Random Happenings

New Blog

2012-01-16T12:31:00.001-08:00

Moved to:

http://sternerstuff.tumblr.com

So what are you doing these days Sam?

2011-11-11T11:16:00.000-08:00

"Bronx native worked first job at Brooks Brothers, left business school to design ties for Beau Brummel 1967. Launched Polo later that year with $50,000. Sold 28% of company to Goldman Sachs in 1994 for $138 million; took public 3 years later. Car collector partial to European makes: Bugatti, Bentley, Alfa Romeo, Ferrari, Porsche."

-Forbes on Ralph Lauren

Burnt Norton

2011-10-13T22:45:00.000-07:00

I

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.

-T.S. Eliot

(Blogspot fails at enjambment)

A Good Man Is Hard To Find

2011-09-19T21:29:00.001-07:00

Happy 84th Happi

Paul Newman and Katharine Ross

2011-09-18T21:01:00.001-07:00

Balls Out

2011-09-17T22:29:00.001-07:00

Plastic Jesus

2011-08-27T19:12:00.001-07:00

Tammi Terrell

2011-08-25T22:46:00.000-07:00

"Once she was paired with Gaye in 1967, her stardom grew, but on October 14 of that year she collapsed on stage into Gaye's arms during a performance. She was soon thereafter diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor which eventually led to her death six weeks before her 25th birthday."

Wiki writers can be pretty unintentionally tragic.

Fox News!!!

2011-08-19T21:30:00.001-07:00

Fox News is so garbage, it's not even garbage anymore. It's the garbage water that accumulates at the bottom of your trash can when you take the trash out. It's so annoying that you don't even bother to clean it up because you would just rather leave it to itself and hope it goes away than deal with it again. Honestly, do these people ever step back and say, "My God, this is utter s***!"? Is it sad that that would even be a revelation at this point?

There are so many things wrong with this video. Here are a few of my favorite moments of idiocy:

0:00- Yes, they manage to botch the hike. No, not botch the hand-off, botch the hike. "HEY Y'ALL!". I'm thinking two things at this point:

1. You're from the South and you're probably proud of it.

2. You're hoping those tuning in identify with you because they probably have a Confederate flag hanging from their living room wall right above the fireplace.

0:14- This guy learned enunciation from Barney. "PAULA DEEN!" Uhhhh, I'm guessing you're a strong right lean? It's not what you say, it's how you say it. Example: "you sound like a dumbass" as opposed to "you sound like a dumb ass". Both of which apply.

0:15- One second. That's the fastest pick six from a botched hike you'll ever see. It's impressive almost. I'm guessing this guy was never hooked on phonics as a child. So unfortunate. This is really sad. I had to transcribe it, I just had to:

"She reveals in an unholy...connections with e...she says she uhh has unholy connections. She REVELS in unholy connections rather with evil corporations..."

Have you ever used one of those reading machines that teach kids how to speed read? The ones that cover up the lines as you go down the page so you have to read faster to keep up until there comes a point where you know you're screwed and just sort of give up? This guy reaches that moment at "she says he...uhhh". You just know he's looking at that screen and watching those words get highlighted and thinking "OH CRAP, THOSE WORDS ARE GOING TO DISAPPEAR SOON!!! Uhhhh..she says he...uhhhh". Listening to this guy squirm is pure comedy. He just went from revealing the Anti-Christ to crapping his pants...while revealing the Anti-Christ.

Paula Deen is just too easy so I'll just stick with the idiots on the couch. But I do love how she just explodes with that Southern hospitality as she says "peed in his bowl of cereal". Not a very pleasant image. She's got Georgia on her mind.

3:30- Watch the guy on the left. There's a moment where he cocks his head in anticipation. This group's got such great chemistry.

"You cook for people who are...uh...affordable"

And there it is.

There are very few times when I watch a professional in action and say, "Wow, they are so good at their job". Even fewer are the occasions where I watch a professional in action and say, " Wow, I could do a better job than this guy". Stumbling on this video was a treat.

Fox News. It's like watching Michael Scott give you the news.

McCarthy

2011-08-18T23:04:00.003-07:00

"How does the never to be differ from what never was?"

-Cormac McCarthy (The Road)

Seems like I've been asking myself this question rather frequently as of late. When I first read that passage, it took me a while to understand it. That can happen when you're reading a post-apocalyptic father-son survival story. I remember when I was a kid my mom used to tell me that if I didn't behave she would send me off to military school. I always took her seriously. And when she threw a full size suitcase at me and told me to pack my things, I really took her seriously.

Bourdain

2011-08-17T23:15:00.000-07:00

I took it in my hand, tilted the shell back into my mouth as instructed by the now beaming Monsieur Saint-Jour, and with one bite and a slurp, wolfed it down. It tasted of seawater...of brine and flesh...and somehow...of the future.

Everything was different now. Everything.

I'd not only survived - I'd enjoyed.

This I knew, was the magic I had until now been only dimly and spitefully aware of. I was hooked. My parents' shudders, my little brother's expression of unrestrained revulsion and amazement only reinforced the sense that I had, somehow, become a man. I had had an adventure, tasted forbidden fruit, and everything that followed in my life - the food, the long and often stupid and self-destructive chase for the next thing, whether it was drugs or sex or some other new sensation - would all stem from this moment.

I'd learned something. Viscerally, instinctively, spiritually even in some small, precursive way, sexually - and there was no turning back. The genie was out of the bottle. My life as a cook, and as a chef, had begun.

Food had power.

Cinema's Greatest Dad

2011-06-20T22:33:00.001-07:00

via EverydayIShow

All you Joann

My Proust Questionnaire (Taken From My Sister)

2011-06-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

My Proust Questionnaire

What is your idea of happiness?

Do you know that feeling you get when you're in a given moment of time and you know that you'll remember that moment for the rest of your life? When that is shared with the ones you love, that is the purest form of happiness I have ever and no doubt will ever experience

The qualities you most like in a man?
Courage. When someone is willing to hold true to what he believes in the face of the most casual everyday interactions and again in the face of the most difficult adversity he has ever faced, that is rare and to be lauded

The qualities you most like in a woman?
The ability to suffer well even when that suffering crushes all of your hopes and dreams. Then to be able to turn to those you know or don't know and give them a smile. My mom is the most courageous well-suffering woman I will ever know

What do you most value in your friends?
The ability to dole out tough love. Sadly, I have very few of these and for those I do have, I am eternally grateful.

Your most marked characteristic?
My atrociously corny sense of humor

What is your principle defect?
My atrociously corny sense of humor

What is your favorite occupation?
One that makes getting out of bed on a Monday easy

What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?
To see the world lose sight of their passions for the sake of doing what is conventional

What would you like to be?
A writer

In what country would you like to live?
Italy

What is your favorite color?
Navy

What are your favorite flowers?

Cherry blossoms

What is your favorite bird?

Eagle

Who are your favorite prose writers?
Philip Roth, Cormac McCarthy, Richard Yates

Who are your favorite poets?

William Shakespeare, T.S. Eliot, Robert Frost (in that order)

Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?

Hal (Henry IV), Will Hunting, Atticus Finch

Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
Scout, Monica Vitti in just about any of her movies, Vesper Lynd

Who are your favorite composers?
Chopin (Pollini), Grieg, Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck

Who are your favorite painters?
Caravaggio, Jackson Pollock, Piet Mondrian

Who are your heroes in real life?
My mom, Tim Keller, Rahm Emanuel

Who are your favorite heroes/heroines of history?
Lincoln, Paul Newman, Clinton

What are your favorite names?
John, James, Paul

What is it you most dislike?
People who are knowingly inconsiderate

What historical figures do you most despise?
Hitler?

What event in military history do you most admire?
Cuban Missile Crisis

What reform do you most admire?
14th Amendment

What natural gift would you most like to possess?
Photographic memory

How would you like to die?
Peacefully in my sleep at a time when all of my loved ones would be satisfied with the length and quality of the life that I lived

What is your present state of mind?
Unceasingly ambivalent

What fault do you indulge the most?
My penchant for sweets and desserts

What is your motto?
Sadly, as of now:

"All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one's heart have a common provenance in pain"

-Cormac McCarthy

The Horror

2011-05-04T10:27:00.000-07:00

I think I've had ample time to digest reaction to the death of perhaps the most hated man in the world (at least to the so-called 'Free World').

Let me start by saying it's incredible what social media has been able to accomplish in just the last few years. People need look no further than their Facebook News Feed to get the latest scoop on just about anything. But it also leaves very little room for error in formulating mainstream friendly opinions (see Rashard Mendenhall). Kind of sad to say, but the culmination of the ever present news feed is beginning to define what is acceptable or unacceptable to the not so silent majority. Facebook is becoming everyone's most convenient Op-ed column.

With that said, am I the only one that is a little disturbed by all of the so-called pent-up nationalism being displayed on Facebook and Twitter statuses the past few days?

Let me preface what I'm about to say by telling you I didn't know any of the 3,000 victims that lost their lives as a result of the 9/11 attacks. I don't even know anyone connected to them. And to be completely honest, even I felt a little relief to hear that Osama was no longer with us. In fact, I even posted a status update on how good Obama's poker face was leading up to the act (Did you see that speech at the Correspondents' dinner?). But it's still a little disconcerting that people are reacting to Osama's killing as if the Lakers just won the championship.

Was Osama the unmistakable face of terrorism for the past decade? Yes. Was he responsible for killing thousands and thousands of people over that decade? Yes. Was he intent on killing thousands, maybe millions more over the course of the next decade with both the resources and brains to do so? Yes.

Everything should make logical sense, but to me it doesn't. I'm bothered by the reaction because it tells me that at some point, celebrating this man's or, for that matter, any man's killing, is acceptable and encouraged. That at some point, hearing that someone got shot through the eye and dumped in the ocean, then rejoicing is an encouraged and a perfectly normal reaction. But if that's the case, where exactly do you draw the line?

If you watched Obama's announcement speech, you were probably fighting the urge to go light some fireworks and go trade in your Toyota for American made. "Today’s achievement is a testament to the greatness of our country and the determination of the American people" he said. And of course we of all people are on the side of the Americans. We're Americans damnit! Let's forget all the partisan arguing that nearly shut the government down, all of the side-taking and deal-making and embrace our roles as Americans because that's what we all are. Now I see where all this raw nationalism came from.

No one man should have all that power (yes, I just did).

Now don't get me wrong. I do feel that the world is a safer place without Osama. And I agree that he left very little room for any other scenario. I'm reacting to what I observed after the fact. One line in Obama's speech really stuck out to me. When Obama proudly declared "Americans understand the cost of war", I had to laugh. Anyone who has ever argued or debated, much less written a coherent opinionated thought could see what he was trying to do. I couldn't contain myself because no man, woman or child that sits at home watching these things occur on a TV screen could possibly understand the costs of war, much less how much a single human life is worth.

No, we're not that delusional. We just know how much it's depreciated.

I will write in this more often

2011-04-18T23:38:00.000-07:00

I will write in this more often

I will write in this more often...

Revolutionary Road

2011-03-17T00:03:00.001-07:00

'Our ability to measure and apportion time affords an almost endless source of comfort.

"Synchronize watches at oh six hundred," says the infantry captain, and each of his huddles lieutenants finds a respite from fear in the act of bringing two tiny pointers into jeweled alignment while tons of heavy artillery go fluttering overhead: the prosaic, civilian-looking dial of the watch has restored, however briefly, an illusion of personal control. Good, it counsels, looking tidily up from the hairs and veins of each terribly vulnerable wrist; fine: so far, everything's happening on time.

"I'm afraid I"m booked solid through the end of the month," says the executive, voluptuously nestling the phone at his cheek as he thumbs the leaves of his appointment calendar, and his mouth and eyes at that moment betray a sense of deep security. The crisp, plentiful, day-sized pages before him prove that nothing unforeseen, no calamity of chance or fate can overtake him between now and the end of the month. Ruin and pestilence have been held at bay, and death itself will have to wait; he is booked solid.

"Oh let me see now," says the ancient man, tilting his withered head to wince and blink at the sun in bewildered reminiscence, "my first wife passed away in the spring of--" and for a moment he is touched with terror. The spring of what? Past? Future? What is any spring but a mindless rearrangement of cells in the crust of the spinning earth as it floats in endless circuit of its sun? What is the sun itself but one of a billion insensible stars forever going nowhere into nothingness? Infinity! But soon the merciful valves and switches of his brain begin to do their tired work, and "The spring of Nineteen-Ought-Six," he is able to say. "Or no, wait--" and his blood runs cold again as the galaxies revolve. "Wait! Nineteen-Ought--Four." now he is sure of it, and a restorative flood of well-being brings his hand involuntarily up to slap his thigh in satisfaction. He may have forgotten the shape of his first wife's smile and the sound of her voice in tears, but by imposing a set of numerals on her death he has imposed coherence on his own life, and on life itself. Now all the other years can fall obediently into place, each with its orderly contribution to the whole. Nineteen-Ten, Nineteen-Twenty--Why of course he remembers!--Nineteen-Thirty, Nineteen-Forty, right on up to the well-deserved peace of his present and on into the gentle promise of his future. The earth can safely resume its benevolent stillness-- Smell that new grass! -- and it's the same grand old sun that has hung there smiling on him all these years. "yes sir," he can say with authority, "Nineteen-Ought-Four," and the stars tonight will please him as tokens of his ultimate heavenly rest. He has brought order out of chaos.'

-Richard Yates

This just may be the most beautifully written passage I've ever read.

Random Observations...

2011-03-05T21:09:00.000-08:00

- Mike Tyson's new reality show is showing on Animal Planet

- The word 'Grateful' begs the question: to whom?

- I'm beginning to realize that there's no way around hypocrisy. It's like God's sadistic little joke. We like to believe that because someone is one way in one aspect of their life, every aspect of their person follows suit, but that's just not true. A few examples:

1. Tiger Woods will potentially go down as the greatest golfer in history, most known for his tireless work ethic. Because of this, people assumed his dedication to his family was much the same. Unless you've been hiding in a closet for the past year, you know how the rest goes.

2. Kennedy was a great president (I think we've reached that point in retrospect when it's safe to say so). He was also a blatant womanizer.

3. MLK (see above)

All this to say: people compartmentalize. No one's perfect. A discovery it took me 23 years to figure out. Damn that fanboy inside of me.

- Rob Reiner has an incredibly diverse resume as a director. The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally, A Few Good Men and This is Spinal Tap were all directed by the same guy.

- John's girlfriend cooked us dinner one night. Realization: I need a girlfriend.

Smile

2011-02-28T22:21:00.000-08:00

2011-01-04T15:08:00.000-08:00

Does anyone remember that episode of Family Guy where the family's sitting in the living room and Louis is laid out as a rug while Stewie says, "Oh, the Phillies won"? I swear they took that idea from this ad.

http://owni.eu/2010/11/08/top-48-ads-that-would-never-be-allowed-today/

Resolutions

2011-01-01T17:59:00.000-08:00

1. Take comfort in the knowledge that apart from Him, nothing is possible, but with Him, anything is possible.

Phil e-mailed me over a blog post a while back that argued that a sensitivity to the voice of God was contingent upon the degree to which you feel He is absolutely vital to life in prayer and reading of His word. I need to get to this place.

I remember Jongmin once telling our church thatin response to a Muslim woman's questioning how many times he prays (Muslims pray a minimum of 5 times a day), he replied, "I pray without ceasing". This was then followed by laughter from the congregation, but I need to realize that praying without ceasing doesn't necessarily mean praying constantly every second of the day, but being in the presence of God at all times.

2. Be correctable and self-aware

Since when did being stubborn become a good thing. People admit to being stubborn as if it's some kind of merit badge that they can pull out whenever they feel is necessary. "I know I should, but I'm stubborn". "I know, but I'm stubborn". I'm not sure these people realize that inherent within those statements is the notion that they think they know better than anyone else what is best for them. "Being stubborn" just gives them an excuse to ignore any sort of criticism or correction. This my friends, is incredibly stupid. Be self-aware, know when correction is necessary and act accordingly. If you're anything like me, this is most of the time.

3. Take more risks knowing that this could potentially be the only time in my life that I can absorb the losses.

Self explanatory

Thank You Lord

2010-12-11T15:56:00.001-08:00

Jamie Foxx

2010-12-11T00:43:00.001-08:00

Jamie Foxx is incredible. Props to Steve.

By The Way...

2010-12-09T22:27:00.000-08:00

These are really cool

Vincent Cassel

2010-12-09T22:12:00.000-08:00

This

almost makes me believe he did this

Ocean's Twelve - Laser Dance Capoeira (Oceans 12) - The most amazing home videos are here

(sorry for the dubbing)

I love the Gene Kelly pants

I Like Her Style

2010-12-09T21:59:00.000-08:00

www.unabashedlyprep.com

Cheap Airfare

2010-12-07T20:42:00.000-08:00

Rafa flies economy. The legend lives on.

Catch Me If You Can

2010-12-06T22:28:00.000-08:00

Am I the only one that's synonymously associated Christmas music with depression? Please comment if there's anyone else out there.

I've always felt that Catch Me If You Can was a really underrated movie. It was what a lot of critics call a "nice" movie that's worth the ticket price, but would never shake that reputation (I mean, how could you right? It's Tom Hanks) and that may be true, but in my book, there haven't been very many entertaining movies that have done the whole coming of age story with a human condition plot as well as Catch Me If You Can. I thought Leo was perfectly cast.

Where am I going with this? I'm going to embed this clip with the disclaimer that you really can't understand how incredibly sad this scene is without having watched the entire movie leading up to this.

I think my Christmas music association has something to do with my having watched The Godfather at a very early age and never forgetting the image of Luca Brasi putting on his bulletproof vest and load his gun to 'White Christmas'. I know. Parents pay attention to movie ratings. Rated R means Rated R.

Maybe I have mommy/daddy issues, but this scene always cuts to the core of me (Ron Burgundy reference--yes I still have a little college in me). How sad is it that young Frank's literally begging Carl to get him in the car?

Merry Christmas to you too.

Spoiled Brat

2010-11-29T23:12:00.000-08:00

I thought about naming this post Spoiled Brats, but the only reason I would have done that was in a desperate attempt to deflect some of the blame to the larger community of those reading/working/being anything close to remotely human. But for the most part, these are just my thoughts and I'm not in any position to drag anyone else down with me so here's my dose of reality potion.

It's so strange, for the past few weeks I've been asking myself, "What if you had lived in another time?" Greed and selfish ambition were always there, I'm not about to convince myself otherwise, but let's say I had grown up under different circumstances-- the kind of circumstances that we've seen throughout history; microcosms that the historians love to cite, referencing a time that was purer and full of the morality that's lacking today.

We've all read/seen/heard of Tom Brokaw's 'The Greatest Generation'. An entire 300 page obituary of the American golden age, full of countless examples of those that endured, courage under fire and all that good stuff. Forgive my sarcasm, it seeps through uncontrollably.

But what if corporate success, a home in the suburbs and a $60,000 car were luxuries that only served to get me slapped. What if the only formal education I was allotted was working a steam press or tightening gears in an assembly line. All of this until I was ripe and ready for absolutely nothing except for more of the same. And to think this was adolescence for the longest time for so many, if you could even call it that.

It's ironic how I catch myself calling work a 'grind' without once stopping to think how that association stuck.

Spoiled brat. I call myself that because there are and have been people with far less to hope for with much harder jobs paired with nothing to look forward to other than more of the same that still took joy in their work; people that were only surprised by how old they were because they looked in the mirror and looked at least 10 years older than they actually were. Surprised because they felt so much older and not younger than the years told them they were.

People keep saying that it's all relative, which is fine, but regardless, it doesn't make it any easier to swallow the fact that I'm being put to shame.

Watch

2010-11-28T17:38:00.000-08:00

As soon as I can.

Strange

2010-11-11T22:43:00.001-08:00

2010-11-07T21:17:00.000-08:00

I'm not quite sure as to why (I'll dissect this later), but this ad really works:

Sorry about the poor quality, I tried looking for a better one, but hey, this is just a blog. This whole campaign has a very autumn in New York type of feel to it. I like the vintage bike (almost guaranteed that it's a single gear). It just works. Life At Work, how clever.

Been a while

2010-10-24T00:46:00.000-07:00

"Every man had to test himself, and if he was courageous and lucky he found maturity. That was all the reward you could ask for, or were entitled to: growing up.

- Ward Just, The Translator (1991)

When I think about all of the age-old Asian-American, or for that matter, Korean-American mantras of the Issei (not sure if I'm allowed to use a cross-cultural reference in reference to a separate and completely unrelated cross-cultural reference) aka our parents, the American Dream obviously comes to mind, but the American Dream of our parents was somewhat different than the one that we learn about in history and sociology textbooks. The comparison is incomplete and imperfect, but when I put myself in my parents' shoes when they first decided to leave Korea and come to America in hopes of a nice car, mansion and maybe more important than any of that, a reputation back home that they would never get to enjoy, something doesn't really make sense.

When we were in high school/middle school/or maybe as far back as preschool for the really unfortunate, our parents always told us how much they had sacrificed for us in coming to this country without money, friends or language and went on and on about how it was our obligation to repay them through studying hard, earning a decent living and taking care of them so they could finally be comfortable. I'm almost 100% positive I'm not the only one in this and if you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, please just read this post as a Korean-American sociological/cultural case study.

But one thing that my parents at least regretted to mention is that they had dreams of their own that were either crushed, thrown aside to be picked up in daydreams or arrested for their kids to carry through at some point later on. Some were successful, most weren't. I'm sure most of us have had this point communicated to us by our parents in subtle forms that we were too young and stupid to understand. Now in retrospect, I realize that these subversive pressures weren't so much for betterment as much as they were just the torch of their dreams passed on to their children regardless of whether they were forced or willing.

And please don't take this as some bitter kid (not sure if I can still call myself a kid at 23) ranting about how his parents put pressure on him to bring home a report card free of minus blemishes and tardies. What I'm getting at is actually closer to the opposite. Just bear with me.

My point is that at some point, there was proverbial waking up. Or if you're a pessimist an "Oh (enter preferred interjection here)" moment. There was a moment wherein our parents realized that this American Dream that they had twisted, filled in, defaulted to be perfectly their own wouldn't ever come true. In fact, most probably realized that they would be working by the sweat of their brow and the tired bones in their fingers for the remainder of their productive years. Here's where the sacrifice part comes in.

I remember back when I was in college, I was having dinner with a good friend of mine at Cheeseboard when this lady began talking to us out of nowhere. Aside from the strange incense smell emanating from her clothes and the fact that she claimed that Biography of A Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda was the greatest work of literature to have ever been written, she was a nice lady. But one thing that she said really irked me, so much so that it still bugs me to this day. After the general awkwardness of letting her know that my friend and I were not boyfriend and girlfriend, she told us that we shouldn't be pursuing law, engineering, business like all of the rest of the asian mainstream (her words, not mine), but that we should go into fields where we could be the proverbial sacrificial lamb (see above) for the future. What I thought she was hinting at was that we had to die to ourselves so that we could aspire to be unsuccessful only to realize that we had to defer to the next generation.

That's exactly what our parents had to do. They didn't know the language, they didn't know the customs (if you're a complete idiot and this is completely lost on you, wikipedia L.A. Riots) and most of all, they didn't have the opportunities that we have today. And all of this is so painfully true.

What that lady told me over dinner that cold night in Berkeley killed me inside because it was so evident, so prevalent in my own life. I saw my parents and I hated that they had to die to their own dreams only to see someone live vicariously through everything that was provided by their hard work and anguish. What is love? That's a question that's been asked of me countless times over the past year. All I can do is point to Christ, but I'm beginning to see that the love of our parents had/has so much more depth than we thought we realized.

Is it wrong to have selfish desires? At this point in my life, I could care less. It doesn't make what our parents had to go through any less tragic. They're the tragic heroes of our short and very hopeful lives. It almost hurts me to say that, only because I can't imagine what I would feel having to do that.

I guess there's really no point to this post other than to get that off of my chest. Sorry if it sounded depressing, there are just a lot of things happening right now and please don't take that as anything other than what it means.

Revelation Song

2010-02-20T11:50:00.001-08:00

Can't get enough of this song after hearing it at the Driscoll Conference.

Creature of Habit

2010-02-17T21:51:00.000-08:00

I've come to the realization that I hate change. A few thoughts:

1. I've been listening to The Herd with Colin Cowherd for 10 years now. Started my freshman year in high school. The reason: he's just smarter than all the other idiots on ESPN and pretty witty too.

2. During my last 4 months in Berkeley, I had the hummus sandwich with lentil soup at Smart Alec's every day for lunch without fail. The reason: tasted good.

3. I've driven the same car for 6 years, going on 7 and I refuse to get another one until I absolutely have to. The reason: I really don't know. But sometimes I find myself giving my car a pat on the dashboard for all the faithful years of service...even when I'm alone.

Happy belated Valentine's Day

Christmas Time

2009-12-13T05:22:00.000-08:00

I was reading over my previous posts on this blog and stumbled upon this one (written, but never published) for December 2, 2007:

"Every year I look forward to the Holiday Season because it's the one time of year that I get to spend with my loved ones without fail. I've missed birthdays, graduations, and so many other occasions from having to live so far from home. But Christmas time is always spent with friends and family. And like clockwork, every year there always seems to be one defining moment leading up to Christmas that truly ushers it in for me. Sometimes it's a movie I watch, a conversation I have, or even an old friend I just so happen to run into. This year it was a song. On one of our random Awana trips to Starbucks, I was lounging with Brian while waiting for everyone to get their drinks, or finish their chicken legs (long story) when "Christmas Time is Here" by Vince Guaraldi came on. Brian and I just sat there for a few minutes listening till the song ended and we all got up to leave. On my way out, two thoughts came to my mind: The first was just how much I enjoyed sitting there enjoying the music for no reason at all. I sat there never wanting to leave and I couldn't even explain why (how often do we really ever just sit and listen to music nowadays?) The second was a reminder of how I take for granted the great friends and people I've met throughout my life. Talking to Brian while sitting there just reminded me how precious friendships are. For all I know, a year from now, Brian could be hundreds of miles away, our time together reduced to monthly phone calls or bi-yearly visits. This Christmas season, I'm thankful for loved ones. Thank God. Merry Christmas"

If I remember correctly, this was the semester after Brian spent a year in Indonesia. For all I knew he could have gone back for who knows how long.

So this year, thank God for friends.

I asked the Lord...

2009-10-27T09:25:00.000-07:00

I asked the Lord that I might grow

In faith, and love, and every grace;

Might more of His salvation know,

And seek, more earnestly, His face.

’Twas He who taught me thus to pray,

And He, I trust, has answered prayer!

But it has been in such a way,

As almost drove me to despair.

I hoped that in some favored hour,

At once He’d answer my request;

And by His love’s constraining pow’r,

Subdue my sins, and give me rest.

Instead of this, He made me feel

The hidden evils of my heart;

And let the angry pow’rs of hell

Assault my soul in every part.

Yea more, with His own hand He seemed

Intent to aggravate my woe;

Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,

Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.

Lord, why is this, I trembling cried,

Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?

“’Tis in this way, the Lord replied,

I answer prayer for grace and faith.

These inward trials I employ,

From self, and pride, to set thee free;

And break thy schemes of earthly joy,

That thou may’st find thy all in Me.”

This is quickly becoming my favorite hymn. It's scary to think how many times I've prayed the beginning prayer in however many words. "I asked the Lord that I might grow in faith, and love, and every grace; might more of His salvation know, and seek, more earnestly, His face." Even this trite, readymade prayer holds such power. God answers prayer. Maybe not how you intended Him to. But he answers. We are, after all, speaking to the creator of the universe.

One is the loneliest number (but not really)

2009-10-22T20:46:00.000-07:00

I think I've been getting a little too comfortable by myself. You know you reach this point when you start wondering whether hell really is other people. It's easy to imagine when you reach the point where the smallest things set you off (at least on the inside). Like when someone's laugh is a tiny pitch too high for your liking. Or when people just so happen to press every single floor before your own when they get into the elevator. Or when someone cuts you off on the road and you find yourself repeating that God's grace is sufficient for you to avoid an inevitably disastrous retaliation. Ok, maybe it's not that bad, but in short, I need to force myself to see people. Other than my boss, that is. 3 reasons why.

1. I'm forgetting how to communicate with other homo sapiens.

The other day, I was talking to one of the parking guys for my building and when he asked me how my boss was doing, I couldn't quite make out what he had asked me so I asked for clarification, but instead of saying "Excuse me?" or "I'm sorry?", I uttered some incoherence that can only described as something in between animal yelp and Cro-magnon man. It was literally:

Me: Hahaha too much work sometimes.

Parking guy: [smiling in agreement before asking] How's An?

Me: Huhhl?

I think he just stood there for a few seconds before repeating to me what he'd just said very slowly, sounding out every syllable of the simple two syllable question, like you would to an infant.

2. Nothing I see in the cave that I inhabit called the office holds any bearing on reality.

A few weeks ago I was introduced to the phrase "ftw". I then proceeded to type www.google.com in my address bar before typing "ftw" in the search bar. Google for the win.

3. I have no idea what's going on.

Last week my boss found out it was Columbus Day at 10 in the morning on the day of.

So did I. In fact, I had to google "federal holidays" to figure out when I wouldn't have to come in to work again.

I think for the last few weeks, it's been ok since I have my friends the book, the TV and exercise to keep me company. But I think I'm realizing now that I need to actually make an effort to see other people. This is something I've never had to do before. Strange.

*on an unrelated note, Redeemer.com just posted 150 Tim Keller sermons online for free. Looks like 150 more commutes are taken care of for me. Thanks John for the heads up.

Glorious (sorry long entry)

2009-10-18T00:18:00.000-07:00

I absolutely relish playing the part of the obnoxious opposing fan. I'm not ashamed to say it's a sort of elementary type of pleasure. Like the kind Nelson from the Simpsons gets whenever he says "HA HA!" (Someone needs to invent a legitimate way of expressing stresses for the English language). If you don't know who Nelson is, it's this kid:

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. When I think about who I become when my team is thoroughly thrashing another team that I have a deep hatred for, I see this kid. My inner Nelson comes out. And anyone who's ever seen me at a Cal football game can attest to this (Joann, why are you strangely the first person to come to mind?). When I see this picture, I think of all the times I've run over to a losing team/fan and said something that runs along the lines of "HA HA!" while feeling only a subconscious underdeveloped awareness of how annoying I really am to them.

I'm proud of my Cal Bears. Despite two straight Pac-10 losses in their only games against really good teams. I'm proud of them. They played great today. A few mistakes here and there, but I'm not about to get nitpicky with a team that averaged 3 points a game for the past two. Which brings me back to my original motive for writing this entry.

As you can probably deduce from the above title, I decided to name this entry "Glorious". You see my friends, I reserve this word for days like this. If Cal football would ever happen to knock off USC at the Coliseum (or even at home for that matter), I would consider that glorious. Or if Cal were ever to win the Rose Bowl or win the National Championship, that would be glorious. Oh and every so often, I might use it in a praise song, but that's beside the point.

The point is, today's win was glorious. Why you ask? Why does a Pac-10 win against a 3-3 (0-3 in Pac-10 play--my inner Nelson urged me to include that little snippet) UCLA team gain the title of "glorious"? Because Tedford hadn't won a single game in LA during his Cal tenure. Because for the past 6 years, we've shot ourselves in the foot whenever we came to the Rose Bowl. Because while walking through the golf course toward the Rose Bowl, I felt the giddiness of a superficial 15-year old prepubescent girl wondering whether she'd be prettier than all the other girls at her high school.

Let's just say UCLA ended up being the DUFF (Designated Ugly Fat Friend) and we were the pretty girls around her. UCLA made us look good. REAL GOOD. Same goes for the fans. Now I'm all for verbal jousting amongst fans. I think it's part of what make sports so fun to watch. But honestly, if my team gets dominated like it did last week against USC, I shut my mouth and take whatever they give me. If you're going to identify yourself with a team, you better be able to lose graciously WITH them. Now as I've mentioned, I love being the loud-mouth trash talker to fans of the opposing team. Before I continue with some of the best quotes of the day, I'll only prime you by telling you that we won 45-26, and let's be honest UCLA fans, it wasn't nearly as close as even that score may seem.

1. "UCLA...SUCKS!"
That pause after UCLA is crucial. Why? Because you raise your fist in the air and shout "UCLA!!!" as if you're a lowly Bruin fan in order to bait the appropriate response, which is some form of acknowledgment that we belong to the same clan (usually a fist pump and a "YEAH!!!") But little do they know that that "SUCKS!!!" is waiting for them like a fist to the back of the head. BAM!!!! YOU JUST PARTICIPATED IN TRASHING YOUR OWN TEAM!!!! HA HA!!!

2. "Bruins!!! (as a sign of camaraderie), ALL IS NOT LOST!!!...YOU NEVER HAD ANYTHING TO BEGIN WITH!!!
Once again, that pause after "LOST!!!" is absolutely crucial. Why? Because you give them a glimmer of hope for some sort of comfort or consolation after losing (but only for about a second) before slapping them upside the head with the insult that their team had no business hoping for any sort of prize short of a consolation. Oh wait a minute, we don't even give them that. Once again, my inner Nelson. "HA HA!!!"

Now before I move on to my last quote, I'd just like to mention that every so often, a stroke of brilliance comes over me that always leaves me stunned and wondering, "GREAT ODIN'S RAVEN!!!, HOW IN THE WORLD WAS I SO INCREDIBLY...BRILLIANT?!!" (in Ron Burgundy-esque parody). This last quote was produced by one of these moments.

3. Now continuing with the theme of Will Ferrell, imagine me with this look on my face:

What does this face tell you? That's a look of genuine, unmitigated concern. This is the look of a man who has something very important to say and whether or not you believe me, you better listen up because I'm only concerned with your well-being.

Now imagine me running over to the UCLA section with this look on my face after a pick-6 late in the fourth quarter that stuck a dagger through their hearts and shook it all around, tearing apart every single chamber wall of their hearts leaving only a sad, indistinguishable, mutilated pile of human tissue.

Now imagine me shouting "GUYS!!!...GUYS!!!...GUYS!!!" with the above look on my face (Go ahead, scroll up to refresh your memory).

Now imagine me shouting "IT'S OK TO LEAVE NOW!!!...I'M PRETTY SURE!!! IT'S OK TO LEAVE!!! YOU GUYS CAN GO!!!"

Now imagine me shouting "WAIT!!! GUYS!!! WAIT!!!"

before shouting "NEVER MIND!!! IT'S OK TO LEAVE!!! YOU GUYS CAN LEAVE!!!"

I know. I know. My hatred runs deep. But damn it, hatred brings about such great comedy. Now I have one more thing to say before I let you guys go. As I mentioned before, if I'm ever on the losing side of a thrashing like this one, I'll shut up and take what the fans give me. It's common sense really, I mean, what can you really say, right? Your team just lost.

I guess someone in LA didn't get that memo.

Now just like ESPN, I've given you my Top 10, or Top 3 for that matter. Now I give you my 2 worst of the day. As I'm walking out of the Rose Bowl through the tunnel shouting "BACK TO THE BOTTOM BRUINS!!! BACK TO THE BOTTOM!!!" and "I GUESS IT'S NOT THE COACHING HUH?!!!", I hear a sniveling UCLA fan (think Golem from Lord of the Rings) attempt to shout out box scores from the past two weeks in his Peewee herman-like, ring-tone voice.

1. Verbatim, he shouts, "42-0!!! 47-0!!!"
First of all, if you're going to call out box scores, at least get them right. In the words of Jim Calhoun, "GET SOME FACTS AND COME BACK AND SEE ME". I'll reserve my second point for number two since it's overarching.

2. "Well, you guys are like 1-6 in LA"
Do you remember Clueless? You know that movie starring Alicia Silverstone and two other girls that no one knows what happened to? Well, think Clueless when you pronounce that "like" in the above phrase. It was literally just like that. Straight up valley ditz status. Only, it came from a fat, middle-aged, hispanic guy with a full-grown beard. My response to that was: "what does that have anything to do with the fact that you lost today?". Honestly (this is where I address Smigel from Lord of the Rings), anything bad you have to say about the team you just lost to makes your team look even worse. If you're going to shout out box scores from the past two weeks, you're shouting out to the world just how bad your team is, seeing as to how you just got thrashed by a team that lost "42-0, 47-0". If you're going to tell me that we're 1-6 in LA, then you just lost to a team that's 1-6 in LA you pathetic excuse for a college graduate!!! HEY IDIOTS!!! IT DOESN'T TAKE A WHOLE LOT OF BRAIN TO REALIZE THAT THE MORE YOU TRASH TALK, THE LOWER YOU BRING YOUR OWN PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A FOOTBALL TEAM!!!

My love-affair with the caps lock continues.

I can only imagine just how Nelson-like I'll become when we beat USC. Maybe I'll wear a denim vest to the game. I leave you with this.

Thoughts (from this past week)

2009-10-08T20:51:00.000-07:00

I spent 10 minutes trying to think of a clever, witty title for this entry, but I can't. So, here are some thoughts from this past week. I'll try to think of a better title next time.

The long-awaited grudge match between USC and Cal happened this past week. All I can say is, we got dominated. That's all I'll say about that. But right before the game, before entering the stadium, I got the rare opportunity to watch Peter Carroll and the USC players walk into our stadium to get ready for the game. Now for all you nons, Pete Carroll could potentially go down as one of the greatest college football coaches of all time. And the Trojans are chock-full of future NFL Pro-Bowl talent. I literally thanked God for the opportunity to witness such an event. I was straight up Charlie and the Chocolate Factory status as I ran up to that bus. This was my golden wrapper.

So what did I do?

I started shouting near-obscenities non-stop at the top of my lungs with hands cupped over my mouth for added volume and emphasis. I've always said, "to USC, we're just another team to beat, but to us, USC is the devil". I think the mic man put it best when he said, "THOSE PLAYERS, THOSE FANS, THAT SCHOOL... REPRESENT EVERYTHING THAT IS WRONG IN THIS WORLD!!!". That pretty much sums up how strongly I feel about USC.

So what am I getting at? In between my shouts of "LET'S GO HUSKIES!", "WE WANT CORP!" and "WE WANT A SALARY CAP", all I could hear was myself. Now people have always told me that I have a notoriously loud outdoor voice. So I knew everyone could hear me. In fact, I could have been deaf and their eyes alone would have told me that. When all the players walked in after giving me the dirtiest glares a football team named after a condom could seriously give, a fellow Cal fan walked up to me cracking up and shook my hand while telling me "That was awesome man".

But why was I the only one? What the hell? This program's done everything short of getting on a loudspeaker to tell the world that they cheat and pay their athletes and not a word? No one hates Florida the way people hate SC. PEOPLE HATE SC FOR A REASON. Give me a break. Save professionalism for the NFL. This is college football. Not golf.

On a completely unrelated note, I was with my boss deciding where to eat lunch when we stumbled upon this Korean restaurant in where else but K-town. As we sat down, she suggested I order the "Soh muhlee gook bap" which could literally be translated into cow head soup with rice. But I didn't care, I was hungry so I assumed that cow head soup could be translated into something else that my ignorant, barely korean and far too American upbringing never taught me.

So the food comes out and I try some of the soup before I begin to add my salt and other "accoutrement" (I know, I just jumped on the friend ladder) and I realize that this tastes just like suhlungtang. So I'm super happy seeing as to how I haven't been able to have suhlungtang for what feels like ages. Halfway through the meal, I reach down to the bottom of the bowl for my clear suhlungtang noodles and there aren't any. Any of you who have ever had suhlungtang know what these noodles are. They're like the the top to a muffin. Sometimes they're the only reason I order suhlungtang. YOU CAN'T EFFING HAVE AN EFFING MUFFIN WITHOUT THE EFFING TOP!!! AND YOU CAN'T EFFING HAVE EFFING SUHLUNGTANG WITHOUT THE EFFING CLEAR EFFING NOODLES!!!

Allow me to digress for the sake of better expressing my disappointment in that moment. I remember when I was a little kid, maybe four years old, I saw two older kids getting into an argument. As their words got more and more heated, I remember thinking that this could turn ugly real quick. Suddenly, one kid (the fat one, because there's always a fat kid in fight memories that turn funny at the end) shouts at the top of his lungs and says "YOU'RE F****** LUCKY I'M A CHRISTIAN, CAUSE IF I WASN'T, I WOULD BEAT THE S*** OUT OF YOU!!!". People say I remember EVERYTHING. There's a reason I remember so much. Usually it's because whatever it is was so hilarious to me at the time that it made an indelible impression on my sense of humor and self that would never leave me. THIS was one of those moments.

But I digress (whoever was the first one to say this needs to be punched). When I brought my spoon up from the bottom of that bowl with only rice and soup, I felt what that aforementioned fat kid felt. My anger was straight up feral, primal, call it what you want. Gluttony had nothing to do with it. It was an anger stemming from the fact that THE WORLD SHOULD NEVER ALLOW THINGS TO COME TO THIS. I was about to knock my table over in front of everyone during a busy lunch hour, walk to the manager and shout "YOU'RE F****** LUCKY I'M A CHRISTIAN, CAUSE IF I WASN'T, I WOULD BEAT THE S*** OUT OF YOU!!!!" No joke. I was angry. So angry in fact, I felt this injustice needed to be rectified through this blog that no one ever reads. Lesson of the day? I don't know if there is one, just don't ever give me suhlungtang without clear noodles or I'll turn into a fat kid and give you some great comedy.

Collecting

2009-09-24T22:02:00.000-07:00

My friend Sam got deployed to Kuwait for a year. We'll all miss you Sam.

For some reason, there just so happened to be a Sharpie and lip-liner in my car. Sucks for Drew.

Darth Maul

We'll miss you Sam. Be safe.

Time is of the essence...

2009-09-22T22:48:00.003-07:00

so I won't post a full entry. But I will tell you that what I'm going to post next is going to be utterly hilarious. Maybe the funniest thing you've seen all year. Stay tuned.

Ev'ry time we say goodbye

2009-09-09T22:19:00.000-07:00

I don't know why I named this entry what I did. But all I know is I'm listening to Ella Fitzgerald sing it and it's getting me pretty emotional. I've probably said this once before, but I hate making big purchases. Whenever you buy something significant, for at least the first month or two, you're always so consumed with keeping it in mint-condition that you don't even get to enjoy it like you should.

I swear if I ever meet a girl named Ilsa, I'll propose to her on the spot. Ilsa's just a beautiful name isn't it? There's no possible way there's a girl on this planet named Ilsa that isn't beautiful. It's just not possible. Whenever a guy names something of his after a girl, it's gotta be special. I'm not really that big on naming things, but if I had to use that name for something, it had better be pretty damn special.

A week ago, my mom woke me up just as I was falling asleep and gave me some horrible news. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Those words will never leave me: "You gotta get a new car". My heart sank immediately.

I've had this car since '04 and it's been the only thing in my life that I've loved for that long. It, or she (might as well start now), still runs like new and has been nothing but faithful to me. We're going on 5 years now. I even pay double for synthetic just to make her happy. I love this girl.

I guess for the past week or so I've been reminiscing and cherishing the memories we've had together. Four girlfriends, college, endless snowboarding and beach trips come to mind. But mostly, I'll remember never having trouble that wasn't expected. Ilsa was always faithful. And just like Ingrid Bergman (wow, is that really two straight Casablanca references?), I guess I'm reluctantly parting with her for the best.

Here's looking at you, kid.

The times they are a-changin'

2009-08-28T00:20:00.000-07:00

My friends John and Linda got engaged tonight (congrats guys, I can't say I've ever seen a happier couple). That's two weddings, two engagements and one kid on the way. All in the last year. Somewhere in between I finished college and moved back home.

On a hopefully unrelated note--why has everyone been asking me whether I'm seeing someone right now? I swear I've been asked that at least 10 times since I came home.

A couple days ago, I was talking to John during a tennis break and I'd like to say he was telling me (but really it was more like rebuking me) about what sacrifice really means. And when you're talking to a guy who's about to sacrifice the rest of his life in getting married, it's probably a good idea to listen. So I listened.

I think for the past 6 years or so I've been content telling myself that my penchant for irresponsibility was conveniently limited to relationships, dating and things of that sort. But I've quickly begun to realize that it's bled through to my entire life. Pretty sobering.

I've noticed that whenever I hear about my friends going through these events, I always say the same thing. As much as I prize eloquence, I'm ashamed to say that my first words have always been some combination of "man" or "dude". Pretty retarded I know. But what should be taken as "Man, I'm really happy for you" has always been "Man, your life is over". How is it that I'm just learning now that that's unhealthy?

Here's to urgency and responsibility. And I pray, a healthier take on marriage.

L'avventura

2009-08-05T01:30:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how films stay with you for so long. It's even more amazing when you come to understand them in relation to your own life. Antonioni really was a genius. L'avventura might be the greatest movie I've ever watched.

La Notte, the greatest ending I've ever seen

And Monica Vitti the most beautiful woman I've ever seen

It's not personal, it's just business

2009-07-14T02:25:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest joys of life is to see someone begin to love something as much as you do. A week ago, Isaac came into my room and shuffled through the books on my table. He then asked me if I had any books that he could read. Glancing over, I had my pick of The Supremacy of Christ in a Postmodern World, The Idiot by Dostoevsky, What Color Is Your Parachute (A job-hunting guide), Above All Earthly Powers by David F. Wells, and The Godfather, so naturally I handed him the Godfather. He then headed over to his room to start the book. A few days later, Isaac woke up from sleeping and without doing anything else, grabbed the book, headed over to my bed and started reading. A few days after that, James told me in conversation that he and Isaac were waiting at a bus stop the day before and with the few minutes they had, Isaac took out the book and began reading. What a kid. We even rented the Godfather and he started referring to himself as the Don. "I'm the Don fool".

There's a great line from from High Fidelity that says "it's not what you're like, it's what you like". How could that be any further from the truth. I remember watching You've Got Mail (fyi- I was forced to; ex-girlfriend's high school obsession), and remembering Tom Hanks's character stress the importance of The Godfather in modern life. It's like a male rite of passage. I don't want to sound like an elitist film buff with a stick up my ass, but I have a hard time respecting any guy that hasn't seen the Godfather. Two reasons why:

1. It's just an incredible film (I could go on and on about the subtleties). While I haven't seen many, there are more than a few incredible films in my mind. But very few that fulfill both criteria. Casablanca is an incredible film, but realistically, all it taught me was: 1. Ingrid Bergman 2. "Here's looking at you kid" 3. "Penny for your thoughts".

2. It teaches you life (notice, I didn't say "about life", just "life" which is far more meaningful)

They say there are two types of gorillas in the wild. You're either an Alpha or a Beta. Same goes for humans. Alpha or Beta. Everyone's criteria may be different, but you can't be an Alpha in my book unless you can understand me when I tell you "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse", and that's a simple one.

Who the hell doesn't like The Godfather?

Who loves the suburbs

2009-06-29T02:09:00.000-07:00

On our recent trip to Davis, I remember Rich saying something along the lines of "if I had gone to UC Davis, I would have a 4.0". Now to put this into context, he wasn't dissing Davis as an academic institution, more as a place in general (Rich does not like Davis).

Needless to say, we agreed it was a pretty boring place. And to go back to what Rich said, what he was getting at is how little there was to do. Now having lived in Diamond Bar for the better part of this month, I can honestly say the same about DB.

For the past 4 weeks, I've lived in quiet desperation in a room where the lights don't even turn on (really, they just don't turn on). And by desperation, I don't mean the kind that keeps you worrying about what you'll do about that last final or paper. This is a different kind of desperation altogether. This is the kind of desperation that has you wondering when you'll see another human being again.

If you don't buy it, let me tell you what I resorted to once reading, writing, internet surfing, and TV exhausted themselves. For the past 5 or 6 years, I've kept a small-sized notebook in which I would write every single word that I didn't know the definition of. Whenever I'd hit a word I didn't know, I'd write the word and however many definitions it had in this notebook. Sometimes I'd just want to know the OED definition of a word I already knew just to have it. It was exhausting and time-consuming, but I did it nonetheless. I just needed to.

So you're probably wondering why I'm telling you this. Well, going back to how boring DB is, I've resorted to copying this notebook into an excel spreadsheet. Word by word. Definition by definition. This is my desperation.

On another note, Steatopygia is by far the funniest word I've come across so far. What could I possibly have been reading?

If

2009-06-26T01:56:00.001-07:00

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Putting the Recess into Recession

2009-06-12T06:09:00.000-07:00

You know, there are a lot of reasons to be spiteful in times like these. Having just been birthed out of the college bubble that I inhabited at Berkeley, I've begun to realize that my seemingly endless line of credit and extended bouts of doing as I please won't be there for much longer. But hey, at least I have the summer.

I once told my roommate Ezra that whenever I was consciously entering a new phase of my life, I would let out a huge sigh, you know, like one of those douchey audible ones. I guess as of right now I'm letting out a long extended summer-long douchey audible sigh, one that encapsulates both the past four years and the rest of my life.

The big question for me has always been "what the hell are you going to do with your life". After four years, I'd like to think that I've come full circle back to my freshman pipe dream. But upon closer introspection, I realize that's just my hindsight bias kicking in. It's time to commit (let out intentional douchey audible sigh).

"Relationships are meant to end"

This is what a close friend (who shall remain nameless) once told me after I had just broken up with my girlfriend. And while they may not be the most comforting words of wisdom. I understood what he was getting at. For everyone, there are relationships that you're glad you maintained and cherished and there are those that you regret you hadn't (there are other types, but for the sake of brevity and keeping this post a positive one, I won't expound).

Sadly, I've been realizing that many of the relationships that I hoped would continue simply aren't. But I guess that's just a natural part of life. Just before leaving Berkeley for probably the second to last time, I stood staring at my empty apartment and began to think about all the memories. I guess there are some things that you can never keep with you no matter how hard you try. Relationships are much like memories in that regard. But one thing you can keep with you is how you felt. For me at least, a lot of the time memories are just feelings. Certain feelings come to mind when I think back upon relationships that no longer exist. It's unfortunate, but that's life I guess. To all, here's to the rest of our lives and thanks for the memories.

Writing Music

2009-03-02T00:11:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been on a song-writing binge. Malcolm Gladwell says there's a 10,000 hour rule for anyone that wants to become an expert at something. I guess you can say I'm on hours 10 or 11 of my journey to be a good songwriter. Regardless it's been helping me get through my days.

My theory is if I can just crap out all the, for lack of better word, crap right now, hopefully I can write something worth listening to later on. I think my adolescence was and is dominated by the idea that I could get off without practice or hard work and just succeed off my own God-given talent. Unfortunately, personal experience has forced me to drop this theory.

So since Malcolm Gladwell tells me that everyone needs to be a work-horse in order to be good at something, I guess I have a lot of work to do. A lot of work.

I've always been my toughest critic, especially when it comes to music; so I guess it'll take a lot more than just a few more songs.

Here's to someday posting something that I won't inevitably hate. Growing pains are the worst of necessary evils.

Ficb Welcome Night Video

2008-09-11T00:53:00.001-07:00

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

USA Basketball

2008-08-24T03:01:00.001-07:00

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.

Bravo Again Nike

2008-08-21T11:39:00.000-07:00

Nike Courage - The most popular videos are here

Ending with Oscar Pistorius was pure genius.

Happiness

2008-08-13T05:41:00.001-07:00

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.

...my 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.

20/20

2008-08-05T02:02:00.001-07:00

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.

Miles and Miles to Go

2008-07-24T03:24:00.000-07:00

"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?

The Real Deal

2008-06-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

(DISCLAIMER: THIS ENTRY'S A LITTLE POLITICAL)

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.

Christopher Walken

2008-05-12T00:54:00.000-07:00

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.

Time's 100 Most Influential People

2008-05-07T04:50:00.000-07:00

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.

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Douche

2008-05-04T01:54:00.000-07:00

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

Ditto

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.

It's Not About The Shoes

2008-03-01T02:19:00.000-08:00

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.

Laughing Just One More Time

2008-02-29T22:19:00.000-08:00

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.

Finer Things...Not Really

2008-01-31T02:32:00.000-08:00

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.

Down to Earth Marketing

2008-01-03T22:55:00.000-08:00

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.

It's me....Bourne Identity

2007-12-29T11:13:00.000-08:00

Matt Damon's hilarious.

Walking the Line

2007-12-23T21:07:00.000-08:00

I feel like there's a thin line between being a jerk and having a good sense of humor. I like to think I lean toward the latter, but realize that I'm probably more of a jerk than I think. This past year has been an interesting one because several people have approached me about my "biting" humor as one person put it. Maybe approached isn't the best word to use. Intimated about my abrasive sense of humor. There you go. It's really more of a poking or elbowing humor more than it is jabbing. Not so much meant to hurt people's feelings any more than it is to make people laugh at the expense of others. And I like to think that that expense is a very subtle one. Regardless, if I've ever hurt your feelings, I'm sorry. Keep in mind it was never my intention.

Following in the same pattern of apologies, if I've ever been walking and ignored you on campus or on the street, I apologize again. You see, this year was a year of milestones for me. I finally realized that I needed glasses, or came to the realization that without them I would die. Ever since I was a kid, I hated the idea of glasses. I took pride in being the only one in my family that didn't wear glasses. This continued on until high school when, even though I got glasses, I didn't wear them. Countless near accidents and squints later, I finally walked into Minor Hall and got a pair of glasses and a years worth of contact lenses. So there's your explanation.

It's probably not a good thing that I'm ending the year on a apologetic note, but I felt compelled. So, for the last time this year, I'm sorry you sensitive pansies.

In the Land of Narnia

2007-12-13T07:16:00.000-08:00

So I'm sitting at FSM working on a take home final due in 8 hours running on a double shot and a Rock Star. I feel like Peewee Herman right now, pre-pervert stage. I'm as giddy as a little girl. I just texted my sister and told her I love her. Kind of.

Anyways, the reason I write is to tell you about an encounter I had today. Not with a person, but with a fantasy world. So at 5:30, I was talking to Janekoo Chicken online and decided I'd tag along with her and Misoo to the library. I put my stuff down, opened my Rock Star and began writing. After about 10 minutes or so, I felt a slight discomfort in my bladder and made my way towards the bathroom. The mens was locked so I stood there for about 10 seconds before I realized the womens was vacant. It took me a total of 5 seconds to make the decision to use it.

As I opened the door and walked in, I came to 2 realizations:

1. As Andrew would say, I was "selling my balls" to use this bathroom. But I had to go, so I didn't care.

2. Hmmm....something's different here. Why doesn't this place smell like poo. That's right, poo. Not "poop". Poop has an air of finality. The "P" at the end makes it seem as if there's an end. "Poo" lingers. Those two "O"s can go on forever. Poooooooooooooooooooooooooo, you get the idea. Men's bathrooms smell like poo, not roses. I was shocked. I was in Narnia. This place was a fantasy world. No splattered pee (again, there's no end; pee) on the floor. No brown stains on the toilet seat. No "Poo" smell. I imagined Polly Pocket living in a world much like this one.

Of course, being the neanderthal that I am, I was envious. Not jealous, but envious. I sinned. In the words of Ed Norton, "I felt like destroying something beautiful". Let's keep this PG. I'll just say, I defiled that place. F*** You Aztlan.

Ladies, be thankful for what you have. Your bathrooms don't smell like poo, ours do.

That is all.

All right. Back to disability studies and literature.

Good luck with finals everyone!

EDIT
I just used the mens bathroom. When I looked to my left, there was a bloody booger smeared on the wall. Again, ladies, be thankful.

Good Will over Thanksgiving Break

2007-11-25T16:57:00.000-08:00

I know...I talk about movies way too much. I was thinking; I could make myself like every other pretentious film buff and talk about Fellini, the French New Wave, or old obscure movies that no one's ever heard of, which would accomplish at least 1 of 2 things.

1. I could slowly spiral into a pathetic drone which would lead to my using words like, but not limited to: accoutrement, double-entendre, or even therefore.
Let's be real here. No self-respecting person uses these words in everyday conversation. Please write, like you talk. You just sound like an idiot.

2. I could label myself an elitist and no one would want to read what I have to say. I'd probably spend my nights going back and forth on film forums debating what that penis shot in the last Bertolucci movie means.

So I'd rather not. Instead, I want to talk about stuff people will actually enjoy. Like Good Will Hunting.

Since it came out, this movie has been in my list of favorites. It's just great writing. Robin Williams did a great job. Probably the best I've seen from him.

And of course, a few of my favorite scenes. With commentary of course.

Humbling. This just reminds me never to buy into that whole scene. Let's just be real with one another. None of this elitist Hahvahd swagger (Berkeleyans are guilty as well). Noona, please, none of this.

Tough love. It's great having friends willing to dish it.

It's ironic how no matter how much we can't stand each other, we learn so much from just being together.

I don't want to show too much for those who haven't seen it. Instead, let's watch it together. Anyone interested?

Being at the World Series...kind of.

2007-10-24T22:36:00.000-07:00

So this past summer, I took a trip to Boston to help my sister move in and of course, like any baseball fan, was hoping I could catch a Bosox game while I was there. When I checked to get tickets, they were sold out (typical of Bosox games), so I went ahead and bought two incredibly overpriced standing room tickets on stubhub. Thursday wasn't exactly the best day for us to go, but I was just happy to be able to go see Fenway and the Sox. The night before, I realized that Josh Beckett and Jeff Francis would be pitching the night of our game so I was pumped. Little did I know that roughly 5 months later, that same game (Beckett vs. Francis @ Fenway) would end up being World Series Game 1. Of course, it isn't the same as being at the World Series, but it's probably the closest I'll ever get. In any case, I think it's awesome.

And what an appropriate time to post my pictures from that night and the Boston trip.

I've only been to a few ballparks in my life, but for me, Fenway really typifies what a ballpark should be. Notice how I said "ballpark" and not stadium. It's weird if you've never been there, but going to a game at Fenway really makes you feel like you're part of a community. Not like other places.

The whole park just has a very vintage, classic feel to it. My favorite park so far, hands down.

My favorite quote of the entire night (Notice the number 666 on the jersey):

Sister: Is Steinbrenner the best player on the Red Sox?

My sister's hilarious.

Of course, the Green Monster.

Just looking at these pictures makes me nostalgic.

Big Papi

Manny

Other Boston Pics:

Harvard's got a Calder
MIT's got a Calder
Apparently my sister does too.

Food
Emack and Bolio's
Metro Black Guy sitting down: That thang is bigger than her heyd

Maine Lobster from Atlantic Fish Co. If you're a seafood lover and you're in Boston, you can't miss out on this place. Best restaurant I've been to.

If you want New England Clam Chowder in Boston, you can't just go to any restaurant or cheap stand. You need to go somewhere nice. Trust me, I found the difference out pretty quickly. Don't be cheap. It's not the same. Go to Atlantic Fish Co. It'll be the best Clam Chowder you've ever had.
Seafood Linguini (she didn't want to splurge on the lobster; I did)

Whole wheat French Toast at The Paramount

Crab Cake BLT
Famous Ethiopian Restaurant. Too dark to take pictures.

What's Boston without Art?

Just a few of my favorites that I got to see. If you can name all the artists, straight up, I'll buy you dinner.

Misc.

What a great city.

Silvio Rodriguez

2007-10-22T02:31:00.000-07:00

Beautiful music.

A Tribute to the Greatest Dialogical Movie of Our Time

2007-10-11T04:14:00.000-07:00

So my taste in movies is usually very selective. In fact, I very rarely find someone who shares my taste in movies. Usually any conversation with me and another person is littered with "I liked it, but I didn't love it"s or "it was worth the ticket price"s. Rarely do I ever really connect with someone. In other words, it's hard for me to agree on the topic with anyone.

But I'm not writing this entry to try and evangelize you to the religious experience that is my taste in movies, but to share with you the reason why this movie's so awesome.

Pulp Fiction is a great movie on so many levels, which I could go on and on about to you, but what really makes me love this movie, in the same way that the score of the Godfather makes me love the Godfather, is the dialogue.

Take this scene for example:

One thought comes to mind after watching this scene: I wonder if there are really people who talk like this in real life. I mean, this isn't your everyday awkwardness. This is straight up in-your-face hilarity. Let's break this scene down with analysis of my favorite lines. And please remember, these are MY favorite lines.

"We're associates of your business partner Marsellus Wallace"

How the hell does Samuel L. Jackson fit so many S's into this line? And why the hell isn't my name Marsellus Wallace? What a great name. It just wouldn't work with any other name. Whereas I marvel at Samuel L. Jackson for simply being the first to say the line, my awe is tainted with the sad sad realization that I can never be like him. Innovation like this can never be replicated.

"Hamburgers! The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast"

This line goes so much deeper than just hamburgers. There's the condescending sarcasm of the black man, standing tall above the white man. There's the painful realization that this tone of voice from a black man can only lead to him busting a cap into Brad, or several caps into Brad. And finally the hilarity that hamburgers aren't REALLY the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast, he's just going to kill this guy; so why are we laughing? BECAUSE IT'S HILARIOUS

"MMM-Hmmm! This is a tasty burger!"

The one thing that this line has going for it is the fact that after watching Jackson pick up the burger and take a bite, something in my stomach tells me I want a damn Big Kahuna Burger. This line only verbally verifies it. I still think about the image of that burger sometimes.

"Check out the big brain on BRAD! You're a smart mother-F*****, that's right!"

Check out the big brain on Brad. This is a reaction line. A reaction line is one that really doesn't have any effect without the way in which it's said. Check out the big brain on Brad. It's hilarious. No explanation needed.

"Sprite. Good. Do you mind if I have some of your tasty beverage to wash this down?"

This level of cynicism is dangerous. Who the hell says beverage? No one ever says beverage. No one in their right mind at least. Only someone who's going to kill somebody says "beverage". If you ever hear someone ask for a guy's "beverage", get the hell out of there.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration? I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue."

Why am I cracking up when he just killed that guy on the couch? On one hand you're thinking: "He just shot that guy" and on the other hand you're thinking: "He just shot that guy, that's hilarious". Black humor at it's best.

"What does Marsellus Wallace look like?"

To which Brad responds, "He's..b..b..BLACK!". You could cut the racial tension with a knife. I don't know about you, but everytime I hear him say "black" I'm always thinking: "You idiot, this guy's black TOO! There's no way you're getting out of this now".

"This is some serious gourmet s***!"

I laugh just thinking about this line. If you've been around me long enough you've probably heard me use it in an everyday setting. Keep in mind, these guys just blew some guy's head off in their car. But what I'm thinking about when I watch this isn't the corpse in the garage. I'm wondering what kind of coffee this guy's drinking.

I love verbal banter. I've never laughed harder at two guys arguing as they pick up pieces of skull in the back of a car.

Ignore the retarded skip to fiction.

"I don't want to hear about no mother f****** ifs!"

God, I wish I could talk like this guy. It's so scripted yet so natural. Plus, Jules freaking out is the funniest thing I've ever seen. The range of emotion is nothing short of pure comedy.

I love this movie. Go watch it.

Are you in Law school?

2007-09-29T23:06:00.000-07:00

So last weekend I had to pull out of going to the Monterey Jazz Festival with a few friends because some stuff came up. I listed and sold the ticket at $230 on Craigslist. But when I called to get the money after the festival (the guy wanted to pay the money at the festival), I found that the guy had only given them 210. Not only that, my friend told me he tried to get out of another 10 bucks and just pay 200 until he called him out on it. I guess it was partly my fault that this happened since I hadn't told my friends how much money to get from him, but you never really expect random people to be douche bags until they exceed all expectations. Anyways, to put it bluntly, I got jipped. I called the guy and left the following message:

"Hey Chris, I think there was a little misunderstanding of how much money the ticket was being sold for. Give me a call back and we'll sort it out."

This message was way too nice. I think a good word for it would be "formality". It was a formality. I had to give the guy the benefit of a doubt. At least one. But he didn't call me back the next day so I left another message, slightly more brusque than the last:

"Chris, you owe me money. Call me."

I know, pretty mean huh? Now, maybe I jumped the gun a little bit with this one, but I guess the reality that I got jipped with no solid way of getting "unjipped" kind of rattled me (Rattled, as in "Man, I was really rattled"). I realized there was no legal way of doing this (this wasn't Ebay), so I took a risk.

The Risk

Man, this needs a whole new title line. I'm still laughing about it.

So knowing that the guy would probably never call me back, I took a risk and googled "Largest Law Firm in SF". I took down the name and number of the managing partner and proceeded to call Chris. I left this message:

"Chris, this is Sam. I'm assuming by your not returning my phone calls that you're not going to pay me the money. I'm sorry it had to come to this. My attorney will be contacting you within the next week (proceeded to give him the name and number of the firm and managing attorney that I had googled)"

Please, please reserve all judgment until you finish reading. The next morning while waiting for an appointment, I realized I'd gotten a voice message earlier and called to see who it was. I got this:

"Hey, Sam, this is Chris. Give me a call back. We need to figure some stuff out."

Right then and there, the biggest smile spread across my face as I called him back. The following is the most accurate retelling of the phone conversation that I can give, complete with commentary:

Chris: Hello?
Sam: Chris, this is Sam.
Chris: Hey Sam, I'm glad you called back.
Sam: So WHAT HAPPENED Chris?
Chris: Well, uh...(nervous chuckle) I assumed that those people were your representatives and decided to do a little "last minute negotiating"

Let me start out by saying that those were his exact words, verbatim. Notice how I took the liberty of putting them in quotations. "Last minute negotiating", from the same idiot who brought you "C as in quarter".

Sam: "Last minute negotiating"?
Chris: Yeah.
Sam: Would you have even called me back if I hadn't left you that last message Chris?
Chris: Uh... probably not.
Sam: Ok...have you contacted your representation?
Chris: My represenation?
Sam: Your representation, your attorney, your representation in court.
Chris: (Nervous chuckle) No, I haven't. Sam, why don't you give me your address and I'll send you the money as soon as I can.

At this point, I knew I had him, but I was pretty irked that he straight up admitted to what he did so I decided to mess around a little. Just a little.

Sam: You know Chris, if you had just called me back the first time or even the second time, I would've been OK with that, but it's really more about the principle for me.
Chris: Uh-huh
Sam: Because I think we can both agree that it's ridiculous to go to court over something like this.
Chris: Absolutely, I do agree.
Sam: But (I was telegraphing this "but" for the past 3 sentences) I think I'd much rather handle it in court. I think that's the best place to "negotiate" this issue.
Chris: Sam, I'm really sorry for that. I really am.
Sam: It's a little late for that Chris. I don't know what the protocol for something like this is, seeing that all we had was a verbal contract; which you broke.
Chris: I'm aware of that, but what I'm trying to do here, what should be done for any civil dispute is to talk to one another and settle the situation.
Sam: I tried to do that Chris. That's why I called you twice before and waited for you to return the call.

By this time, I didn't want to take it any further cause I could kind of tell by his sighs and nervous chuckles that he was crapping his pants. I kind of felt bad, in a redeeming type of way.

Chris: All I can say is that I'm ready to send you the money

I then proceeded to give him my information for him to send the money to me. But before we hung up, he said this:

Chris: Are you in Law school?

I could barely contain myself as I answered:

Sam: No, actually I'm a practicing attorney.
Chris: Oh, I knew it was either/or

Hahaha I hung up the phone and burst into laughter.

In retrospect, I realized I probably shouldn't have taken it any further after he told me he'd pay the money, but you guys know me.

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Are you in Law school?