus Christ.

I got bored and went to Joey's blog instead of returning to the joy of the post-filing waiting period of Section 5(b)(1) of the 1933 Securities Act...and noticed that he had posted something about someone named Paul Potts, and included a link. I decided to click it, and it didn't work. So then I YouTubed it, and this is what I found. And having seen it, I thought I'd share it with you. (I usually don't post totally totally lame crap, now do I?) (And I'm guessing you won't watch this because you're probably reading this in class, and it requires sound. Ass. It's worth it.)



Ignoring the last 15 seconds or so of background music, I must admit that I was totally touched by this whole thing in the most non-masculine way imaginable. I guess this is actually the sort of great, human moment reality TV is capable of...as opposed to well, this...

And to be honest...I really can't complain about the latter clip, since I did end up watching 70% of the series in a single sitting after my Fed Courts exam with my boy Tyler, 30 beers, and a lot of pizza and fried foods.
(We had initially planned to play Metroid Prime, but decided to turn on the TV while we were eating...and...whoosh...a 6 hour "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" marathon.)

(Incidentally, just like in "Average Joe 2" the girl makes the wrong choice. The SUPER wrong choice. I think Tyler and I actually got upset over this one.)

(Oh, and this clip is worth watching for 2 reasons. 1) Watching the total Steve (whose name incidentally is STEVEN, really) get bypassed for an ugly goofy Italian guy, and 2) catfight at 3:15.)

(It's shocking how much more I had to say about Tila Tequila than the Primaries, or about the actual inspirational, warm, and wonderful clip I had initially intended to share.)

(And no, I won't watch A Shot at Love 2 unless a marathon happens to coincide with my Tax exam.)

yeah yeah...

McCain and Clinton won the primaries blah blah blah...

I'm just writing to say that I still can't get the movie "Once", or at least the music, out of my head...and I just want to reiterate that you should go see it.

Snoogins.

(Yes, it's saturday night at 10:40 and I'm at home studying for my SecRegs exam on Tuesday.)

Two Things.

1) It is disconcerting to be drinking deeply from a water fountain, hear the toilet flush, and feel the water pressure drop against your tongue.

2) J.K. Rowling is our commencement speaker for graduation. Hrm.

Haircut.

Somewhat impulsively during a boring lecture about Rule 144, I decided to get a haircut today. With very explicit instructions not to make me look more Chinese.

We can all guess what happened next.

Before (yesterday):
After:

Actually, I just got a trim and a thinning out of the massive mounds of hair. But I do look a little more Asian now.

Fact of the Day.

Here are the Ten Most Common Passwords:

10) (First Name)
9) blink182
8) password1
7) myspace1
6) monkey
5) letmein
4) abc123
3) qwerty
2) 123456
1) password

The appearance of "monkey" as the 6th most common password fills my heart with joy. The appearance of "blink182" as the 9th most common password fills my heart with such confusion that the beams of joy radiating from the "monkey" are all but smothered to death.

Another irresistibly delectable moment of education, as offered by yours truly.

This election...

is kind of exciting!

An Old Debate Revived.

For those of you who have been here since the very beginning, you probably have some vague recollection of my obsession with Matthew McConaughey and his freakishly short stubby arms.

I remember also getting into debates over whether his arms were, in fact, short. And I was forced to search the internet and movie posters for signs of this genetic abnormality.
I pulled out all the stops, going to every movie poster to point out the fact that his arms always seemed to be doing more than simply having loosely at his side with his fingernails aligned with his belly button. AND STILL...some of you fought me. You said "No, Dude, you're fucking crazy. His arms are normal. They are totally normal"

And I said, "FUCK NO! THEY ARE NOT NORMAL! THOSE ARE STUBBY SHORT ASS ARMS!!"

And so I found one website that corroborated my story.

Well...Ladies and Gentleman...it appears that two things have taken place, this fine Monday evening at 1:43 am. First, I have found my soulmate, whoever it is that made this movie. Second, I am forever vindicated.

And now, I present...a piece of work rivaled only by the Bible itself:




(Bow. Kiss hands. Blow kisses. Accepts Nobel Prize.)

Once.

Watch it.Seriously.

It's less than an hour and a half. It will hit you like a ton of feathers. In a good way. Because of its stark (blissful) simplicity...saying anything else would just be unhelpful.

Edit: For those of you who actually take my (and my brother's) advice and watch this movie, I have also included the mass released DVD cover for this movie below. Again, above is the original poster, and below is the mass released DVD cover. There is one crucial difference which my brother (and now I) find hideously irritating, given the true soul of the film. (And no it's not the changed color of his scarf and her jacket...which now that I notice it...is very bizarre. What's wrong with these people? What marketing major in college suggested THAT one? Probably the same person who suggested the groan-inducing lameness.)

Meat Detox.

I've decided to take some time away from eating meat. Mainly because I'm a fatass who needs to drop some weight, but also because I think I tend to eat too much meat in general, and would like to generally learn to cut back in the long term. Now it's only lasted 3 days so far, and I don't have any idea how long I plan to do this (4 days? 1 week? 1 week and 1 day?), but interestingly, it's not totally horrible. I actually ate at a restaurant called "Veggie Planet" yesterday, and left feeling full and satisfied. Bizarre.

Now, more importantly, I received in the mail today an offer from Omaha Steaks. They have my mailing address, because at one point, I received the best friggin' gift EVER, which was a shipment of 6 Omaha Sirloins, and special potato balls. Delish. (yes. That was a Rachael Ray reference.) Those steaks were FANTASTIC. But they're also very expensive. (Thanks, by the way.)

In any case, here is the offer for 50 bucks:
--4 Top Sirloins
--4 Pork Chops
--4 Chicken Breasts
--10 Omaha Steak Burgers
--2 Stuffed Sole with Scallops and Crabmeat
--4 Stuffed Baked Potatoes
--6 Piece knife set and cutting board + A Deluxe Blade Sharpener.

Normally, the appearance of the free knife set would make me very suspicious, and I would toss it. But DUDE!!!!! (Just for reference, the website currently is offering 6 top sirloins for 40 bucks.)

(Note: This stack of bills, mail, letters, offers, checks, utilities, campaign material, and all that other stuff we get in the mail has been building up and accumulating on my desk since December. Unopened.
On the other hand, the Omaha Steaks envelope arrived and was opened immediately.)

Also, I am aware that the title "Meat Detox" is a little contradictory, considering the bounty that awaits...but maybe that makes it just that much better.

That makes me wonder: Would anyone be willing to dare/bet me that I not eat ANY meat until I receive the shipment of Omaha Steaks? It will take 7-10 business days after they receive this order from me...so, that means if I mail it out tomorrow, it takes 2-3 days to arrive in Omaha (worst city on earth, except for the steaks), then it would be, what, 2 weeks?

Winner gets a steak dinner. Somehow.

If not, we should at least gamble on the playoffs.

(Final note: Looking at pictures of steaks on the internet for the purpose of posting it on your blog while you're not eating meat is not cool.)

Poll.

Do you think it's ok if I totally bitch out my last semester of law school and only take 1 real class?

I think I've just worked out a much dreamier schedule than I ever hoped for which will be:

1) Tax
2) Law and Public Health (actually interesting)
3) Global Financial Regulation (that shit I was bitching about last semester)
4) Independent Writing of that Chapter on China (that other shit I was bitching about last semester)
5) Journal Stuff, which at least isn't time in the library.
6) Some other class TBD.**
7) Your mother.

I guess it still seems sorta heavy, but in all of that, the only real class is Tax. So the Poll is about #6. Should I cross-register into like "Intro to Hindi" or "Self, Serenity, and the Search for Meaning" type of crap? Or should I actually sign up for a real class?

(If this seems like the same thing I bitched about before, the previous set up before somehow God smiled on me...is that on TOP of all this, I would have to create, write, and finish a student note AND take an additional four credit course. Thanks Big Guy. (kisses hand and flashes a peace sign to the heavens)).

Hm. I totally forgot.

Of the places Obama has been, he actually taught law at the University of Chicago.

The friggin University of Chicago. The heart and soul of Fischel, Easterbrook, Becker, Posner, Milton Friedman, Law and Economics, free-market economics...the belly of the beast for thinking legal conservatives, economic conservatives, and all that comes with it.

That's actually pretty fascinating.

Anyway, this was sparked by a letter from one of Andrew Sullivan's readers I saw today:

The Law School is a notoriously conservative place, famous as the home of Chicago School of legal analysis (i.e., law and economics). While there are certainly progressive students and professors there, anyone at the law school would have to confront conservatism on a daily basis. As such, Obama had to hone his arguments to the conservative environment in which he taught. That is not to say that his time there turned him conservative - rather, it helped him to articulate his progressive arguments in such a way that he could convince conservatives.

Dumprings are Derircious.

As a quick introductory note, Boston...From the barren wastelands of the Arctic Tundra to 66 degrees in January, ahhh...so much better. I hate you just a little bit less.

This certainly does make up for the utter misery that was last week. And in celebration, I am off to Chinatown for a dumpling feast! (Say it aloud: Dump-rings are Dee-rear-shuss. And yes I am aware that the transposition of the R and the L is a Japanese thing, but it's not like more than one of you knows that.)

(I would post more, but I am in a pensive mood and would prefer not to do so just yet. I shall let the picture of me below speak for me instead. (notice the similarity of the hair))

You know how I know you're gay?

Because you check my blog before you go to bed.

(btw, that also doubles for "do you know how I know you're awesome?")

Andrew Olmsted.

I came across this blogpost today written by an American soldier in Iraq. He was a blogger and he asked that this be posted in the event that he died. As you can probably surmise, Andrew Olmsted was killed by small arms fire in an ambush earlier this week, and his friends honored his wishes and posted his last blogpost. I don't know if anyone has the interest to read through it, but I thought it was powerful and humbling and thought I would share it.

"I am leaving this message for you because it appears I must leave sooner than I intended. I would have preferred to say this in person, but since I cannot, let me say it here."

G'Kar, Babylon 5

"Only the dead have seen the end of war."
Plato*

This is an entry I would have preferred not to have published, but there are limits to what we can control in life, and apparently I have passed one of those limits. And so, like G'Kar, I must say here what I would much prefer to say in person. I want to thank hilzoy for putting it up for me. It's not easy asking anyone to do something for you in the event of your death, and it is a testament to her quality that she didn't hesitate to accept the charge. As with many bloggers, I have a disgustingly large ego, and so I just couldn't bear the thought of not being able to have the last word if the need arose. Perhaps I take that further than most, I don't know. I hope so. It's frightening to think there are many people as neurotic as I am in the world. In any case, since I won't get another chance to say what I think, I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity. Such as it is.

"When some people die, it's time to be sad. But when other people die, like really evil people, or the Irish, it's time to celebrate."
Jimmy Bender, "Greg the Bunny"

"And maybe now it's your turn
To die kicking some ass."
Freedom Isn't Free, Team America

What I don't want this to be is a chance for me, or anyone else, to be maudlin. I'm dead. That sucks, at least for me and my family and friends. But all the tears in the world aren't going to bring me back, so I would prefer that people remember the good things about me rather than mourning my loss. (If it turns out a specific number of tears will, in fact, bring me back to life, then by all means, break out the onions.) I had a pretty good life, as I noted above. Sure, all things being equal I would have preferred to have more time, but I have no business complaining with all the good fortune I've enjoyed in my life. So if you're up for that, put on a little 80s music (preferably vintage 1980-1984), grab a Coke and have a drink with me. If you have it, throw 'Freedom Isn't Free' from the Team America soundtrack in; if you can't laugh at that song, I think you need to lighten up a little. I'm dead, but if you're reading this, you're not, so take a moment to enjoy that happy fact.

"Our thoughts form the universe. They always matter."
Citizen G'Kar, Babylon 5

Believe it or not, one of the things I will miss most is not being able to blog any longer. The ability to put my thoughts on (virtual) paper and put them where people can read and respond to them has been marvelous, even if most people who have read my writings haven't agreed with them. If there is any hope for the long term success of democracy, it will be if people agree to listen to and try to understand their political opponents rather than simply seeking to crush them. While the blogosphere has its share of partisans, there are some awfully smart people making excellent arguments out there as well, and I know I have learned quite a bit since I began blogging. I flatter myself I may have made a good argument or two as well; if I didn't, please don't tell me. It has been a great five-plus years. I got to meet a lot of people who are way smarter than me, including such luminaries as Virginia Postrel and her husband Stephen (speaking strictly from a 'improving the species' perspective, it's tragic those two don't have kids, because they're both scary smart.), the estimable hilzoy and Sebastian of Obsidian Wings, Jeff Goldstein and Stephen Green, the men who consistently frustrated me with their mix of wit and wisdom I could never match, and I've no doubt left out a number of people to whom I apologize. Bottom line: if I got the chance to meet you through blogging, I enjoyed it. I'm only sorry I couldn't meet more of you. In particular I'd like to thank Jim Henley, who while we've never met has been a true comrade, whose words have taught me and whose support has been of great personal value to me. I would very much have enjoyed meeting Jim.

Blogging put me in touch with an inordinate number of smart people, an exhilarating if humbling experience. When I was young, I was smart, but the older I got, the more I realized just how dumb I was in comparison to truly smart people. But, to my credit, I think, I was at least smart enough to pay attention to the people with real brains and even occasionally learn something from them. It has been joy and a pleasure having the opportunity to do this.

"It's not fair."
"No. It's not. Death never is."
Captain John Sheridan and Dr. Stephen Franklin, Babylon 5

"They didn't even dig him a decent grave."
"Well, it's not how you're buried. It's how you're remembered."
Cimarron and Wil Andersen, The Cowboys

I suppose I should speak to the circumstances of my death. It would be nice to believe that I died leading men in battle, preferably saving their lives at the cost of my own. More likely I was caught by a marksman or an IED. But if there is an afterlife, I'm telling anyone who asks that I went down surrounded by hundreds of insurgents defending a village composed solely of innocent women and children. It'll be our little secret, ok?

I do ask (not that I'm in a position to enforce this) that no one try to use my death to further their political purposes. I went to Iraq and did what I did for my reasons, not yours. My life isn't a chit to be used to bludgeon people to silence on either side. If you think the U.S. should stay in Iraq, don't drag me into it by claiming that somehow my death demands us staying in Iraq. If you think the U.S. ought to get out tomorrow, don't cite my name as an example of someone's life who was wasted by our mission in Iraq. I have my own opinions about what we should do about Iraq, but since I'm not around to expound on them I'd prefer others not try and use me as some kind of moral capital to support a position I probably didn't support. Further, this is tough enough on my family without their having to see my picture being used in some rally or my name being cited for some political purpose. You can fight political battles without hurting my family, and I'd prefer that you did so.

On a similar note, while you're free to think whatever you like about my life and death, if you think I wasted my life, I'll tell you you're wrong. We're all going to die of something. I died doing a job I loved. When your time comes, I hope you are as fortunate as I was.

"What an idiot! What a loser!"
Chaz Reingold, Wedding Crashers

"Oh and I don't want to die for you, but if dying's asked of me;
I'll bear that cross with honor, 'cause freedom don't come free."
American Soldier, Toby Keith

Those who know me through my writings on the Internet over the past five-plus years probably have wondered at times about my chosen profession. While I am not a Libertarian, I certainly hold strongly individualistic beliefs. Yet I have spent my life in a profession that is not generally known for rugged individualism. Worse, I volunteered to return to active duty knowing that the choice would almost certainly lead me to Iraq. The simple explanation might be that I was simply stupid, and certainly I make no bones about having done some dumb things in my life, but I don't think this can be chalked up to stupidity. Maybe I was inconsistent in my beliefs; there are few people who adhere religiously to the doctrines of their chosen philosophy, whatever that may be. But I don't think that was the case in this instance either.

As passionate as I am about personal freedom, I don't buy the claims of anarchists that humanity would be just fine without any government at all. There are too many people in the world who believe that they know best how people should live their lives, and many of them are more than willing to use force to impose those beliefs on others. A world without government simply wouldn't last very long; as soon as it was established, strongmen would immediately spring up to establish their fiefdoms. So there is a need for government to protect the people's rights. And one of the fundamental tools to do that is an army that can prevent outside agencies from imposing their rules on a society. A lot of people will protest that argument by noting that the people we are fighting in Iraq are unlikely to threaten the rights of the average American. That's certainly true; while our enemies would certainly like to wreak great levels of havoc on our society, the fact is they're not likely to succeed. But that doesn't mean there isn't still a need for an army (setting aside debates regarding whether ours is the right size at the moment). Americans are fortunate that we don't have to worry too much about people coming to try and overthrow us, but part of the reason we don't have to worry about that is because we have an army that is stopping anyone who would try.

Soldiers cannot have the option of opting out of missions because they don't agree with them: that violates the social contract. The duly-elected American government decided to go to war in Iraq. (Even if you maintain President Bush was not properly elected, Congress voted for war as well.) As a soldier, I have a duty to obey the orders of the President of the United States as long as they are Constitutional. I can no more opt out of missions I disagree with than I can ignore laws I think are improper. I do not consider it a violation of my individual rights to have gone to Iraq on orders because I raised my right hand and volunteered to join the army. Whether or not this mission was a good one, my participation in it was an affirmation of something I consider quite necessary to society. So if nothing else, I gave my life for a pretty important principle; I can (if you'll pardon the pun) live with that.

"It's all so brief, isn't it? A typical human lifespan is almost a hundred years. But it's barely a second compared to what's out there. It wouldn't be so bad if life didn't take so long to figure out. Seems you just start to get it right, and then...it's over."
Dr. Stephen Franklin, Babylon 5

I wish I could say I'd at least started to get it right. Although, in my defense, I think I batted a solid .250 or so. Not a superstar, but at least able to play in the big leagues. I'm afraid I can't really offer any deep secrets or wisdom. I lived my life better than some, worse than others, and I like to think that the world was a little better off for my having been here. Not very much, but then, few of us are destined to make more than a tiny dent in history's Green Monster. I would be lying if I didn't admit I would have liked to have done more, but it's a bit too late for that now, eh? The bottom line, for me, is that I think I can look back at my life and at least see a few areas where I may have made a tiny difference, and massive ego aside, that's probably not too bad.

"The flame also reminds us that life is precious. As each flame is unique; when it goes out, it's gone forever. There will never be another quite like it."
Ambassador Delenn, Babylon 5

I write this in part, admittedly, because I would like to think that there's at least a little something out there to remember me by. Granted, this site will eventually vanish, being ephemeral in a very real sense of the word, but at least for a time it can serve as a tiny record of my contributions to the world. But on a larger scale, for those who knew me well enough to be saddened by my death, especially for those who haven't known anyone else lost to this war, perhaps my death can serve as a small reminder of the costs of war. Regardless of the merits of this war, or of any war, I think that many of us in America have forgotten that war means death and suffering in wholesale lots. A decision that for most of us in America was academic, whether or not to go to war in Iraq, had very real consequences for hundreds of thousands of people. Yet I was as guilty as anyone of minimizing those very real consequences in lieu of a cold discussion of theoretical merits of war and peace. Now I'm facing some very real consequences of that decision; who says life doesn't have a sense of humor?

But for those who knew me and feel this pain, I think it's a good thing to realize that this pain has been felt by thousands and thousands (probably millions, actually) of other people all over the world. That is part of the cost of war, any war, no matter how justified. If everyone who feels this pain keeps that in mind the next time we have to decide whether or not war is a good idea, perhaps it will help us to make a more informed decision. Because it is pretty clear that the average American would not have supported the Iraq War had they known the costs going in. I am far too cynical to believe that any future debate over war will be any less vitriolic or emotional, but perhaps a few more people will realize just what those costs can be the next time.

This may be a contradiction of my above call to keep politics out of my death, but I hope not. Sometimes going to war is the right idea. I think we've drawn that line too far in the direction of war rather than peace, but I'm a soldier and I know that sometimes you have to fight if you're to hold onto what you hold dear. But in making that decision, I believe we understate the costs of war; when we make the decision to fight, we make the decision to kill, and that means lives and families destroyed. Mine now falls into that category; the next time the question of war or peace comes up, if you knew me at least you can understand a bit more just what it is you're deciding to do, and whether or not those costs are worth it.

"This is true love. You think this happens every day?"
Westley, The Princess Bride

"Good night, my love, the brightest star in my sky."
John Sheridan, Babylon 5

This is the hardest part. While I certainly have no desire to die, at this point I no longer have any worries. That is not true of the woman who made my life something to enjoy rather than something merely to survive. She put up with all of my faults, and they are myriad, she endured separations again and again...I cannot imagine being more fortunate in love than I have been with Amanda. Now she has to go on without me, and while a cynic might observe she's better off, I know that this is a terrible burden I have placed on her, and I would give almost anything if she would not have to bear it. It seems that is not an option. I cannot imagine anything more painful than that, and if there is an afterlife, this is a pain I'll bear forever.

I wasn't the greatest husband. I could have done so much more, a realization that, as it so often does, comes too late to matter. But I cherished every day I was married to Amanda. When everything else in my life seemed dark, she was always there to light the darkness. It is difficult to imagine my life being worth living without her having been in it. I hope and pray that she goes on without me and enjoys her life as much as she deserves. I can think of no one more deserving of happiness than her.

"I will see you again, in the place where no shadows fall."
Ambassador Delenn, Babylon 5

I don't know if there is an afterlife; I tend to doubt it, to be perfectly honest. But if there is any way possible, Amanda, then I will live up to Delenn's words, somehow, some way. I love you.

Winter Break Photographs.

I pulled these photos off of people's facebook profiles because they sum up pretty well what a lot of my winter break was like. That's all.

Where we have rocked out every Christmas since 2000: Before
After. Sound proof. Two Drum sets. Full PA. Bass. Guitar. Mics. Empty Beer Bottles. Rock and Roll.
What Older Asians do when they gather. (My dad, my aunt, and her sister).
What Younger Asians Do when they gather. (my cousins)

Hey-O!

Obama!!!!!

Even if you aren't liberal, and you don't entirely agree with Obama's policy platform, there must be some part of you that is excited...what the world might look like if we truly make a change for the better. To feel credible in the world again as an American. Maybe you don't approve...but it's just the feeling that things might actually change. (Hm. maybe this is what he means by the word "hope" all the time.)

And if not, then you should sit there and ponder how you're probably liking the same candidate as this woman at the Republican caucus in Iowa yesterday.

Yes. American Flag Contacts.
The real purpose of this post.

Negative 12.

Wind chill of NEGATIVE FUCKING TWELVE. (for the Indian readership, that's a temperature of Negative 23 degrees centigrade). That's 44 degrees below freezing!!!!!!!

Boston is the only city where the wind blows right in your face no matter which direction your facing. God.