i don't want to grow up

title says it all.

-andy

the american economy

it has been too long since i have graced the blogosphere with my presence. but it was tonight, after a conversation with my roommate mark over a stuffed bowl about the current direction of the american economy, that prompted me to write here.

to better frame this, keep in mind the nature of united states capitalism: the rich get richer (by exploiting their riches to control market movements) and the poor get poorer. also remember that the us federal reserve is a private corporation and that when the fed turned private in 1913, the united states signed its proverbial soul to the devil: wealthy international bankers who, like any banker, always has his best interests in mind (mortgages, for instance: banks will loan you money but ask for collateral--if you default on your payments, the bank gets your house). so the united states became a corporation, built on top of conglomerates, congress, and lobbyists. eventually, the government is working for lobbyists/corporations and not for the everyman, the american.

the infamous 'american dream' as middle school teachers preached to our young minds about their hopes and aspirations always included upward social mobility. for example, any dumbass sitting next to you can strike it rich in america (keep in mind that this mindset was held before the 9-11 attacks--i'll mention why further on). america to everyone, to our parents who immigrated here from china or india or wherever, was a beacon of opportunity. so our parents, being asian, studied hard and were awarded with the chance to live a new life in america, where their first generation asian babies can move up the social ladder (because they don't bear the burden of thick asian accents that have prevented our parents from moving up) and won't have to suffer a life of hardship they endured as children (thank you mom).

so now, thousands of americans are working for their american dreams, wishing that some day their dumbass minds can somehow produce a 'hot' beat or that their dumbass looks can land them a role in a movie. but everyone knows that a standard measurement for social class is the amount of money chilling in the bank account.

so sure, only .0001% strike it rich in the hollywood industry, record industry, professional sports, the lottery, etc. what is a pretty sure fire way of getting money? well, what is the study of money in society? the economy.

one way that people raised money for building infrastructure or buildings were through finding investors and paying dividends. this is the early and basic idea behind companies and shareholders (for short history of stock market, see here). eventually, by the 1980s when trading equities and bonds became really hot (the movie 'wall street' also added to the hype), everybody started getting into it.

around 1980s, investors assessed companies based on their market cap and rate/amount of dividends paid towards shareholders (this was called fundamental analysis, analysis based on the general workings of the company). only a handful at the time were using technical analysis, which was based on huge amounts of data. soon, everybody started seeing the yields of the stock market and wanted to get a piece of that 'get rich quick american dream'. but when people enter the stock market, the general yield goes down. think about it this way--the market is always trying to reach efficiency and when more people are chasing after the same amount of return, each individual will receive a smaller portion of the proverbial market pie.

have you ever heard people say that putting money on the stock market is like gambling? by the 1990s, when the advent of the internet brought about online brokerage systems and any dumbass sitting next to you can put money into an account to start trading stocks, everybody was throwing money at everybody else that the movement of the stock market became essentially random. so random in fact that the second school of thought behind trading equities is that 'everything is random'. bizarre, huh?

so taking that principle and applying that to the finance industry, we notice that this first generation born into immigrant families are all going to graduate with some sort of business degree (of course there are exceptions, you engineering masturbators, but i generalize for the sake of this entry) and enter the finance industry with the american dream deeply embedded into their minds. but with so many people who want to make quick money off any sort of market (equities, bonds, etc) the yield is getting lower and lower. now, by 2000s, most traders use technical analysis over fundamental analysis because we now have the computer power to run simulations. soon, mark speculates that trading will all be done with algorithms (maybe within 10 years) and there will be no need for an actual trader to sit at a computer, looking for a sign to enter the market and then, subsequently, looking for a sign to exit. and of course, paying that trader a lot of money and giving him amenities like a comfortable chair with lumbar support, free snacks, a black car that will take you to as far as northern new jersey, etc. market efficiency and the constant improvement of technology will eventually get rid of human traders.

as if that isn't one factor that i am concerned about (i want to be a trader, that is the whole purpose of my undergraduate degree in finance), the united states economy is tanking. it all began with the subprime mortgage meltdown. before any word got out about people unable to pay their mortgage loans, the dow jones industrial average (the standard used to measure the american economy) kept hitting record highs. is that a sign that america is artificially inflating its own economy, or that american people are just plain retarded? the federal reserve cut interest rates to 4.75% on september 18th and may cut it again tomorrow (today, october 31) to help out the market. but if the feds continue to help out the market, then the dollar will continue to depreciate.

when my parents moved here, they were able to find a nice home and live decently with $70,000. but now, people who graduate and earn the same amount of money can't even find a townhouse to live in (apparently houses in detroit are cheap, if you are interested). the turning point of the united states economy is the 9/11 attacks. it was then when things began turning sour. the federal reserve putting more and more money into the market; corrupt politicians working in their own best interests; enron, world com, and other corporations cooking books and practicing corporate scandals; and everything, especially gas prices, are getting more and more expensive. the quality of life in united states isn't as it once was, the land of opportunity, the land of greatness, where everyone can exercise the freedom of speech. after 9/11 and the patriot act established by george w. bush, the first amendment went out the window. america is becoming shittier by the second. i want to raise my kids elsewhere.

so how can i get the money that i so hunger and thirst for? i can't make much in the united states finance industry (unless i suck mad balls, aka investment banking). its in china's market. china, a young united states, if you will, will soon rise as an economic power. we should catch the wave and make our big bucks before its too late.

so all of you chinese money chasers out there, take advantage of being chinese--the reign of america as the super power will soon be over.

-andy

god's divine game

so this past weekend, i chilled a bit, lived a bit, hallucinated a bit, you know the drill. and naturally, i would wonder the purpose of our lives.

god created a setting: earth. he created the players: men. he created an entity that every player is fighting for: the middle east. and with the middle east, there is conflict, and with conflict, there is his entertainment.

who will end up on top?

-andy

the zen of kirby's air ride

if you haven't played kirby's air ride for gamecube, then don't bother unless you have nothing else to do or you are on acid/any sort of drug.

air ride is not a conventional racing game with cars; rather, players race with 'air ride machines'. for instance, there is no accelerate button and there are boundaries on each track (unlike mariokart, where you race on precariously small tracks with risk of falling off and finishing in the bottom four). there are different vehicles, as in any other racing game, that players can choose from. since mark and i were new to the game, we chose the 'wagon star': a large box that kirby sits on that requires no skill due to its easy handling (compared to the other vehicles, which have poor acceleration, poor handling, and requires competent control of drifting and boosting). to put it simply, using the wagon (or as we affectionately called 'the haier' because of its resemblance to a stolen--no, hijacked--chinese refrigerator) requires the least amount of player input. since the tracks have boundaries, you can leave your controller on the couch and your place in the race would not change drastically.

when the race was between two haiers (which was usually the case), both haiers always finished within two seconds of each other. regardless of what happened during the race, the power ups gotten and weapons used, the different paths taken, the race would always finish the same--one haier winning by a close margin, flying from out of the screen, taking the loser by surprise.

we played air ride for five or six hours. i can't tell you for certain what held our interest in the game; maybe the flashing lights, aesthetically pleasing back drop, mindless simple game play, the instant gratification of pressing the 'a' button and attacking random objects that cross your path, or the acid we dropped earlier (yeah, probably the acid). and it was probably the acid that instigated these thoughts on the air ride that emerged in my mind while playing.

video games, like religion, is the opiate of the masses. today, video games sedate the minds of millions of today's youth. the japanese have understood this and are one of the biggest think tanks for creating the most popular games. and it is all part of japan's plan to become the future world power. by making games that do not actively improve any aspect of the player (besides to get better at pressing certain button combinations), solely to entertain and kill time, and directed towards america's youth, japan is diluting the potency and culture of next generation america. how can video games, a seemingly innocuous form of entertainment, be used to control an entire generation?

consider arcade tekken, for instance. i have played a couple of times against my japanese friend, yousuke. me, backed with my knowledge of several combos and KO moves, against yousuke, smart enough to understand the capabilities of button mashing. our games were always close, but the credit goes to him for his passive playing style. i would be bent over the little red plastic joy stick and the four buttons, fingers clumsily deciding which button is the punch and which is the kick, eyes glued to the screen looking for an opening in yousuke's game. yousuke would be leaning back, smoking a cigarette, visibly not engaged in the fight. and yet sometimes, to my bewilderment, he would win.

mashing buttons, huh. so that is the secret to games. many people posting on online forums frown upon button mashing, as it 'takes away from the skill required to play the game'. but isn't playing smart also a skill? or recognizing the ease and efficiency of button mashing? the tekken arcade players, like me, who went through the trouble to learn difficult combos have all done so in vain against players who button mash and win. in fact, if two players button mash, the outcome is random like a sporting event. like air ride, if two haiers are racing, the outcome is generally random. who decides who gets to fly out of the corner of the screen, surpassing the other player a few feet before the finish line? especially considering the fact that that outcome occurs regardless of the race itself and that the players need not be actively engaged with the controls to race competitively (given, of course, that the players are racing with the haiers). is air ride just one giant, intricately created game that deceives us with all of its flashing colors and power up capabilities into pushing the joystick and pressing 'a', only for all control inputs to have negligible contribution towards the outcome of the race?

but it is all in the genius of air ride. there is a relentless pursuit to unlock all the vehicles and all the tracks. and for those with competitive spirits, the pursuit to master a more difficult vehicle than the haier. and for the simple minded, the flashing colors and instant gratification that comes with hitting someone or something with your power ups. air ride encompasses all and on all levels. from a grander perspective, air ride is a video game, like any other video game, that gives an objective to challenge the player, the give the player something to do, some goal to achieve, but does nothing to better the player as a human being (improve a skill that can better life, not just to excel in a specific area like 'being able to master king dedede's bicycle on the last track') and only serves as entertainment.

so the time and money spent to enjoy a few hours of insignificant fun is time and money not spent exercising the mind, exercising the body, pursuing a hobby, or anything else that betters somebody as a human being. but there are exceptions. if everybody is playing a particular video game, then not playing it may limit your social standing as an 'outsider'. but that is the case with any activity, television program, or movie. although everything is good in moderation, excessive video game playing, which i believe is the result of poor parenting, is one of the reasons video games is slowly rotting the minds of today's youth.

and yet we keep playing because the instant gratification mixed with the pretty colors just simply makes the players feel good. i feel good when i see kirby riding on a stolen laundry machine with a chinese character on its side. i love flying around, the frictionless surface, the responsiveness of the haier, and the colorful shapes on the screen give the game a warm, soft feel. soon, i am immersed in the game completely, gliding aimlessly on a fantastical track floating among the wispy clouds.

and the entire time, it is air ride that is playing us. it is the video game industry preying on our need for stimuli, our need for gratification. it is the video game industry, always one step ahead, teasing us with colors and predetermined goals, slowly trapping us in a world where human interaction is replaced with pre-scripted, fictional dialogue. it is the video game industry, secretly conniving behind our backs, giving us a false sense of empowerment whenever we win or score, deceiving us into buying more games and playing until our fingers are seized with carpal tunnel and our brains fried.

and yet everyone is connected to video games. not to say that video games are bad, but they should be treated as such: just video games. there exists people who live for video games, where video games become their lives (they should drop acid and come to these realizations themselves). i feel that to be a bit excessive. but there are times when i crave the security of being in command of a few hundred pixels on the television screen.

while playing air ride, nothing can budge me from my seat, my hands from my controller, my eyes from the screen. if it isn't boredom or the need to be 'doing things' that continuously brings me back to video games, what can it be?

don't leave me high, don't leave me dry...

-andy

life without my laptop (i am so lame)

i apologize for my absence in the blogosphere. the reason is that my laptop conveniently decided to break right when i moved into my apartment at union square. my new one is coming in the mail soon, but until then i won't be 'connected' so much to the 'rest of the world'.

living a few days without a laptop made me realize how 'alone' and 'isolated' i am from the 'world'. access to the internet is the ability to maintain contact with 'friends' via facebook or aim or e-mail. but to stay connected is to isolate yourself in front of a computer. when did 'socializing' lose the actual human aspect of socializing? who am i talking to when i type in my blag, who do i intend to read these words?

studies have shown that the majority of a message is conveyed not by its content but by tone and body language. but 'talking' over the internet is just text, pure content. we have replaced the ability to inject personality and character with an array of emoticons and abbreviations, lol. adding a :) or a jk in a line will lighten the tone or suggest sarcasm, for instance. but then again, thats just the purpose of the internet: to transfer information, to foster communication, to stay connected. and we can all stay connected if we can compromise our desire for human contact. though the internet is useful for these purposes, days and nights and days and nights of aim use will degenerate common traits necessary for good social situations, such as hygiene and looking pretty in general.

but i must stay connected, a slave to my laptop. some of those 'friends' you can only stay in touch with facebook. sometimes there may not be enough time to set aside for a conversation over the phone or on aim. sometimes there is nothing as simple and casual as a message on the wall. sometimes only a short, concise facebook message will suffice--no need to go through the greetings commonly found in phone or aim conversations. facebook has really revolutionized networking and the idea of 'being connected'. some people can't go a day without checking the newsfeed or looking through a friend's recently posted pictures.

for the first few days, i experienced facebook (or maybe just laptop/internet/talking to friends) withdrawal. i was getting used to talking in person, getting used to taking showers and maintaining good hygiene, getting used to changing clothes daily. or maybe i was just adjusting to life sans the internet.

work awaits me.

-andy

i love new york

it was around 9pm, long after the life of day has retreated beyond the hudson river. i was on the brooklyn bound A train. the car was filled with blacks of all ages--bachelors, parents, babies, children, elders--all looking weary from a long day, longing to return to their homes. some bobbed their heads rhythmically to the beats emanating from their headphones, some nodded off with their heads rested against the walls, some made idle chit chat with others, talking about the unuually cool weather or the new mall being constructed in canarsie. everyone wore the same facial expression: the epitome of a poker face, blank and showing no emotion, as if each had a secret or weakness to hide.

the car stopped at jay st. in walked an old black man. his face wrinkled and coarse from surviving fifty or so long years in the city, his eyes lacked focus and alacrity, his hair gray and lifeless. he wore a faded blue t-shirt and paint stained blue jeans, both one size too large, so that they loosely followed the movements of his jerky gait. his once white sneakers were now beat up beyond recognition and he had one strap of his tattered brown bag slung across his crooked back.

immediately, the passengers in the car sensed his presence without visual confirmation, as if this man harbored dark spirits that penetrated everyone's blank stares and threatened everyone's soul. i could see passengers brace themselves when they unintentionally tightened their clutches on their belongings--wallets, purses, bags, children. at the same time, they pretended not to acknowledge the man, as if doing so would release demons into their hearts.

like every homeless begger i have encountered during my stay in new york, he began his plea with 'i am sorry for interrupting everybody's night as i am very ashamed to be here asking you for your help...' as if those words, repeated over and over again to the point when it loses all meaning, can mask the ugliness of life, the dirty and imperfect anomalies, the shame associated with groveling and begging. to him, it is of no matter. he needs food. he needs shelter. he needs to survive.

but tonight, for me, it was no ordinary encounter with a homeless man. he lifted up his blue t-shirt and on the left side of his abdomen where flesh and skin once existed, there was now a deep cavity and a few sloppy stitches to keep the horror from spilling out. my morbid fascination and curiosity kept my eyes fixed on his scar and my ears hanging on every lingering word he spoke: 'i just had my kidney removed and i am very hungry. any amount of money is greatly appreciated.'

what a horror. i have never met anyone who had his kidney removed without professional medical supervision. my only conclusion was that he had it removed on the streets, traded for money or services to help him get by. but why did he need this money? was he in debt? was it to finance his crack habit? my sheltered suburbian mind could not begin to grasp his plight, his situation.

i will have lived in new york city, commonly regarded as the center of the universe, for a full year by the end of this week. of course, when i first moved here i found new york city to be dirty, grimy, and full of short-fused assholes. but after a few months, it definitely grew on me: the 24/7 convenience stores, delivery services for everything (yes, everything), the wide variety of eating establishments, the everlasting night life, the young, beautiful women and the assortment of bars, clubs, lounges, and the list goes on and on. soon, i wouldn't be able to live in the suburbs without feeling restless and bored after a few hours. sure, living in maryland is relaxing and quiet, but after a day's rest i would find myself aching to once again be part of the fast paced life of new york. i found life in maryland purposeless, lazy; life in new york full of energy, fulfillment.

living in new york has taught me too many lessons for me to type into words. i can be lazy and say that it has opened my mind to life, to the harsh realities and the simple pleasures. it has forced me to be accepting and understanding of everybody, to give everybody a chance. for instance, at any given moment on the street or in a subway car, you will meet people from every walk of life--all races, all ages, all professions, all religions, all cultures. living in new york has stopped me from jumping too soon to conclusions and from passing judgment too early. consequently, it has conditioned me to cover my ass, to watch out for thieves, to protect my wallet, myself, and my identity. i learned not to trust, yet at the same time, i learned to give. i learned that everybody is selfish (no free lunch, you economics majors), that someone will not help you out of the pure goodness of his heart, but only with his own benefit in mind (however there are very few exceptions). and this is just my short answer.

new york city is a jungle of deceit and corruption. there are no rules. people need to survive in new york, so they do what they can. new yorkers fight, show no emotion, no weakness. new yorkers become assholes; they have their own shit to worry about, so why should they help somebody else out? new yorkers hate tourists, always walking too slow or stopping erratically in the street (don't they know new yorkers have places to go, people to see?). the new york state of mind engulfs all of its residents, slowly turning everyone into a tough individual able to withstand any obstacle. we have learned that showing any sign of weakness is detrimental in our fight to the top. but how closely does the hard facade resemble the true feelings of the individual?

watching this man's desperate plea for help was such a real, tender, human experience, similar to seeing life being created or life being prematurely taken away. he hobbled up and down the car only to be greeted with closed hands and averted eyes. however, there were some black folks, dressed equally as shabby, who dug deep into their pockets and souls to happily give a few coins. it seems as if those who need help are the few who understand the importance of giving it. i handed the man two dollars.

when i saw the kidney-less man on the A train that day, i was reminded that raw human emotions still exist beneath the stony exterior of the new yorker skin. i knew that regardless of the thick headed quality of new yorkers, they still have some form of compassion, they still can empathize. i understood that new yorkers are some of the most real, human people out there on earth and that i am happy to be living in new york, as one of them.

-andy

my last week home

it has been too long since i have graced this http address with my presence. but i can explain my absence.

i was at my home in maryland for a full week. a week that i have allocated for myself to spend time away from the tedious hours of 9 to 5 office work, away from the loud, unforgiving movements of new york city. a week to spend reflecting on my summer, making some last minute memories with close friends, and appreciating having a mother clean up after my thoughtless messes. a week for myself and myself only.

you never do realize what you have until it is gone. and although as trite as that statement may seem, it speaks volumes about my grappling with the gentle suburbia that i have come to love as my childhood home. for so many years, i have taken 'life' for granted--the roads i have driven countless times to get to school, the unkempt condition of my strewn bed sheets, the aroma of my basement (thanks to mom, who had purchased one of those scent-releasing device that plugs into the outlet), the clean bathroom sink (free of dried toothpaste goo), my friends who are only phone calls away--anything and everything that i have ever done while growing up in north potomac, maryland.

and at the time i didn't realize there would come a time that i would have to leave. of course i knew it would come, like a child's blind faith that after each night the sun will rise. but i did not know the ramifications of actually leaving, becoming my own individual, making my own decisions (and mistakes), and ultimately pursuing my own interests as a person. i hadn't ever thought about the emotions that it entailed or the painful yearning of something that has already long gone. now that i am finally experiencing it, i cannot say that leaving the nest rests well in my heart.

for me, leaving for college last year is the rough draft, the careless, cursory moving away from home. i went through the motions and said my goodbyes, but with the comfort and knowledge i will see everyone again. but this time around, i am certain that i won't see some people, just because they won't come back to maryland, our home base, so to speak. this is real. everybody will be off pursuing their own thing. it makes me understand how uncertain the future is, how we never know what will happen to all of us in five or ten years.

is being an adult all that i had expected as a child? i remember always wanting to grow up, so i can buy my first pack of cigarettes or my first penthouse forum (i have yet to do that...) or to see rated r movies or to carry a fake id confidently. or to just be my own person, to follow principles and morals completely different from my parents. to make my own mistakes and to be able to call something completely my own, whether it be a creation or just something that i stuck my name on. am i ready to take on the world? or to just survive, living in new york? we shall see what the future holds in the upcoming year.

so i am finally leaving my home. and that house i will refer to as 'my parents house'. and my new home will be the apartment nestled on the corner of union square. and here i am, all grown up.

-andy

the bankers and our balls

here is my dad's response to the article, debtor nation (harvard magazine, july 2007), which discusses the future of the united states' economy in terms of its increasingly overwhelming trade deficit and global markets:

This is a very complicated issue, depending on how people view it. But one thing is sure: the quality of life in US is decreasing. Almost everything is more expensive than 10 years ago, such as house, food, gas, milk, etc, but the salary stays the same. When Mom and I started working in 1993, we can afford to buy our current house. Look what people who just entered workforce can buy now? Even a small townhouse is beyond their reach. So many people wonder, US may reach the peak. (but people said that in 1990 too).

And how currency works is even much more complicated. You many not know, but the Federal Reserve is a private company. US dollars are not issued by US government, but issued by a private bank. US government has to borrow the money from them and pay them interest. You may go find out more info on this.

-Dad

as much as i want to explore debtor nation and discuss several possibilities and implications of said article, the necessity to understand america's own economy is more important. the direction of america's economy in the global financial markets will be addressed in a later entry.

before i write anything remotely meaningful or significant, let me remind you that the united states is a corporation (also controlled by corporations), banks are run by heartless money chasers (they will lend money, but only if it serves their own best interests in the end, aka house or car as collateral, interest rates, etc), and money is the blood of civilized society (it is the means of all commercial trade and the measure and the instrument by which one product or service is sold and or purchased; the removal of all money or even a low supply of money can prove catastrophic, i.e. the great depression of the 1930's).

have you ever asked yourself how people can exchange green pieces of 'paper' for food and services? or that the number printed on these green things seem to be worth much more than the green things themselves?

the fact of the matter is that the federal reserve is a private corporation (i know, the 'federal' in the name really throws you off). before 1913, when the federal reserve act was passed, the money supply in the united states was controlled by congress. however, the federal reserve act removed the right from congress to 'create' money and gave it to the private corporation that we know and love as the federal reserve.

the federal reserve makes money. literally. they spend about 2-7 cents per bill to print numbers onto a green sheet of 'paper' that passes through so many hands everyday. making something and selling it at 5% premium is considered good business. imagine spending as little as a few cents to print yourself a one hundred dollar bill. that is around a 2000% mark up. sick. and if that isn't sick enough, realize that the federal reserve has its dirty hands in all of our pockets in the form of interest payments.

in order to understand that the federal reserve will ultimately gain all the wealth in the nation through interest payments, imagine playing a large game of poker with millions of other individuals. everyone buys a set number of chips from the house, who risks none in the game. every round, the house will take 2% from the pot. during the game, some people will gain chips, others will lose chips, but the total number slowly decreases. the game continues, and some will run out of chips completely. those who are out can borrow more chips from the house, but only if they sign a 'mortgage' to pay the house back with interest and offer some sort of property as collateral. if the player defaults, then the house will acquire the player's property. no matter who wins or loses the poker game, the house wins. replace 'house' with 'the federal reserve' and you can see how eventually, through interest payments, the federal reserve will get all of its created money back. the bankers risk nothing in this game, they just collect their interest and fees.

the only difference is that the 'poker game' in real life is much more serious. people cannot quit the game except by death. the money people earn will always go back to the government in taxes and interest. in fact, the bankers made it even easier for consumers to borrow and spend money: the credit card. the federal reserve has every us citizen's ball sack in a thorny vice grip. deliciously painful.

and what was the reason for passing the federal reserve act? remember that corporate america and its republic is owned and financed by international bankers. these greedy and heartless financiers decided to privatize the federal reserve. in doing so, they orchestrated one of the greatest money making scams in the history of the world--an entire nation cloaked under propaganda ('helping to pay for america's debt is patriotic') was duped into throwing its hard earned cash at the bankers who created the system. these foreign investors and bankers found a way to get their hands in the wallets of american citizens. however, another unfortunate reason is that the united states needed money to pay for war, namely world war II.

of course, privatizing the federal reserve served as a way to back big banks in the early 1900s, which is reasonable because during those times the american economy bounced around bank panics. my only grievance is that this economy, based on borrowing and spending, is only in favor of the lenders, i.e. the big banks.

and i'm jealous that i'm a broke-ass college student.

but way back in the 18th century when the founding fathers were laying out plans for our country today, thomas jefferson said:

if the american people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their money, first by inflation then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around them (around the banks), will deprive the people of their property until their children will wake up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered.

was jefferson psychic? jefferson wanted congress to control the money; that money will be the servant, instead of the master, of humanity.

now the rich will continue to become richer and the poor will continue to become poorer. its sad that so many of our own citizens are sent overseas to fight for the preservation of ideals they believed to be true. why can't we at least send the illegal immigrants? i'm sure they have some decent experience with weapons. it also frustrates me that the american government--founded on democracy, liberty, and all those good values that we are taught in school--is one of the most hypocritical deceptive institutions created. they say it is for the people, but is it really for the people when they are hiding the truth, telling two-faced lies, and basically robbing it's people? for brainwashing the public to acquire personal gains?

john f kennedy once warned:

the great enemy of the Truth is very often not the lie--deliberate, contrived, and dishonest--but the myth--persistent, persuasive, and realistic.

the government won't directly lie to the public (ok, i take that back; george bush's weapons of mass destruction, anyone?) but will give a plausible reason to hide the real truth. take kennedy's advice: challenge everything.

-andy

what have you done with your life?

to everyone who reads this, i ask:

what changes can we make to the us to make it a better place?
what changes can we make to the world to make it a better place?

i will post my responses in the near future.

-andy

cluttered desktops and the postal service

hello world.

i hate looking at my laptop's desktop because it is so cluttered. it is a mix of the most useful icons: computer drive, intronet, short cuts to necessary softwares or files, and recycle bin; with the most unuseful icons: short cuts to random ass programs and folders of random files and the files mis-titled and saved directly onto the desktop in dire convenience. people should swap desktops with their friends just to their friends can organize them; kind of like passing around a rough draft to get extra pairs of eyes to edit.

anyway, i was forced to go to the post office today to send my roommate's recording device. i almost forgot the sluggishness and frustration of waiting in line at places like the post office and the department of motor vehicles. it is painful and unbearable. had i not equipped myself with my ipod, i would've melted in sheer impatience. and i wished that i had smoked/drank prior to coming.

at the post office (and the dmv--'mva' in maryland), there is always a line of at least eight people waiting for at most two open windows. and the workers behind those windows are always the sassiest black women ever, who are more interested in their colored nails than they are about helping you. why are these services so damn slow? the government workers don't care about their productivity levels, hate their jobs just as much as we do, and are probably fucked up on some drug(s). and it sucks because we are kind of forced to use the postal service (granted, there is fedex and DHL): i cannot send packages via e-mail (not yet), i am too lazy to move a package halfway across the country/world, and i am willing to shell out a few bucks to have these people take care of it for me.

the worst part about walking through the doors of the post office is that you are confronted with such a confusing assortment of necessary information for post office shit: there are two or three lines meandering through the small lobby (lobby and line size based on location of post office; i'm basing this description off the post office on 165 st/amsterdam ave), a counter with several different forms, another counter with several different sizes of packaging boxes, signs hanging on the wall in both english and spanish about the kind of shipping service you would like, etc. the first thing i do is get in line, following my 'why i need to get into this line logic'--holy shit, a line! if i don't get in it now, regardless of what the line is for, it will get longer and longer. i will get in the line now and ask later (which is why i think every line in america needs a large sign that distinguishes it from the unpopular lines, such as the line to get your balls chopped off or the line that sends you off a cliff, to name a few). so i get into line, carefully inspecting the hands of other line-waiters searching for clues to help ensure a clean, quick, and painless encounter with the post office worker.

of course, none of the clues help me at all. i show up to the window and tell the worker what my deal is: 'i have to send these three machines (MOTU recording devices and two microphone boxes, if you want to get technical) to this address' (holds up address hastily scribbled on the back of an envelope). so we slowly go through all the possible options, their costs, their pros and cons, of sending the damn package. and it nearly takes twenty minutes because of their slow ass computers and their need to restart their query every time we change one thing in the shipment information (the software they use requires the weight and measurement of each item, the appraised value, etc). eventually we decide that global express is the best way to go. she gives me a few large bags and two forms to fill out. nice.

i also want to take this time to note that post offices should have a large sign with instructions so people won't blindingly jump into the line using the 'line-logic'. a large sign that also helps people prepare their shit before talking to one of the workers, so people don't get all the way to the front of the line to realize that they need to get out of the line due to a missing form or document. another irrelevant instance that irritates me is when people get to the front of the line at a fast food joint and spend five minutes thinking verbally about what to buy. you should know what you will get before you get into the line, bitch. yeah, irrelevant.

anyway, i take the form to the nearest counter and begin reading it over. some of the form items are ridiculous: name of object, object description, units, unit of measurement. i put down 'monitor' (the sassy black woman working with me already suggested monitor because i was too indifferent to correct her), 'it monitors', 'one', 'monitors'. such useless, meaningless, mindless shit.

lastly, i get back in line, wait another twenty or so minutes, and finally shipped off the damn package. finally.

lessons learned:
> smoke a fat, fat doobie before going to the post office. if you go sober, the thick headed-ness and unnecessary sass of the workers will make you want to kill yourself in frustration.
> ...yeah, i think thats it.

-andy

george w. bush's sick, twisted game

last night, while baking my special cookies, i turned on the daily show to watch jon stewart's take on why bush says the things he says.

we have all seen and heard jokes aimed towards bush's lack of eloquence. in fact, there are several sites out there solely devoted to bush quotations that reveal his idiocy. at first (maybe in middle school), i would defend bush: 'everybody says stupid shit sometime. you can't expect someone to be on their toes with everything he says. its just that the media covers him so much that if we are nitpicky, we can find flaws.'

however, bush's lack of competence has really proven itself true in the previous four years. but is there a reason why he chooses to 'sound retarded'? bush is the president--he must be suffering severe damage to his frontal lobe if he doesn't think the entire liberal domain of america is mocking his poor command of the english language. so he, or his ivy league educated speech writers, must be playing a sick game with the liberals in this country.

before i address bush's sick game, let me remind you that the majority of america (when i say 'majority of america,' i mean the majority of america's voting power) is old, white, and conservative. they reside in what i will refer to as 'middle america'--the large, open space between the east coast and the west coast. people who live in middle america have everything pre-packaged for their consumption; they shop at wal-mart, don't remain in contact access with the internet, watch fox news, and therefore do not interact with 'the world' (of course they are still interacting with the world, but i suppose when i use 'the world', i am talking about keeping updated with the world news; that is another issue i will address at a later time). pretty much whatever they see on tv, they will believe. whether it is the faith instilled to them in the form of religion or through example of their parents during their childhood, generations after generations will blindly follow the institutions known as the church and the government. flatly, they don't think for themselves.

now, bush, that sick, sick genius, preyed on this information for his personal financial gains. he knew that in order to gain support to invade iraq for its oil, he had to establish a rapport with his middle american supporters. and how exactly did he establish that rapport? he talked like a retard. the lemmings that live in middle america don't want a smart president; they want a president that they can have a beer with, a president that they can relate to. when the president constructs a sentence with redundant clauses, that isn't the president showing his idiocy to the liberals: thats him trying to communicate to middle america. and not only that, the emergence of fox news being conservative propaganda (if you don't think fox news is biased, check out this; if you don't want to read through all that text, watch this short video as it reveals fox's absurd ignorance and narrow-mindedness). so people in middle america will watch fox and believe whatever fox tells them. sad, i know. but its even more sad that middle americans probably don't think fox is 'propaganda' material at all.

jon stewart views the president's inability to speak to the smarter individuals as his 'struggle to bring higher thought to the masses'. so hilariously true.

stewart talks about how bush uses the phrase 'in other words' in many of his speeches. he says that generally, the phrase 'in other words' is used when the speaker doesn't expect the audience to understand him. stewart says 'but we do understand you; the look on our face is not confusion. it's disbelief.' how can george bush have gotten away with this for so long?

of course this ties into george bush's evil plan to make billions and billions of dollars by deceiving the middle americans who supported him during election times. his speech writers must know what they are doing. george bush is probably this incredibly smart, greedy, soulless man that will sacrifice telling the public the truth for his own financial endeavors. and he has played his role of 'retarded figurehead' so well a few years ago that nobody suspected a thing. but alas, hindsight is twenty/twenty, and not only democrats realize bush's full destruction on american lives and american ideals. we now know the reason for invading iraq was not for WMD's but for OIL. and that bush went to the extent to sacrifice the world trade center just to gain support to explore the middle east (if you haven't yet, watch Fahrenheit 9/11; the bin ladens are big investors in american corporations). if it wasn't for george bush's delicate ploy to 'speak retardedly' to establish rapport with middle americans, then maybe we could've understood his ulterior motives much sooner. smart man, george bush.

on a side note, i saw a clip of neil cavuto's interview with president bush and the entire time was cavuto sucking bush's figurative teat. do you think cavuto really admires george bush that much (enough to get on his knees and open his accepting mouth)? or maybe he gets paid generously for saying nice things to the president (by the way, this interview was aired on fox news)? i cannot decide which of those is more despicable.

regardless, with only 529 days left under george bush's reign, all i can say is: well played, georgie. well played.

-andy

insert original title here

i started running with the niketown's running club last tuesday. i ran three miles in central park with the group at the pace of about nine minutes per mile. it was exhausting. tuesday was humid and bleak and i haven't ran in the longest time. i was surprised that i made it the entire way.

hopefully i can maintain this routine and run twice every week.

afterwards, my friend ellen took me to see the trading floor of bank of america. like the trading floor at ubs, all the seats are equipped with three or four screens, a fancy telephone with all sorts of dials, all sorts of amenities (trash bin and recycle bin next to each seat, water cooler directly behind every two or three seats), and of course an expensively comfortable chair. i jokingly said to ellen 'the only thing each seat is missing is a hole for them to use the bathroom.'

but seriously, these firms don't want anyone to feel the slightest need to stay away from his or her seat for longer than a few minutes.

ellen was talking to me about how the 'juniors' (what they call the new interns) do all the bitch work for the more senior employees. i can imagine that. that is similar to the social structure of a fraternity or even of some high schools (especially those that resemble the movie 'dazed and confused'). juniors do the bitch work, but once they become senior, then can make the new juniors do bitch work. and juniors should note that everyone in the firm has gone through the bitch work process. its like earning your dues.

speaking of the fraternity-esque structure of investing firms, there is a certain level of camaraderie among the male employees. of course i don't know much about this, but ellen was telling me about how they joke around, watch youtube, and generally don't take work too seriously.

and these are the people making money out of nothing. you don't have to be a genius to do it, or graduate with a 3.9 gpa, or any of that. just make sure you're the best damn slave you can be when you are a junior. or suck some really good dick.

-andy

(l)earning respect on the chinatown bus

last friday, after getting out of the thick heat and settling into my seat on the dc-bound chinatown bus on 7th avenue between 41st and 42nd street (right outside of the red lobster), i unfortunately encountered (what they call in the service industry) a bitch. she looked like a latina-caucasian mix with thin light brown hair. she wore light tan clothes and a pair of nike sneakers. and she sat two seats in front of me, across the aisle.

as i boarded the bus, i noticed that she, who i will now refer to as 'bitch', had her legs folded in the window seat beside her. but when the bus began to fill up, i heard her whiny voice over the buzz of midday traffic:

'i boarded this bus at 11:30am and i didn't know you guys [the eastern travel chinatown bus company] were going to pick up more people. i don't want to give up my leg space because i have very cramped legs.' complain, complain, complain, bitch, bitch, bitch.

ok. before i blow my frustrated load all over bitch's complaining face, a few things crossed my mind (directed to her).

1) the bus has always and will always go to the 7th/41st stop. the information is provided online and also on the schedule card that the chinese lady gives out. learn to read.
2) you are not the only with 'cramped legs'; there are 40 other passengers with the same leg space you have. the only difference that sets you apart isn't 'cramped legs' but 'poor attitude' or 'lack of courtesy' so please shut the fuck up and give peace to the rest of the passengers.
3) consumers should realize that in certain situations, the threat 'i will take my business elsewhere' made towards businesses will fall on deaf ears. for instance, when i worked at joe's crab shack, we seldom received that threat. but when we did, the managers countered with 'fuck her--we have plenty of other paying costumers for that to make any difference. it just makes it easier for us because our servers now don't have to deal with that bitch.' honestly, the chinatown bus has enough paying customers to worry about your 'cramped legs' and your grievances.

i told bitch to calm down.

'don't talk to me like that; don't you know to respect your elders?'

i don't know what infuriated me more: her lack of respect for her juniors (diction?) or her playing the 'respect your elders' card. how can she demand my respect under the premise that she is merely older than me? for the five minutes that i have known her, she has not proven herself worthy for my respect. she has not shown respect for the chinatown bus driver, for the passengers sitting near her, for the poor soul who got stuck sitting next to her and her 'cramped legs'. who is she to ask for my respect, period?

i will respect people who deserve and earn my respect, such as people who also show respect. 'respect your elders' is a subset of a larger 'respect people who have not given you a reason to not respect them' mantra (it doesn't make sense for those who choose to adhere to the 'respect your elders' so strictly that they become douche bags to children all over the world). for instance, i will respect people who i do not know, out of common courtesy. until somebody has proven himself to be an asshole, i will treat them with respect.

i will try, at least.

the only way that bitch can redeem herself is if something really bad happened to her prior her boarding the bus, which attributed to her sour mood. like the death of her parents or something. i wish ;).

-andy

day seven of my cannabis hiatus...

sanjay: did you know that there are amazing opportunities to be had in the exploitation of emerging third-world countries?
conrad: (to sanjay) there's 300 billionaires in this country and 40 million people living below the poverty line. wake up 7-eleven; this is the fucking third world.
(nancy and conrad leave room)
nancy: how do you know all that stuff?
conrad: the daily show.

-weeds, episode 21

i haven't written in a while. for the past few nights, i really couldn't will myself to write anything meaningful in here. it must've been all the free tv i get online (thanks victor for weeds and scrubs).

not to mention, marc has not been in for two days. so that is two days idly spent online websurfing and watching episodes. and here is my way overdue review of weeds.


weeds (showtime, season three begins august 13 at 10pm) is one of the most real, human tv shows that i have ever seen. granted, i don't watch much tv, but weeds reveals an underground world of drug dealing, politics, business, money, relationships, deception--all conveniently hidden under the delicate guise of a safe, suburban california community cutely named 'agrestic' (agrestic means 'rural'). weeds, created and produced by jenji kohan (writer for sex and the city, gilmore girls, and mad about you), is filled with sass and crass, witty and provocative dialogue. weeds really takes the standard 'american dream' and uncovers an entire side that most choose to ignore in a comedic, sometimes dark, manner. in it's audacity and blunt desire to cross controversial television standards (following showtime's mantra: 'no limits'), weeds does not beat around the bush with issues that other programs may be hesitant to address.

nancy botwin (mary-louise parker, who won the golden globe for best tv series-comedy in 2006, beating the other nominees who were all 'desperate housewives'), is widowed and left with two children. in order to maintain her lifestyle, she decides to deal marijuana and eventually begins growing her own strain (appropriately dubbed by snoop dogg as 'milfweed'). for the rest of the characters, there is celia hodes (elizabeth perkins) who is a self-righteous neighbor who hates her obese daughter (she calls her 'isa-belly'), as well as her cheating husband; doug wilson (hilarious kevin nealon) as nancy's accountant and business adviser, city councilman, and a huge pothead; heylia james (tonye patano) and her nephew conrad (romany malco) as nancy's first marijuana suppliers; and other drug dealers, a DEA agent, nancy's two adorable likable children, etc.

weeds is an adult show with adult subject matter that addresses issues on so many levels. watch season three! mary-kate olsen will be in the majority of this season as a love interest of silas botwin, nancy's oldest son. the upcoming season should be compelling, with or without a dime of sweet cheeba cheeba ;).

anyway, i am leaving work early to catch a bus to dc.

-andy

the rat race

i am going to try my best to shit out this entry within the few hours i have left at work. a few hours should be enough, right? enough to have the words splattered thoughtlessly over this screen, sure, but maybe not enough to run a meaningful message through them. alas, i will try my best...but bear with me.

my mind has been fumbling around with this idea for quite some time ever since my short walking commute from rubin to tisch hall became so deeply rooted in my everyday routine that i no longer had to devote any conscious thought to it. instead, i devoted 60% of my conscious thought to why am i studying at an undergraduate business school? (the other 40% is divided into listening to my ipod, meandering through camera crews, trying to step on the crunchiest looking leaf, greeting friends along the way, punching the midget hobo who yells out the amount of time left before our next classes begin, etc). i ask again, why?

what used to be an industry where networking and connections were the main ways of landing a finance job is now an industry where thousands of 'programs' (created by undergraduate universities or colleges) are established to mold the minds of younger and younger people to chase money. and they train them damn well.

and here i am, in one of those programs learning how to chase money. these four years, which i would like to spend learning what i want to learn, experimenting, and finding myself, will be spent learning about collateralized debt obligations, leveraged buyouts, and market derivatives. am i supposed to have this time stripped away from me so i can spend more time making money during my prime years of life? to be honest, i do not care too much (having chinese parents, i am limited to being either a doctor, an engineer, a lawyer, or a businessman. i don't want to be a doctor because i would be a damn bad one and get all the hospitals within a 100 mile radius sued, i don't want to be an engineer because i like girls too much and would not like to spend my free time with mr. right-hand, but i may want to be a lawyer or a politician because i like to lie, but those professions require a master's degree that i can get after studying something as lame as art history in an undergraduate school). doing business for me is kind of a cop out from life. but hey, whatever makes the green, right?

recently, it seems that everyone i talk to is pursuing business in some way. that means that the value of holding a business degree of some sort or graduating from a business school will depreciate. that only makes it more difficult to land a secure job in the finance industry, with so many other young, qualified, money-chasers entering the work force. how can i differentiate myself from the rest? wear a pink hat. no, seriously. a large, feathery, pink hat.

from what i gathered about the finance industry, anyone with basic knowledge of math can become a 'big swinging dick' (if you are unfamiliar with this term, read the book 'liar's poker'). the stuff we learn in finance class will be retaught to us in an internship. the stuff we learn in accounting class will become as easy and mindless as browsing facebook (ok, but maybe not as procrastination-inducing). so why make us waste our four years learning and relearning, not to mention creating unnecessary competition that erodes egos and self-esteem?

because of the fundamentals of economics: supply and demand. wall street is to chasing and making money as sparta is to chasing and killing enemies. wall street is always looking for younger and younger people to become 'investment bankers' (what they call their henchmen that makes the majority of their money). however, the investment banker side of the deal isn't so bad either; they get paid lavishly in year-end bonuses. so in order to bridge the gap between wall street who want more and more qualified individuals (more so that the limited number of available job positions is high in demand) and high school graduates looking for high paying jobs (but aren't willing to go into medicine or engineering or anything that requires more than 8 years of studying), undergraduate business programs are cropping up everywhere. these programs are feeding the young people's demand for high paying jobs as well as wall street's demand for qualified young people.

i remember a few months ago, i was talking to some of my friends about chasing money. regardless of whether you make hundreds of thousands per year or tens of thousands per year, you will still be living roughly the same life style. with that being said, how important is money in our lives? i think there is a certain point in our lives where we don't need any more money to live comfortably. and when i say 'live comfortably' i mean that you can buy whatever you need/want without thinking twice about the amount of money you dropped. after that point, greed overtakes our rational thought. once we start the race of chasing money, its tough to get out. its tough to stop and say, 'ok, i have made the five million mark that i set for myself eight years ago, i'll see you guys in tijuana.' by then, you'll think 'but i could make five more million in less than half the time it got me this five now'. you're going to need balls of steel to get yourself out of that race. just don't forget the big picture (how much money would you like to make before you throw in the towel?).

when i think about the jobs that people have in the finance industry and all the minute-by-minute news updates that they have to inform themselves in order to make financially sound decisions, it overwhelms me. i used to think that working on wall street is like being on the forefront of the world: in terms of news, technology, and even lifestyles. you will hear news that the general public will not hear for a few days at least. at first, this appealed to me. why would i not want to know about shit first? i could finally say, in my wretched sing-song voice, 'i know something you don't know' and actually mean it. but then i realized the twisted, sad truth. that keeping up with the news, minute-by-minute, will only make me more secular, more worldly. thinking that i am on the forefront of 'life' itself, have i forgot how to live it? have i forgot the simple pleasures of waking up on a late sunday afternoon, only to decide whether or not to stroll into the park with my book of beginner's crossword puzzles?

all this money chasing business will only weigh down my conscience. i will spend time deciding which piece of news is important and which to ignore, weeding out the advice of investors, slowly learning to trust my gut. hedge fund managers, for instance, sacrifice a night's worth of sound sleep for the opportunity to eat a delicious, albeit expensive, meal. not to mention the amount of time i will spend working. soon, i will slowly forget what is important in my life, the values, the morals, the family, the friends. that is something i wish does not happen. just don't forget the big picture.

and this is what i keep telling myself. but i don't know why i should even start worrying about this. what i should be worrying about is getting a good gpa so i can stick my shiny black shoes into the door of finance opportunity.

money, hoes, and clothes; all a nigga knows...

-andy

scattered thoughts, pt 4

why don't people learn to use the vast resource we call the intronet? seriously, if you can't figure something out, you are not looking hard enough. trying to find software? bittorrent or various p2p programs and then crack keygens. looking for a remedy? there are tons and tons of forums out there with people who share your problem. also, if somebody brings up something that you are unfamiliar with in a conversation, google it. it sure makes me sound a lot smarter than i really am. its called google, baby. oh, and wikipedia.

here are two other innovative search engines:

www.dogpile.com - returns sites from other leading search engines, including google.

www.clusty.com - another metasearch engine that groups sites based on 'clusters'. check it out.

this entry isn't a complaint towards incompetence but an eye opener to the internet's resources. just so you know ;).

work still blows.

-andy

my 43rd entry on this lovely blag

hello readers; let me update you on my day.

today my department had a picnic at the morningside campus, the one that is generally associated with the undergraduate college at columbia university (i work at the columbia medical campus, located on 168st/broadway). there was plenty of free food and alcohol, both of which my hedonist self gorged on. i think i had seven alcoholic beverages (some budweiser, some coors light, some mike's hard lemonade) and i was fairly tipsy. we played a pick up game of football, watched the girls hoola hooping, and just plain chilled. it was fun times, especially since i can't stand office work (such mindless, mindless shit) and this picnic was a good change of pace.

i forget how fun drinking was. i really enjoy hearing myself talk when i'm tipsy.

they also handed out free t-shirts. they are so hilariously lame that i'm going to wear it proudly next year at school. when people ask, i'll just reply 'this was my summer.' for those curious as to what the shirt looks like, the lame (and only important) part of the shirt is the back: 'you propose, we submit'. that pretty much sums up our department's purpose and my entire summer working here. i also copped myself an extra t-shirt for a friend. are you that friend? perhaps.

anyway, i decided to write today because i wanted to leave an imprint of my virtual fist on this random place in the internet that i have deemed my blag. i had so many random thoughts today, most of which i forgot as soon as a new one arose. but i will try my best to retrieve them now.

1) marc and dan (my bosses, dan is technically marc's boss, and the boss of the entire research department) were discussing data and how with the help of the internet with so many users, people are interpreting data much differently than several years ago. interesting shit. consider this--people understand data but in direct comparison with other data, say for example, data over time, or the gdp of america vs gdp of another country. but there are now so many new innovative ways to visualize and present data that now people can view metadata (the simplest definition of metadata is 'data about data'). for a good example of how data is viewed, check out this (debunking myths about third world countries). the future of the internet and technology, i believe, is about new ways of showing, manipulating, and presenting data. before marc and dan had that conversation, i had no idea the impact of data on everything. i'm now certain i will take a data mining class at stern.

2) just a completely random thought: the next time you brush your teeth, use the hand you don't normally use (sorry if i just offended anyone missing an arm or two, or maybe even three if your parents were in hiroshima when the a-bomb detonated; sorry again if i just offended anyone for the hiroshima remark). i've been brushing my teeth with my left hand for the past couple of days. before, my left hand felt so clumsy clutching the toothbrush insensitively poking the insides of my mouth, but now i feel pretty comfortable. balance and symmetry are important. my right side is so much more dominant than my left and i want to change that.

3) what do you think of the future of the internet? i've been reading articles about google bidding for open airwaves from the FCC, but only if certain conditions are met. verizon/at&t oppose this plan because if it goes through, google's value would increase immensely. can you imagine what it would be like if there was a third service wireless 'wholesaler' for the american public? then people who don't even own a computer can surf the net. interesting lead to follow up on in the near future.

4) speaking of which, access to the internet should be provided to people in third world countries. providing internet to third world countries should be as necessary as providing food, water, education, and vaccinations. with the new $100 laptop, it is definitely possible (large corporations are working together to implement a 'one laptop per child' plan). i wonder which broadband tycoon will take advantage of this new opportunity. likewise, we should invest in that company.

5) what do you think is the new way to interact with technology? before there was a joystick with a button (atari), then a keyboard, then a mouse. there are stylus/tablets so people can draw and write. microsoft surface is pretty intense. wii's motion sensor is intense shit, too (the wii is badass--if you haven't heard of wii-fit, i highly suggest a google search; i am convinced that the wii is going to pioneer a whole new world of video gamers and leave the ps3 in the dust). i never gave this any thought until today when marc was talking about the microsoft surface. the way we interact with computers and technology in general is way taken for granted. i couldn't do shit without a keyboard. microsoft surface is a step in the right direction. we should follow steve job's example: simplicity and intuitiveness. his creations have helped dumb ass retards operate computers (macbooks), listen to music (ipods), and make phone calls (iphone). job's next step is helping dumb ass retards with their lives with ilife.

6) there must be an easier way to move through the internet. lets forget about internet 'browsers' and think of something new. along the same lines, web 3.0 is almost here. how about a facebook application that allows users to choose how to interact with facebook? take your time to understand that last line, because i'm not sure i understand it completely, either ;). but not even a facebook application. how about just something that lets users define how they interact with the web?

7) wireless laptop chargers. lets make one and get rich.

8) the republican party is going down the drain. consider this--ever since the bush administration took office in 2000, they have been working hard to restore the machiavellian executive power of the president that was taken away during nixon's presidency. they allowed, no, engineered 9/11, lied to the american public (seriously, i feel like people just buy the media propaganda bullshit), waged a 'war on terror', created the patriot act (i think this may have been the first move on the public that lets bush do whatever the hell he wants), sent troops to iraq (think vietnam war) and the list goes on. the democrats haven't made any move on the gop, but there are plenty of people who want bush and cheney out of office. there are also rumors of a terrorist attack (could also be engineered by the bush administration) so then bush would pull the 'i told your ass so, america, you should've listened to me' bullshit. seriously, one more year...

9) with 8 being said, i feel like i am more distrusting of institutions. i don't know how people can be so misled about the government. like in harry potter, so many people trust the ministry of magic (of course, with voldemort breathing down their necks, it is understandable). but in america where speech and thought are supposed to be free, why do people bend to the government and are proud to stand behind their leaders? america is a shithole. the government needs to fix the real problems in the country instead of pursuing their own monetary interests, aka oil. people should stop being sheep and think for themselves (especially to those living in between new york city and los angeles).

10) i discovered today that i am an environmentalist. the thought of renewable sustainable energy really turns me on.

congratulations if you read through all 10. after re-reading those points, i realized that i am a major dork.

ASS PUSSY PUSSY SEX GUNS DRUGS ALCOHOL

goodnight, folks.

-andy

a brief, fleeting moment

usually i never ever know what to write about.

but i think i have a pretty good idea of why i write.

i want to put into words how i feel about things and about the way i live and about the way i think, but i suck at it since my command of the english language blows (the phrase 'how i feel about things', for instance, is as boring and unoriginal as this parenthetical insert. hah.) i want to believe that each entry i write is another opportunity to understand who i am or the way i think or whatever.

i put specific, fleeting moments in my life into words so i can understand them better. but i am unable to visit and revisit all of those fleeting moments long enough to process them into text. most of them slip through my shallow short term memory (i should be more willing to write shit down in a notebook/remember to carry my notebook on the subway trains).

i try to revisit those moments in my life where i am searching for a specific within an ambiguity. you may ask, where the fuck did you get that phrase from, andy? well, i got it from my expository writing class. anyway, i try to revisit those moments, but i can't recreate them on command. sometimes its a scent that makes me take a step back and remember the summer before my sophomore year at blair (its my roommate's shampoo and i cannot describe in words the scent). sometimes its the color of the sky or the shape and movement of the clouds that reminds me of early march, the spring tennis season. sometimes its the rattling of the 1 train that reminds me of my childhood in chicago, living beneath the rude racket of the elevated track in a tall, narrow red bricked building. regardless, as the memories flash quickly in my mind's eye, it just as quickly fades into now, the present, reality. i want to capture those moments and put them into words that i can visit and revisit whenever i desire.

and the 'moments' are not as simple as 'this smell reminds me of working at NIST', but more of the emotions evoked when thinking about those moments; emotions that the most complex, hi-res emoticon cannot handle ;). but feel free to prove me wrong.

i like to write about myself. about my life, the things i do, the things i don't do. about the way i think, my thought processes, my sense of humor. about little things during the day that matter to me. about people who i talk to, laugh with, love dearly, miss considerably. i write to tackle my problems, to find solace in my confusion, to reconnect with myself. i write to figure shit. i do not write with the word 'and' :).

i am carving my own niche into the world, one spoken word at a time. hello, world!

my habit of smoking weed this past year has made me talk to myself in my thoughts, a la scrubs. is that weird? now i forget if i have always did that. but i know for a fact i have a conscience, just not sure if it is a good one.

-andy

now playing: alanis morrisette - you learn

freewriting, pt 1

i know i've said this billions of times before, but i really want to improve my writing skills. and no better way to do that than to just set aside ten minutes everyday to just write random shit. so here it goes.

freewriting--

i hate freewriting. i remember that this task used to be assigned to me as early as second grade. 'just write whatever you feel like writing, children' my teacher told us. whenever i looked at my black sheet of paper, i could not produce any words from my pen. i always drew a blank. what should i write about? i asked myself, time and time again. i would end up writing about nothing--the weather, my immediate thoughts (what should i write about?), my daily events--just very boring shit.

the last time i was asked to freewrite was in maaza's writing the essay class. except then, we were given a flower to write about. of course, i copped out and resorted to writing a haiku about flowers, since all i could do then was draw a blank. i couldn't think of anything meaningful to write about. i figured that my writing would not stand out amongst my class's writing and i needed to think of something different, hence the haiku. who the hell writes haikus about flowers in a writing expository class?

now, i have officially run out of free writing material. i am drawing many blanks. fuck. oh well, baby steps, right?

--

-andy

more pictures

bunnies: the culprit of cancer growth





















these are pretty old, but enjoy.

-andy

pictures

i can't think of a good caption for the above picture.












-andy

finally

i am finally going to sam's apartment to pick up my fucking bag. finally.

i wish i cared more about certain things. mom is upset about the broken window screens. i can't redeem myself as i do not have any opportunity to do so. and i can't apologize because i have done so too many times. i am pretty hopeless about this, but i feel like there isn't much i can do, regardless.

whatevs.

-andy

morning routine

just because i'm bored.

i set three alarms on my cell phone--8:00am, 8:20am, 8:40am--and i always turn off the first two to go back to sleep. i don't wake up that early because my roommates are usually up using the bathroom and showering. by 8:40am, i'm the only one left in the apartment so i can do whatever i want.

i shower, brush my teeth, then pour myself a bowl of honey bunches of oats and watch some morning news for a brief five minutes. or i turn to the insider, which is a tv program about celebrities. hot.

i put my clothes on and walk out the door. i stop next to the 1station and get my free copy of amny and walk ten blocks to 168th/b'way reading it.

walking from 157st to 168st is like walking through a different part of the world. the dominican republic, in particular. nobody speaks a lick of english. everyone is chilling on the sidewalk playing dominos or standing around. there are boxes of clothes on the street for less than ten dollars a piece.

but once i turn from broadway to 168th st, then it feels like i'm back in new york. a lot of different people (mostly nurses, doctors, students who work at the columbia medical center) and a lot of street vendors selling bagels, danishes, coffee, and egg sandwiches.

and then i get to my building, say 'hola' the security officer, press the button that summons the elevator carriage and go down to R4.

and here i am.

and work blows. :)

-andy

scattered thoughts, pt 3

day number 33 at work. marc, my casual supervisor (aka boss) is not in today. confusion ensues.

here is a list of random thoughts.

1) bookstores are soon going out of business. i heard the barnes&nobles on astor place is closing down. shopping on amazon, or even online, has gotten to be so convenient that baby boomers who can't tell the difference between the monitor and the mouse are buying how-to books on computers. buy from strand, your local bookstore! too bad i don't care enough to do so myself.

2) facebook applications have gone crazy. the number of facebook applications for each of the 20-some categories are in the hundred thousands. with that daunting number of facebook applications, someone should make a facebook application that organizes facebook applications. or something. facebook is becoming too much like myspace with the widgets, except i have to admit, it is much cleaner and easier on the eyes than myspace. myspace is trash. facebook is cleaner trash.

3) work blows. mindless, mindless work.

4) marc told me that on his roadtrip across the united states, he met tons and tons of people and understood how someone like george w. bush can get elected. the usa contains the east coast, the west coast, and everything in between is just filler. unfortunate.

5) marc also has a seven month old baby girl named shawna. he tells me this all the time: 'when you have your first kid, you will feel like all the accomplishments is reduced to nothing. your sole purpose now is to provide for a new life.' since he imparted that wisdom, i have been thinking about what kind of father i would be. it is still too early to tell.

6) i have developed the worst elevator rage imaginable. sometimes they are just too slow or people just have to get off at every single floor. that being said, i hate having to wait for the subway train, especially late nights when they are less frequent and not express. i'm just impatient.

7) more mindless, mindless work.

8) i am using a lot more abbrevs online lately. and ';)'. some other ones that i use regularly: omg, OMGZ, LOL (but never 'lol'), btw, ttyl. i like spelling 'what the fuck' out.

i'm bored.

-andy

it was all a dream...

...and if you don't know, now you know, nigguh

today, it poured. the sun, the clouds, the stars all paused--a brief, fleeting moment of silence--before the heavens erupted with rain. it was grandiose, extravagant, unrelenting. the rain punished the earth with waves after waves of merciless down pour.

you can tell when its about to rain when the air is noticeably still, the humidity weighing you down at the shoulders and ankles. you feel shackled and imprisoned by the stifling heat. walking soon resembles wading through thick, musky paste. the moisture in the air could be cut cleanly by one bolt of lightning and the rain that comes thereafter.

so it rains.

i was caught in the rain. like the stubborn, forgetful idiot i am, i was caught in the rain. stubborn, in that i knew it would rain. forgetful, in that i left my umbrella at jennifer's apartment. regardless, i was forced by mother nature to purchase a shitty, black umbrella for three dollars.

but what i hate about the rain in new york city is that it is never light rain. it is never calm, serene rain, but always unforgiving, determined-to-get-the-bottom-of-your-nice-pants-shit-dirty rain. this is the kind of rain that most can only enjoy from indoors, except for those who lack any tiny bit of their sanity. they may appreciate the hard rain directly from the gods.

after getting caught in the rain god's wrath, i realized i miss the rain in maryland or over any grassy field, for that matter. i miss the fresh cut lawn smell after a hard hour's work of mowing. i miss the slowly rising heat emanating from a 'black top' or driveway after a hot summer's day. i miss the quiet, peaceful scene that a light refreshing rain storm provides. my dad would turn off the television, open the garage door, prop open two lawn chairs for the both of us, and we would sit and watch waves after waves of jovial, carefree rain. the rain, in this case, is therapeutic to our senses, calming and nurturing our tired eyes, strained ears, and unappreciated noses. soothing, sometimes necessary, like a good cry.

however, the rain in the city will lower the humidity and the temperature. but only temporarily.

beautiful weekend coming up.

-andy

CRISP, harry potter, and ratatouille

the tool i use to search the data base for proposals is CRISP--computer retrieval of information on scientific projects. and its damn slow. each inquiry takes about 5-10 minutes, which leaves me ample time to vegetate in between searches.

anyway, i saw harry potter: order of the phoenix last night at the 12:01am show. i got there at around 10:14pm and talked to kim about costume ideas.

-wizard, patronus, dementor (includes a fight scene at the bookstore)
-whomping willow (includes a car and flailing branches)
-harry potter books
-harry potter and many dementors (also includes a fight scene)
-a wizard attempting to dress as a muggle (credit goes to bictor)
-broomstick (nimbus2001 or any, riding wizard optional)
-invisibility cloak
-a snitch, two quaffles, and a quidditch goal hoop (includes a flight scene)
-floo powder, portkey, or both (for added effect, grabbing and throwing the person who touches you)

i cannot wait for the seventh book to be released. i still need to decide on a costume.

on a random movie-related tangent, i saw ratatouille maybe a week and a half ago and i can honestly say i was not that impressed. sure, it was a cute movie with a little rat that talks. but there were some problems i had with the movie. first, the young boy is too one-dimensional. he is such a pushover and the writers did not give him enough redeeming qualities to make the audience empathize during his tribulations. and when he finally did triumph, it was more of a 'oh ok. i thought that would happen'. ho hum, nothing out of the ordinary. likewise, the chemistry between him and the girl seems too artificial, like the writers were trying to pull a romance story out of their asses. to put it simply, it is too cliche. additionally, there were too many slapstick visual gags that got old too quickly. they could have made more quality jokes.

although the idea and premise of ratatouille is cute, the movie falls short in the development of characters and quality of jokes. ratatouille is not as good as monsters, inc, finding nemo, or the incredibles.

work blows.

-andy

my first real day of work

hello blag readers.

today i was assigned a nice, thick stack of papers to sort through. and i swear, the fatigue you get in your eyes after 6 hours of doing this mindless task is exhausting.

so this is what i do.

i am given institution numbers (these numbers correspond to proposals that need to be tracked during their progress of securing research funds) so i can determine the principal investigator of said proposal. then depending on its fiscal year, i either grant it an award or terminate it.

lather, rinse, repeat four hundred times.

time for a nap.

-andy

interblaze, pt 1

i'm interblazing, currently, with victor and anita. hard to multi-task and hard to type while stoned.

i like my orange juice pulpy.

victor using his friends names in conversations makes me feel like i'm closer friends with him. he is such a sweetie.

and i forget why i opened this blag.

-andy

this is what i want you to do...

this week i would like you readers to do this.

go up to one random ass motherfuckin' person and say 'you are never ever going to see me ever again.'

and leave.

-andy

now what?

sometimes i feel like there are too many people who know of this blog and that in order to continue writing about people i hate without repercussions (yes, i'm talking about you), i will eventually have to start a new one under my pen name 'bananas'.

but until then, all names that appear in this blog are changed.

i wish i remembered what i was going to write about.

-andy

things i should avoid eating

i drank soda yesterday and felt like shit. here is a list of things i'm going to avoid eating:

> too much meat. i'll get mad food coma/nigger-itis.
> soda
> anything triple-deep-fried
> canned soup, chips, 'junk food'

yeah.

-andy

thanks for all the memories

: did you know his first time smoking was one year ago at your party?
: OMGZ. NO WAI.

yeah its true. funny how fast things can change in only a year. the way people talk about other people from blair, as if we were all part of the same large family and have all gone separate ways. and its interesting hearing about people and learning so many new things about them. and then judging them based on their decisions they made in college >:) (just kidding...). its hard to imagine not seeing some of them for a long long time, possibly forever.

upperclassmen tell me they stop going back home because fewer people are left there the older they get. that makes sense. who am i going to be talking to 5, 10 years from now?

-andy

now playing: fall out boy - gay is not a synonym for stupid


editted at 2:46

i just wasted an hour of my life.

things i've learned today:
80/transaction at western union
you need licence/passport to transfer wire anywhere in the world (45/transaction)