Thursday, September 11, 2008

Ficb Welcome Night Video

Thanks to the team who helped make it. You guys are the best.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

USA Basketball

I'm not going to go into details. You all know what happened. All I'll say is whenever my mom says something like, "Kobe Bryant deh geh jahl hahn dah" (translation: Kobe's a mighty fine player), you know the guy transcends the game. Kobe transcends the game to the point where even a non like my mom knows just how damn good he really is. Kobe transcends the game to the point where I've resorted to using pathetic sentences like the previous. He's that damn good.

As far as the Olympics go, other than Phelps, Basketball, baseball and a few other incredibly defining moments that'll all go down, they were a disaster. More on this later, but for now I'll say the IOC needs to grow a backbone and Jacque Rogge needs to grow a pair.

Apologies in advance for the sophomoric language and vulgarity, but I've got jury duty this week and I'm running on 2 hours sleep.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Wednesday, August 13, 2008


In the midst of my toils writing my final papers, I thought I'd waste more time than I already have and update.

To me, happiness is...
...being unable to watch Nadal and Federer in the French Open final, only to find that it really wasn't worth watching.

...then watching Nadal beat Federer at Wimbledon and realizing it most definitely was worth watching.

...Yankee stadium with the siblings.

...New York with loved ones.

...being in awe for whatever reason. sister one-upping me at Harvard (also see: screaming at the top of my lungs as my sister walked up the podium only to find that she was the one person who didn't hear me)

...the best pizza I've ever eaten.

...Cal Football diehards (Rich belongs in this).

...GFC family growing up together.

...these punks.

...this punk.

...true friends (we actually hate each other, or so they say)

...George Clooney.

...ruining pictures (see right)

and, of course, being a punk while I still can.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008


People are always saying that hindsight is 20/20, but I disagree. I'd say most of the time, hindsight is clearer than 20/20. I mean how many times have you ever looked back on your life and said something along the lines of "Why didn't you just..." or "What the hell was that?". People love to rationalize and beg the question, but in reality, I think we just have a hard time realizing that we can't foresee the future. It really is that simple.

I guess this entry then is somewhat of a supplement to the last. What I regretted to mention about that quote is that Miles Davis wasn't in the middle of making some broad existential statement about life or the human condition, he was talking about music. And how appropriate that Miles Davis would say something so incredibly profound without ever realizing it.

God knows that I've improvised. And God sure as hell knows that I've made mistakes. And they've never been aberrations or anomalies. They've been, and always are, consistent and uniform in every sense the word.

Sometimes I like to trick myself into the delusion that I'm really trying my hardest to live according to Him. But this is inevitably followed by the violent realization that I'm a sinner. And by definition those two thoughts outline the most frustrating oxymoron that we as Christians are forced to live with. It's not a paradox no matter how much we try to twist it. It's nonsensical. That's the gospel. That's God. He defies logic.

I'm always reminded of Sisyphus when I dwell on the gospel. Sisyphus was limited to say the least. Condemned is a better word. He had every right to be frustrated/angry/suicidal even. Yet he was happy. He was content to repeat the same chore without end in sight. Fixity at it's finest.

We should be so lucky.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Miles and Miles to Go

"The brilliance comes in your mistakes- that's how you discover new things. And the only way to make mistakes is to stretch and take chances. If you play it safe, you'll never progress"
-Miles Davis to T.M. Stevens

This past year I read a 10 pound biography of Miles Davis after having opened the book at Moe's and coming to that quote. A few lines was all it took. Maybe I'm just a sucker for biographies and so one on Miles Davis proved irresistible to me. But sadly, I never came upon another quote that spoke to me quite like that one.

If those words tell me anything, they remind me how much of my life has been on the fly. Nothing speaks louder to me than my mistakes, of which are many. But what's so amazing about God is that regardless of my failures, I've always been taken care of and I've always learned from my failures. I'm a human testament to improvisation. And I think I've begun to realize that I always will be.

Grace is an amazing thing because whether you think you understand it or not, enlightenment simply makes you realize how far you are from seeing the light. It's a cyclical masochism if you will. I've learned so much this past year, only to find myself further and further from what I believe the truth should feel like. But things like this are never tangible are they? No, that'd be too easy.

But God is always good and will always be good. I haven't had a single reason to doubt my entire life. Why start now?

Sunday, June 1, 2008

The Real Deal


Someone once told me that Barack Obama would be the next Martin Luther King Jr. if elected. I remained skeptical because for the most part, all Obama's been to me is a talker, a potential con man, and a great politician, possibly the best ever, which turned me off from the start. But don't get me wrong, I like the guy. I like him a lot. And I'll continue to until he cracks, which I'm afraid to say, seems inevitable.

I think the reason so many people hate on Obama is that he's too legitimate. People criticize his rhetoric (it's too vague). They talk about his youth (it's too tainted). And as ridiculous as this sounds, they question his loyalties. Anything to drag this guy's reputation. All of which goes absolutely nowhere, because all it takes is one word from this guy to change your mind. In fact, he'll more than change your mind, he'll have you voting for him in a few months which to me is scary as hell. Who's Reverend Wright anyway?

All of this begs me to ask: How the hell is this guy still in this? And again, begs me to answer: because he can talk his way in and out of anything.

Now unless this guy is the greatest premeditator in the history of the world, there's no logical explanation for his being the clear-cut democratic nominee right now. But, funny thing, he is. How could someone named BARACK HUSSEIN OBAMA be America's next president? How could a guy who's openly admitted to smoking marijuana and sniffing coke, be America's next great "hope". Hope in quotations of course. All of that plus Reverend Wright (the black religious card) equals political suicide. He even calls it blow, just like the rest of us. Politicians shouldn't know that word, much less know what it is.

If anything, Obama's played the transparency card way too well. You could say he's blended just the right amount of honesty and political pretense to thrive. I bring up MLK because for the most part, it's clear to me that he was as close to 100% pretense and 0% honesty as you could get. It doesn't take any more than a few pages out of his autobiography to label it the most self-aggrandizing brick shithouse of an autobiography that you've ever read. Please excuse my language. You become numb to his rhetoric, his structure, his "hope". His deepest and darkest struggles are reduced to simply, "trying times". Trying times? Are you kidding me? Now I'm aware that part of that hate stems from my ultra-masochistic drama drive, but give me a break. Here's a guy who had affair after affair, most likely cheated his way through school and did God knows what else his entire life without even stopping to chuck his M.Div out the window of a moving car. There's no valor in that, much less honesty. But the most important thing never was his honesty, it was what he accomplished and in that regard, he warrants the aggrandizement. Because of that we still respect him. Maybe even more so than before the proverbial shit hit the fan.

Like the cliche reads: actions do speak louder than words, and if Obama can be half the action that he's bitten off with the same brand of seemingly "redacted" honesty, then I'm a fan. Until then, I'm just "half" waiting for the next Eliot Spitzer.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Christopher Walken

I started watching Saturday Night Live when I was about 6 years old. I still remember watching all the old greats doing their thing. I remember watching the Cowbell sketch the very first time it aired. I remember watching Chris Farley dance at Chippendales with Patrick Swayze. And I remember being blown away by the hilarity of the sketches whenever Christopher Walken hosted.

For those of you who don't know. Christopher Walken is awesome.

Here's my favorite.

Who ever knew creepy could be hilarious. He redefines the word. That, to me, is great comedy.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Time's 100 Most Influential People

Today I came home to find that my weekly Time magazine had come and featured on the cover were the 100 most influential people for 2008. Inside were 100 short profiles of innovators, actors, ambassadors and terrorists. As shallow as TIME can be at times, I appreciated the diligence in their selections. But that appreciation quickly faded when after reading, I realized just how ridiculously gushing some of the profiles were. Anytime you have anything written by guys like Donny Osmond and Andie Roddick, you have to expect your audience to come with reservations. Sorry TIME, but I don't order your magazine to hear rich celebrities tell me just how great their rich celebrity friends are. But don't get me wrong. There were some good aspects. I really liked that they asked Bishop Desmond Tutu to contribute and Ben Stiller's profile of Robert Downey Jr. was randomly really intriguing (and well-written might I add). But again, who knows how much of what was actually written made it through editing.

Going back to the most influential of 2008. What I took from skimming through that magazine (since for the most part, that's all that it allowed you to do) was the realization that it doesn't take much to be influential. Bunched in the same group of the "most influential" were humanitarians and terrorists sharing the same pages. And what I mean by "not taking a lot" is that if I were to leave the US, join some militant guerrilla terrorist unit in the middle of nowhere, and go about wreaking havoc on America all the while dropping my name in as many places as possible, I would have a great chance at cracking the top 100 without breaking a moral sweat. Strong moral conviction typically connotes some sort of good, but by definition, it can go both ways. Notoriety and influence are not one and the same. Let's not forget that.

Funny to realize I just rebuked myself through this rant.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Douche

There comes a time in every young man's life when he looks back on his past experiences and laughs at all of his stupid mistakes. For me, that time is now.

Exhibit A:
I know. That's all I have to say. I know. I'll just cop out and say I was going through a phase, a very incriminating phase. While scanning this picture, it took a total of 2 seconds to come up with a name before I settled on "Fatboy Bangs". My face looks like a damn tomato... with bad hair. My God.

Here are a few more for YOUR entertainment and MY embarrassment.
Look at the woman holding up the peace sign. That's my mom. It's as if she's perpetuating an ongoing joke on me. It's ironic that my eyes are closed isn't it? So oblivious, so stupid, so naive. No wonder I'm the only one that isn't smiling in this picture.

I'm sitting at my computer as a picture-perfect posterboy for a Bud Light commercial. You know those commercials where the guy keeps repeating "dude"? That's me right about now.

But that's not it. You see, most people have that one haircut that they regret for the rest of their lives. I have several.

That my friends is a bonafide mullet. I have nothing else to say. Except maybe that I was a mistake and my mom vowed to make me her very own personal inside joke.

Dancing Queen
As a young man, my mom knew I was a special child. I guess I just really loved dancing... and I guess the Pharaoh was the "it" dance back in the early 90's. As you can tell, my sister is the mature one out of the two of us.
Our relationship in a nutshell


Sexual Identity Crisis
Here's an interesting picture, with an even more interesting explanation. My family and I went to a resort with another family and as we were all preparing to go swimming, my mom started putting swim trunks on me. When I realized that I would have to enter a public domain with my nipples exposed, I refused to wear them. My mom tried desperately to save me the embarrassment of wearing a women's 1-piece without the proper pelvic structure (let's not get TOO graphic here), but I adamantly refused and ended up wearing identical swimsuits with my friend Sarah (bottom left). Why the hell did I choose the pink one?

Maybe I should have been beaten more as a child.

Saturday, March 1, 2008

It's Not About The Shoes

Maybe it's because I'm young, but I'm a sucker for sports related commercials. This is my new favorite:

FYI- That last clip of Carmelo dunking in high school was against Lebron James' team.

Friday, February 29, 2008

Laughing Just One More Time

I've always been one to laugh at things a little longer than anyone else. Actually, maybe not a little. A lot longer than anyone else. There's just something about good jokes or puns that make my day. If you've been around me long enough, you've probably, at one time or another, asked me why I was laughing. Sometimes I have to catch myself from laughing out loud during class or even church service. I like to laugh, what can I say.

So many times when I was little and my mom would be scolding me I'd have to hold in my laughter at something that happened a week before. Sometimes I'd just laugh at the variety of emotions her face would display as she was screaming at me. Eyes get wider, mouth opens wider, eyes shut, teeth clench, suppress laughter.

Recently people have been giving me crap about killing jokes. And I mean that in the uncultivated asian way. You know: "DUUUUDEE!!! You killed it man!!!!". This is usually followed by an equally idiotic sounding "It's over" or "Don't drag it on". We're not talking about a lynching here people. It's a joke. If you don't find it funny, don't laugh. Maybe you should think about what you sound like when you're saying these things. I like to bunch "You killed it" in the same family as "Fosho dawg" and "Jiyeah!!!". Say those things aloud and ask someone whether or not you sound like a moron. Chances are, they'll say you do.

So before you tell someone they "killed it" (quotations for emphasis), remember that jokes are meant to make people laugh and if one person laughs, then that's good enough. This includes the person telling the joke. Don't flatter yourself in thinking you're special. Chances are, that joke wasn't JUST for you. As far as I'm concerned, anyone else that laughs is just an added bonus. It's altruistic of me really.

I'm with Andy Kaufman on this one. I trusted you.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Finer Things...Not Really

Oscar from The Office once said that, "Besides having sex with men, the Finer Things Club is the gayest thing about me". In my opinion, society at large uses the word "gay" rather loosely. Example, a guy who engages in sexual intercourse with other men would, in most circles at least, be considered "gay". But likewise, a guy who enjoys attending ballets on a semi-regular basis would probably also be considered gay in most, but more exclusive circles. As a disclaimer, I want to say that I neither condone or reject homosexual behavior. In fact, what I have to say has nothing to do with homosexuality. Unless you look at the word in the same way that the word gay is being used nowadays. But that'd just be nitpicking.

Anyways, back to Oscar. The gayest thing about me? Aside from the fact that I rolled and "tussled" with members of the same sex in high school?

Korean drama ballads.

That's right, you read the above correctly. I like Korean ballads. You know, the ones with the Korean guy standing in the middle of a brightly lit stage with some form of dyed/highlighted hair holding a mic? No shame in saying it. Simply put, I like the way they sound. You know that song, "I Believe" from My Sassy Girl? Yeah, I like that one too. In fact, sometimes I listen to it on repeat for hours at a time. Ok, maybe not hours, but a few times at least.

I know, pretty gay huh? Now before I go on, let's get a few things straight:

1. I am NOT a hopeless romantic. God, no. I'd rather be branded "gay" in the frat-house humor sense than be labeled a hopeless romantic which is "gay" in a way that gets semi-serious and thus semi-homosexual in the having sex with men kind of way.

2. I listen to other kinds of music too. I like Shania Twain, Dashboard Confessional and Michael Bolton too.

So in closing, aside from going to cheemjeelbang with groups of 3 or more guys, listening to Korean ballads before I go to sleep is the gayest thing about me.

Don't act like you didn't like it.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Down to Earth Marketing

There's a theory that goes with marketing. If you show people Michael Jordan with Jordans on, they're going to want to buy Jordans because, at least subconsciously, in the dark recesses of their minds, they're thinking: "I can be like Mike". Going along with that, if you show people a video of Tiger driving 300 yards with a Nike driver, people are going to want to buy Nike clubs. You get the gist. It's not very hard to grasp.

Now, let's take a look at the devastating consequences of going against the grain. We'll start with something easier to swallow and work our way into the "nitty gritty" as Jack Black so eloquently called it. All taken from the horrendous American Apparel catalog. 

Here's our first example. Seems harmless enough right? Wrong. This guys looks like he straight up crawled out of a Friday night "Cops" marathon. That's right. Cops. Bad Boys, what you want, what you want. Cops. That empty stare is the type of stare that only middle aged men give children playing in a sandbox and I don't even want to know what his hands are doing in his pockets. If that shirt's going to make me look like a child molester, forget it. I'm not even going to comment on the purple pants he's wearing. And who the hell wears neon blue shirts anyway!??! What the FFFFFF?!?

Same story here. This picture looks like it was taken with my 2.0 megapixel phone camera. Give me a break, if you want me to buy your stuff, at least be classy about showing me the goods. This looks like something my dad would wear after yoga class. You know, those shirts from Korea that all ahjuhshees wear. Yeah, you know.

When I saw this picture, one thought came to my mind: "When's his probation?". I never believed that models had any talent whatsoever until I saw this picture. This guy's stare penetrates you literally and figuratively. No really, I feel violated. Get some damn professional models you idiots, not that guy in my English class who smells like the garlic pizza rotting in my kitchen.

Two reactions to this picture: 1. What the hell is my roommate's crotch doing on the American Apparel website? and 2. Note to self: the words "three pack" should never be put anywhere near the vicinity of a crotch (For obvious reasons). I mean give me a break. If you're going to try to sell me underwear, I better see David Beckham's crotch or "crotchal" region covered by it. Don't show me some guy desperately in need of a tanning bed with a groddy happy trail. If I wanted to see this, I could go to Justin's room and look at HIS crotch. In fact, I think he has this pair of underwear in yellow. 

Can you imagine if this philosophy were applied to sports marketing? John Daly in the new Nike Breathe Muscle shirt? Let's not go there. I understand people hate that Hollywood dictates how they should look and what's beautiful, but do you really want to see some morbidly obese guy with a hairy mole on his inner thigh advertising Speedos? I don't. 

Now, I'm not COMPLETELY against down-to-earth marketing. I think it could work. But American Apparel was way off the dot.