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
Monday, August 27, 2007
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
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
Friday, August 17, 2007
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).
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
Thursday, August 16, 2007
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
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
Monday, August 13, 2007
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
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
Friday, August 10, 2007
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
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
Thursday, August 9, 2007
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
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
Monday, August 6, 2007
(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
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
Friday, August 3, 2007
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.
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
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
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