INACTION☆HERO

Say 'Yes' to Courier New

2011-10-27T16:00:00.002+08:00

In a font world gone mad, I've realized how refreshing it is to write in Courier New typeface.

Black Women in Advertising.

2011-10-25T08:29:00.002+08:00

[via copyranter, via AlexandraDal]

Jack Kerouac: "I think of Dean Moriarty."

2011-08-20T09:32:00.002+08:00

Fuji Finepix X100: I want it (but didn't get it)

2011-07-14T15:26:00.010+08:00

My homeboy, photographer Peter Stuckings, was through Shanghai the other day, and he allowed me to handle his Fuji Finepix X100 digital camera. It's a sweet piece of retro-styled machinery. I want one. That's all I can say.

*UPDATE

After longing lustfully for the way cool Fuji X100, I came to my senses and realized that for my photo-shooting style [and bank account], it's best to stay with Pentax. So I bought a new K-r. It's a significant upgrade from my K100D Super, slightly smaller build, still very solid - not at all "plasticy" like so many newer DSLR models; it feels feel great in my hand. The tech advances in DSLRs in just a three or four year span is pretty amazing; the K-r is loaded. Still, the most important thing in taking photos for me is speed and the ability to remain low profile. That's said, my DA 40mm prime "pancake" lens is sweet on the K-r; not ideal for fitting too much into the frame, but awesome for quick street shots and rich portraits with creamy bokeh (aesthetic blur).

Anyway, you should still check out this film X100 promotional film shot by director James Leung of Mutual Workshop in Hong Kong.

Best Civil War Beard: It's a Tie

2011-05-05T21:05:00.017+08:00

James Longstreet

J.E.B. Stewart

This year marking the 150 year anniversary of the Civil War (1861–1865), America's little intra-squad dust up over slavery, I’ve been re-watching the award winning Ken Burn's documentary series, The Civil War (1990). Across 11 hours of viewing, there's lots of great photos of awesome facial hair being sported on both sides of the vicious battle. As for the best Civil War beard, it's a tie between Confederate generals, James Longstreet and J.E.B. Stuart, both West Point men.

Nathan Bedford Forrest

Runner up (but best goatee for sure): lieutenant general Nathan Bedford Forrest of the South, perhaps the most feared man in the War.

Interesting People: Designer Billy Reid

2011-05-04T10:02:00.012+08:00

Billy Reid

I’ve been wearing J.Crew for a long time, including a few pieces that I wore till they turned to absolute rags.

When J.Crew appeared to be waning a few years ago they turned to Frank Muytjens to head up their men's-wear design, and since then he's done wonders for J.Crew as a not only a so-called lifestyle brand, but a brand that digs life.

One of the things J.Crew has really excelled at as a brand in the last year or so is its cross-branding platform. I’d never hear of Billy Reid as fashion brand, nor could I say their look is much to my fashion appeal. Still, I enjoyed this J.Crew website profile of the man who is the creator of Billy Reid—Billy Reid himself, a guy who comes off as the kind of person you'd like to have a beer with.

Referred to as the "Ralph Lauren of the South," Reid bases his company in Florence, Alabama. Check out the profile here.

In Pursuit of Global Values, Chinese Artist Ai Weiwei Detained, Under Investigation for 'Economic Crimes' (Read: Political Muckraking)

2011-04-08T17:46:00.006+08:00

In the week since I posted a link to the Ai Weiwei story featured on a recent episode of the always excellent PBS Frontline, a lot shit has happened related to Ai’s quest for “global values.” Have a read here.

Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention

2011-04-03T10:42:00.045+08:00

I remember reading "The Autobiography of Malcolm X" by Alex Haley when I was 22 years old. It was the first big book (about 500 pages) I was able to read and wrap my head around. Up to that point in my life reading had been something you had to do for class.

Actually, "Malcolm X" was, in fact, reading for a Black Studies class I was taking at UMass Boston called "Malcolm and Martin," a graduate level course offering a comparative analysis of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King. Still, the book was something different, proving very influential in taking me from reading as an academic requirement to reading as pure knowledge. That I was reading the book for a university class become totally irrelevant; I was presented with Malcolm X in light far different from the general impression most American had, and continue to have, of him. I became transfixed on his story, and the man's remarkable transformation of character and rise as one of the most determined human rights voices in U.S. history. All too misunderstood and misrepresented, he is an important figure, worthy of my admiration as much today as he was 25 years ago, if no more so.

That said, the newly released “Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention" by the late historian Manning Marable, who sadly passed away just a few days before the books publication, looks to be a must. It purports to offer view of Malcolm X that differs from that in Haley’s book, which is largely seen as the definitive, if not the most popular, work on the slain human rights activist. In an article profiling Marable's work, the New York Times describes "A Life of Reinvention" as particularly critical of the celebrated "Autobiography of Malcolm X," with Marable describing the book as "fictive.” [Ouch!]

Additionally from the Marable piece: "The book challenges both popular and scholarly portrayals of Malcolm X, the black nationalist leader, describing a man often subject to doubts about theology, politics and other matters, quite different from the figure of unswerving moral certitude that became an enduring symbol of African-American pride."

What's more, the book has a cool, retro dust jacket.

"He's Pitching a No-No"

2011-04-01T09:59:00.002+08:00

In honor of opening day, I'm reposting this.

I’m old enough to remember Dock Ellis, as he was teammates with beloved Pittsburg Pirates outfielder, Roberto Clemente, who was tragically killed in a plane crash in 1972, while delivering earthquake relief aid to Managua, Nicaragua.

Ellis, who died in 2008, had a career marked by a number of incidences, summed up in a good article here. I can’t remember when stories of his LSD no-hitter began to circulate, but in this brilliant short, by Brooklyn-based artist James Blagden (check him), Dock Ellis himself sets the record straight.

Easily said, this may well be the most enjoyable animated short I have ever seen. No lie, it’s some funny shit.

PBS FRONTLINE: Who's Afraid of Ai Wei Wei?

2011-03-31T20:01:00.000+08:00

Very good PBS FRONTLINE story on Chinese artist and activist Ai Weiwei (艾未位).

I'd Eat That: Edible Selby

2011-03-31T19:44:00.007+08:00

BORDER CROSSING
Two New York refugees set up a rustic cocina on the Mexican coast. [via The New York Times Style Magazine]

I'd Eat That: Screaming Eagle

2011-03-25T20:14:00.006+08:00

[via newyorktimes.com]

Now Showing: Bill Cunningham New York

2011-03-19T11:38:00.002+08:00

Before there was The Sartorialist, there was Bill Cunningham.

Inaction Hero Back From the Dead

2011-03-17T17:46:00.012+08:00

A little more than a year ago I gave up on writing this blog in the face of Blogger, Google’s way user-friendly weblog publishing tool, being completely blocked by the evil net forces at work in People’s Republic of China, where I lazily reside. Yeah, I tried iWeb and WordPress, but both proved crappy to use as blogging goes.

Now, with the influx of VPNs fired up behind the Great Firewall, most people can use Facebook freely and Tweet their 140 character brains out, and I can bring Inaction Hero back from the dead. Why not? Dead heroes get resurrected all the time—Batman, Thor, Green Lantern, Iron Man, Flash, Aquaman and Steve Jobs, among others.

That said, here goes.

Waterboareding Used at Gitmo 266 Times...On Just Two Guys

2009-04-21T09:06:00.006+08:00

The NYTs reports that waterboarding was used 266 times at Gitmo on just two prisoners, er, I mean, "enemy combatants." Read the story here.

Waris Ahluwalia, Beard Icon

2009-04-19T13:40:00.010+08:00

I totally enjoyed actor and jewelry designer Waris Ahluwalia's turn as an Indian train steward in The Darjeeling Limited. He was quietly, pretty damn Wes Anderson funny, and has joined my pantheon of beard icons.

Sweeping Torture Under the Rug. WTF?

2009-04-18T09:56:00.005+08:00

Man, the new US administration, with President Obama taking the lead, is really trying to sweep America's torture thing under the rug. A good piece by Slate's always excellent Dahlia Lithwick here.

It's True: We're Sick of "Creatives"

2009-03-05T22:29:00.006+08:00

Khmer Rouge Hand of Torture Goes On Trial

2009-02-17T14:18:00.014+08:00

Tuol Sleng prison, known as S-21, is the darkest place I have ever been.

Tuesday, Kaing Guek — "Duch" — the Khmer Rouge commandant of Tuol Sleng prison, which sent some 14,000 Cambodians to horrible deaths, went on trial in Phnom Penh Tuesday, charged with crimes against humanity and war crimes. Full story in the NYTs here.

The Day in Non-News: Pope Insists Church Rejects Anti-Semitism, Michele Obama Graces Cover of Vogue Magazine and Brett Farve Retires Again

2009-02-12T23:07:00.007+08:00

Dear Brett Favre,

I always thought you were kind of overrated and a bit of a country dufus. Thanks for retiring again. Don't let the NFL door hit you in the ass on the way out.

Not your fan,

Inaction Hero

Lucky Me: E Pluribus Venom by Shepard Fairey

2009-02-10T14:02:00.008+08:00

Yesterday I was gifted the book, E Pluribus Venom, a collection of works by the artist Shepard Fairey, by my friend and number one blog reader, C., who lives in Los Angeles.

Fairey is the creative force behind the Barack Obama HOPE/CHANGE poster sensation, whose captive iconography was hugely influential during the 2008 election. Needless to say, Fairey is getting his 15-minutes. Still, while being profiled up the wazoo, including a very smart appearance on the Charlie Rose show, he’s not received the kudos from the Obama folks he truly deserves. Of course, it politics, the administration, while wildly grateful of Fairey behind closed doors, simply can’t show itself to be too aligned with a ‘guerilla street artist’ with an arrest record.

I was a fan of Fairey's work, long before actually knowing his name, going back to the original “OBEY” Andrea the Giant stickers, which began appearing in the early 1990s. In my mind, he's proved himself to be a ‘giant’ in what he did to give the Obama presidential campaign a visual, inspirational lift. His Obama poster—like much of Fairey’s work—simply hit people; it gave them a pause for reflection, and made them want to stand up , be counted, maybe even raise a fist for change. On top of this, it was simply fucking cool—it made Barrack Obama seem cool, and people want to be down with what’s cool. There's just no minimizing Fairey's contribution here.

I hope Fairey can continue to be a special creative force for the President's efforts. This would give Obama more street cred than his fist bumps and a jumpshot. What’s more, Fairey and his uniquely graphic works would be a great asset doing battle with the obstructionist GOP machine.

Any artist worth their salt is essentially a worker; one who practices their craft like a plumber lays pipe. Shepard Fairy is an admirable in this sense, laying some serious pipe: a stable, coherent visual-voice in the spirit Mark Twain, for what are truly difficult, soul-searching times.

Check out E Pluribus Venom here. It’s available on Fairey’s OBEY website or you can but it at Amazon here.

Thanks C ! You totally rock.

"How You Like Us Now?"

2009-02-03T17:12:00.006+08:00

With the election last week of Michael Steele as chairman of the Republican National Committee, the G.O.P. is saying, "How you like us now?" And while high-fiving each other over their Republican brother, it's clear they're hunkering down for four years of obstructionist politics.

The fact is that the G.O.P. has zero investment in the new administration succeeding and pretty much any level, despite what their constituents might be hoping for.

Even moderate Obama-success likely brings 8 years of a Democratic White House, a notion the Repulican party, seemingly under Rish Limbaugh's leadership more than Michael Steele's, is sworn to fight against .

How can any of America's problems be solved amidst such never-ending "politics" and special interest interference? Sunday's New York Times magazine cover story offers some keen insights, and is well worth a read. Here's the link.

INACTION HERO Picks Cardinals in Superbowl XLIII

2009-01-29T11:12:00.012+08:00

When the NFL playoffs began, and since the Patriots didn't make the cut and I was not held to 'townie' civic loyalty, I told myself I would simply root for the teams wearing red--Arizona Cardinals, Atlanta Falcons--as no team with red as its core color had appeared in or won a Superbowl since the San Francisco 49ers in 1995.

To this end, I'm happy to see the Cardinals in the title game, not just for their sweet red unis, but in that those mutherf****** earned it with awesome play against all the naysayers who pined on about how the Cards didn't even belong in the mix. Add this to my serious playoff man-love for All-World wide receiver, Larry Fitzgerald, and I have to say that I'm going with the boys in red, 31-17.

Hmmmm...Bacon

2009-01-29T10:39:00.008+08:00

"Bacon Explosion" bacon-sausage roll article/recipe in today's NYTs. I'm not sure Michael Pollan or Mark Bittman would endorse this one, but I wouldn't mind giving it a try.

Full on recipe and step-by-step photos here at BBQ Addicts.

"What Is Female Desire?"

2009-01-27T11:20:00.005+08:00

Half-interesting cover story in Sunday's New York Times Sunday Magazine on what women sexually desire . While I was looking forward to something sultry and educational, the piece is nearly academic and reveals little more than what's pretty much well known.

Three less-than-groundbreaking major points of the article include:

1. "Being desired" is what turns women on.
2. There is a question of the drive for "lust" versus a feeling of "self-value" in woman getting all hot and bothered.
3. Women require a greater 'jolt' of stimulus than men do in becoming sexually aroused on (go figure?).

What this article tried to explore in 7,379 words, former Details magazine sex columnist, Anka Radakovich, schooled me on in one short sentence probably 20 years ago, saying:

"Women only want two things from men: compliments and cunnilingus."

Man, Do I Hate John Boehner

2009-01-26T14:29:00.009+08:00

Familiarize yourself with the face of Washington's new-to-the-spotlight Republican minister of distortion and disinformation, and all-around pest of the newly-elected Democratic White House's efforts at problem solving and forwarding a progressive agenda.

Listening to his ongoing commentary, no matter how many nod's to Barack Obama, it's clear as can be that House Minority Leader John Boehner's agenda for the next four years is to attempt to thwart the White House at every turn.

While for many Americans Boehner may seem like a new face on the Washington scene, he's been serving the Republican agenda for some time, and aggressively championed the 1994 "Contract with America," which ultimately proved to the a "Contract 'on' America," and George W. Bush's completely fucked up, "No Child Left Behind Act."

Every administration need's a pain-in-the-ass nemesis to keep it on its toes. Boehner pretty much fits the bill. To this end, I have no choice but to look forward to Rahm Emanuel giving him a good knee-capping here and there.

Okay, Let's Get To Work

2009-01-21T09:22:00.005+08:00

I didn't watch any of the inauguration. While being pragmatically HOPEful in the Obamian sense of the word, I just wasn't feelin' all the pomp and circumstance of January 20. But now that it's time to put the rubber to the pavement, I'm sitting straight up, ready to give a fist bump for each element of righting of the ship.

The End of An Era...a Bad, Bad Era

2009-01-20T10:15:00.002+08:00

This About Sums Things Up

2009-01-15T15:15:00.000+08:00

Fashionable Feet

2009-01-11T19:16:00.003+08:00

No reason for posting this, other than I think it's a nice photo, taken more than a year ago. Typically, Chinese gals in Shanghai enjoy to have their photo snapped; they are good models, especially if you have enough photo mojo to make them look good.

"There's Probably No God. Now Stop Worrying and Enjoy Your Life."

2009-01-07T15:03:00.010+08:00

Not to be outdone by the true believers, the true non-believers have their own message. (Wish I'd wrote that copy.)

Read all about it here.

Welcome to the New Year...Let's Get to Complaining: First Up, How About a Little Less of Eduardo Vargas in 2009?

2009-01-06T14:02:00.009+08:00

Jesus, not to be all mean so early in '09, but am I the only one sick of seeing "celebrity food chef" Eduardo Vargas' fleshy mug every time you open a Shanghai listings magazine? He will certainly go down as one of Shanghai's all-time, tireless expat self-promoters.

Urgh! Pats Out of the Playoffs

2008-12-29T11:41:00.006+08:00

Jet's lose to Dolphins, Patriots out of the playoffs with an 11-5 record: one more reason for me to hate Brett Favre.

With the Pats done, looks like I'm on the Falcons bandwagon...or maybe the Cardinals. No team whose primary color is red has won a Superbowl in 14 years (49ers 1995).

It's True: "The Women" is a Chick-Flick Stinker of Monumental Proportions

2008-12-28T16:38:00.009+08:00

So, being a good sport, I watched The Women last night with my gal. And, as expected, it blows.

For the record, the following actresses should be making public apologies to anybody who paid to see this film (or bought the pirated DVD for RMB7/US$1.02: Meg Ryan, Annette Bening, Jada Pinkett Smith, Eva Mendes, Debra Messing, Debi Mazar, Cloris Leachman (ok, maybe not Cloris Leachman), Candace Bergman and Carrie Fisher.

When they complain that there are no good roles written for women in Hollywood, this film, while attempting to rail against the notion, is absolute proof of it.

Actually, there are lots of great roles for women in film, maybe not just in big money blockbusters. If you want to watch contemporary actresses in smart movies with juicy females roles, check out Friends With Money, Full Frontal or pretty much anything with Catherine Keener in it.

You Think You Got It Bad...

2008-12-26T10:51:00.006+08:00

Either this guy is off-the-chart down and out—or he's got a great panhandling schtick going.

Eartha Kitta 1927-2008: Sultry Actress, Singer and Cabaret Star

2008-12-26T09:21:00.010+08:00

Earth Kitta was many things as a performer and unique personality, but as Catwoman on the Batman television series, she was the woman who gave me my first real 'wood'.

Sweet Web Browsing: Firefox 3

2008-12-20T11:59:00.009+08:00

Kudos to Mozilla and their release of Firefox 3. I'd gone back using Apple's Safari browser for a while, but now I'm totally geeked on this new Firefox version. Lots of simple tools for surfing the information superhighway (haven't heard that thrown around in a long time).

Beijing Up To Its Old Tricks Again

2008-12-20T11:30:00.008+08:00

My beloved New York Times—as well as a number of other formerly opened news websites—is once again blocked here in China. Not sure what the deal is. Fortunately, one of my other favorite news outlets, Fleshbot, is still open.

NYTs back up and running Dec 22. Thanks Comrades!

Slingin' Sammy Baugh 1914-1998

2008-12-18T13:56:00.005+08:00

What Farming Should Be: Muster Field Farm, Sutton, New Hamsphire

2008-12-18T09:25:00.009+08:00

The previous post on Michael Pollan's US food manifesto made me reflect on my visit last summer to Muster Field Farm in Sutton, New Hampshire. It's a working community farm endowed by the late Robert S. Bristol, the farm's founder.

Muster Field Farm is a magical place and a throwback to what farming used to be in America, and needs to be again. More photos here.

Call to Farms: America's Food Manifesto

2008-12-17T21:19:00.010+08:00

I had full intentions of reading the NYTs Sunday Magazine Food Issue back in mid-October when it appeared but, for some reason, got sidetracked. Then last week I ran into my friend and fellow writer (and fellow Pisces), Crystyl Mo.

As ususal, we got to talking about food (Crystyl and her chef husband, Anthony, are genuine foodies) and she asked if I'd read Michael Pollan's Food letter to President-Elect, Barack Obama ("Farmer in Chief," New York Times Sunday Magazine, October 9, 2008). She said it was a piece of writing of the highest order. Crystyl has some cred with me on this type of statement.

Anyway, I just finished the 8,000+ word letter-to-Obama-cum-all-out-food-manifesto by Pollan, best-selling writer on food and the Knight Professor of Science and Environmental Journalism at Berkeley, and it's nothing if not heroic (a moniker not so easy to roll out of my mouth).

There isn't one sentence in Pollan's call to farms in how we grow, process and eat food that I even remotely didn't agree with. In reading progressive ideas of such profound magnitude, I find it hard not to well-up over the notion of their potential to change the landscape for the better as to how we live our lives; but then I get sunk over the notion of the halting powers of corporate greed and special interest hardball politics.

That said, in the spirit of Obamian sized "HOPE" and "CHANGE" it's hard not to imagine that this piece of writing didn't find itself into the potential Farmer in Chief's lap. Have a read, and you'll know why. Here it is.

Pop Music Rocks: Aquarium Drunkard Audio Blog

2008-12-17T10:53:00.008+08:00

This is why the internet is awesome...and I can't get any work done. www.aquariumdrunkard.com

Accidental Artwork of Staggering Genius...Or Just Some Cool Shit

2008-12-15T21:53:00.009+08:00

This painting was done on a panel that is part of a lager wooden construction fence outside the entrance to the Super Brand Mall in Pudong, Shanghai, where they are building an access pedestrian bridge. When the project is complete, the fence will simply be scrapped. I want this panel. Serious.

Winter Fashion Special: Hemp Pony Sneakers. Sweet.

2008-12-15T18:04:00.016+08:00

Two weeks ago I scored a pair of blue PONY Shooter '78 old-skool low tops—made with hemp uppers, yo!—at a department store basement sale here in Shanghai. Today, I struck again, same place, snapping up another pair, this time, khaki/red stripe hi tops (RMB129/US$18). I think I got some 70s thing going on this winter—Pony sneakers, brown corduroy blazer, Cambodian Krama scarf, Big Star on the headphones.

"China's 'S&M' Enterprises Seek Innovation"

2008-12-14T21:26:00.002+08:00

Who says China is not a progressive country?

2008-11-19T18:42:00.000+08:00

People Who Are Born Into Advantage Do Better In Life Than People Who Are Not: Malcom Gladwell Is a F*#@ing Genius!

2008-11-18T10:07:00.009+08:00

Master pop sociologist, Malcom Gladwell, author of the best-selling Tipping Point (didn't read) and Blink (read three-quarters before realizing I could've thin sliced it in 10 pages) is ready to cash in again with his latest, Outliers, which goes way out on a limb (that's sarcasm) and posits that "nurture" is more important than "nature" in personal development that determines one's success in life.

The reviews of Outliers are in: New York Times here, Slate here, Salon here and New York Magazine here (which isn't just a book review, but a wholesale 'star-fuck').

For a short period I'd been reading some of Gladwell's blog. However, all too often I found him dialing it in. Admittedly, his writing is a little more than half-interesting for anybody with any kind of social-psychology leanings (full discloser, I hold a BS in Sociology from prestigious Montana State University), and seemingly mesmerizing to those with none, especially corporate types who have taken to--or been taken by--his layman's explanations of human behavior.

Raking in speaking fees reportedly as high as $80,000, Gladwell has certainly created a sweet schtick for himself.

I'd call that thick slicing.

Yum! Spam Resurgence

2008-11-15T14:15:00.006+08:00

In these trouble economic times, Spam ($2.40 per 12 0z. can) is making a comeback according to the New York Times. I'll have to check to see if it's available here in Shanghai, and give it a nostalgic try.

January 20 Can't Come Fast Enough

2008-11-13T13:27:00.007+08:00

Okay, it’s been more than a week since the election. And as gung-ho I was for nearly a year leading up to the Barack Obama victory, I was strangely ‘over it’ by the time Pennsylvania, Ohio and, finally, Florida were called.

I've looked forward to end of the Bush era like nothing else in my life. Still, I didn’t find myself basking in the post election euphoria like the masses, but felt largely flat and unemotional, and simply wanting to move fast forward to January 20, when the challenge of sweeping change across American goes into full effect.

Let's cross our fingers (on both hands).

PRESIDENT OBAMA HAS A POSSE

2008-11-05T12:40:00.003+08:00

Hitchens Weighs in on the US Banana Republic

2008-10-18T15:53:00.014+08:00

My favorite writer that the chattering class loves to hate, heady provocateur, Christopher Hitchens, paints the Bush presidency as having fostered a US Banana Republic in a Vanity Fair online exclusive piece (right here).

I saw Hitchens speak in Shanghai at a Foreign Correspondents Club event a few years back. Like many, I'd always found him to be a bit of dick in his televisions appearances as a pundit. After his nearly two hour salon style lecture for the FCC, I came away with a very different attitude toward Hitchens.

He was pretty impressive in his breadth of knowledge in what seemed like all things under the sun in a world gone completely mad. And what I realized, is that Hitchens comes off looking horribly pained--both physcially and mentally--during television style commentary, in all likelihood because its a mind-numbingly constrained medium, where you are permitted to speak only in sound-bites, while pretty much being forbidden to expand in any genuine way on a single idea or issue. This clearly doesn't jibe with Hitchens' spirited polemic style. He's whipsmart and knowledgeable in a way that few you'll ever meet are, and is just not built for television-slash-showbiz style punditry in the same.

I had the chance to talk with Hitchens after the FCC gig. He was surprisingly gracious, even inquiring as to what I did for a living in Shanghai. When I told him I was a copywriter (which, for some, is pretty far down the totem pole of writing), he nodded approvingly, and made reference to a copywriter friend who was also a top-notch journalist, perhaps offering me a pill of writerly inspiration.

In his elelment, Hitchens is a veritable tour de force--both when you agree with him and when you think he's totally fucked. I highly recommend checking out some of his work (links updated regularly on his website), including his progressive contribution to last year's atheist scrum, god is Not Great: How Religions Poisons Everything.

The Debates: An Obama Sweep

2008-10-16T11:07:00.015+08:00

Watched the third and final debate, streamed online via the NY Times. The close, sit down format is unquestionably the best way to get this thing done. It forced the candidates to really go toe-to-toe in "Say it to my face, mutherfucker" proximity; close enough that if one got too personal and dirty, the other might sock him right in the mouth.

I like it.

Again, I thought Obama appeared calm, cool and collected, not to mention savvy, articulate and well-reasoned, while McCain, despite positing some of his positions with reasonable clarity, still just riffed on with his snarky sarcasm and boiling-just-below-the-surface anger.

Obama clearly crushed McCain's hopes. However, on both sides, there's a number of issues missing from the dialogue. For me, they include: asking Americans to make some sacrifice in relation to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq (the reality is, that if more than just military families had to kick in, the US likely wouldn't be in either one of these hell holes to begin with); what about 'the poor', or I should say, the growing number of poor—it's been all about 'the middle class'; and of, course, national health care for everyone, especially me.

It's absolutely insane that would can spend eight-point something billion to bail out Wall Street and the economy, but not make an honest effort to bring health care to all citizens, given the clear fact that it can be done. The truth is, too many hundreds of millions of dollars of profit are to be made in the health care insurance industry as it stands.

That's my post debate two cents. Oh, and so as not to genuflect down to Obama too much, I did think he played it safe and, for lack of a better term, punked out a bit when asked if Sarah Palin was qualified to President. I would have like to have seen him lay her ass out with something like:

—"The proof is in the pudding, Bob."

—"Man, fuck that bitch."

—"President! She's not qualified to be dog catcher."

or

—"I think it's up to the voters to decide" (then doing a 'nix' four finger slicing wave across his throat)

Aight. Here's my vote, via absentee ballot.

Another Throwback

2008-10-14T18:38:00.003+08:00

Inaction Hero, 1985.

Browns Throwback Unis

2008-10-14T18:19:00.007+08:00

I totally dig the Cleveland Browns throwback uniforms, especially their helmets with the single white stripe and black numerals.

As a lot of sports uniforms have totally gone off the reservation in terms of design style (U of Oregon for sure), many of the NFL's throwback uniforms (Bills, Chargers, Jets) look just retro-right out there on the field.

Bush Ordered to Release Uighurs from Guantánamo Bay

2008-10-08T15:21:00.006+08:00

Score one for Xinjiang Uighurs.

From the New York Times:

WASHINGTON — A federal judge on Tuesday ordered the Bush administration to release 17 detainees at Guantánamo Bay by the end of the week, the first such ruling in nearly seven years of legal disputes over the administration’s detention policies.

Full story here.

I'm Voting for "That One"

2008-10-08T14:27:00.006+08:00

Even without any visual, in listening to last night's Presidential debate via audio podcast I was still taken aback with John McCain's referring to Barack Obama as "that one." It just sounded, for lack of a better term, fucked up. Then in watching this video clip capturing the moment, it's clearly fucked up.

McCain's bitter contempt for Obama is palpable in not only his rhetoric, but all of his body language. And I hate to say it, but his "that one" had a bit racial tint to it. The deeply irascible McCain really lacks restraint; I find myself half expecting him to let the N-word fly before this is all said and done.

As expected, Obama was calm, cool and infinitely more coherent than his opponent in both presenting his ideas about what direction he hoped to take the county in. For sure, in victory, he's going to serve as a model of integrity and decorum for all of us.

New Yorker Eloquently Endorses Obama; Calls McCain a Vaudeville Illusionist

2008-10-07T18:17:00.006+08:00

A nice piece in The New Yorker from its editors calling on Americans to elect Barack Obama. Read it.

The Real McCain

2008-10-05T18:33:00.004+08:00

A pretty damning, 12,000-word swing at John McCain in the Oct. 18 issue of Rolling Stone, pulling back the curtain on his whole "maverick" thing, and revealing a record of disturbing recklessness and dishonesty. Printable version of the piece right here.

He Was Some Boy, That Paul Newman (1925-2008)

2008-09-28T13:09:00.004+08:00

He was smiling... That's right. You know, that, that Luke smile of his. He had it on his face right to the very end. Hell, if they didn't know it 'fore, they could tell right then that they weren't a-gonna beat him. That old Luke smile. Oh, Luke. He was some boy. Cool Hand Luke. Hell, he's a natural-born world-shaker. —Dragline (George Kennedy), Cool Hand Luke (1967)

Sara Palin Discusses Her Foreign Policy Credentials With Katie Couric...WTF?

2008-09-26T14:15:00.005+08:00

After giving the McCain campaign a spirited bump, it's becoming terribly clear that fundamentalist whacko, Sara Palin, is in way, way the fuck over her head as a Vice Presidential candidate.

The Best Explanation of the Sub-Prime Mortgage Disaster

2008-09-26T11:34:00.007+08:00

Amidst my close watch of all the spectacle, head-scratching, finger-pointing and doublespeak relating to the US economic meltdown, yesterday I downloaded and listened to this May 9 episode of the radio version of the always entertaining This American Life, titled "The Giant Pool of Money."

The show is absolutely brilliant in its layman's explanation of the byzantine sub-prime mortgage disaster that has for triggered the financial mess America is currently facing down.

Frankly, I'm for no governmental bail-out whatsoever (in spirit of course; it's not a realistic scenario), and am even rooting for a recession as a serious wake up call to all Americans as to how we really live our lives (says the American who actually lives in China).

Link to "The Giant Pool of Money" here. You can listen online or download it from iTunes for 95 cents.

Robert Hughes to Damien Hirst: Really, You Suck

2008-09-23T21:43:00.007+08:00

I hadn't read anything by heady, but uniquely palatable, art critic Robert Hughes for quite some time. Then I came across this delightful skewering of poor man's Andy Warhol and enfant terrible of the contemporary art world, Damien Hirst, in the Guardian. Check it here.

My First "Rolex'

2008-09-21T10:00:00.009+08:00

After more than 8 years living in Shanghai, I finally bought my first Rolex.

A German friend I'd run into at the Visa office in Pudong showed me a sparkling new Rolex he'd just bought. I was taken by the quality of its appearance and weighty feel. So I made my way, with his recommendation, to Shanghai Ya Tai Xin Clothing Gift Market located at the Museum of Science and Technology metro subway stop in Pudong (it's the stop close to the visa office).

First shop, best shop

Shop D3-2 was a charm, my one and only stop at the market. It's young, nicely groomed salesman hooked me right away. He saw my tattooed arm and said, "Wah (Wow), your a cool man. I have watch for you."

Who wouldn't be swayed by that?

Actually, he was charming without the relentless hard sell that is the mainstay of China's 'brand name' markets. He patiently laid out various Rolexes, in groups of ten in nicely kept soft, felt sleeves. When I told him I wanted something simple, he didn't show me encrusted diamonds or gold casings, and had some notion what I meant.

It was tough to decide, but I went with this medium size face, blue-black dial model with a stainless steel bracelet (pictured). I was sold on its simple, classic look and heft. However, when I looked at the lettering on the face, it read: OYSTER PERPETUAL DATEJUST. I had a laugh at such 'Chinglish,' and thought, this is perfect for me, a nice alternative to my American Standard company watch.

My salesman, noticing that I'd found my look, reaffirmed that it was a "really good choice for a cool man." When I asked how much, of course, he said: "You are a cool guy, so I will give you a best price," wherein he whacked out 560 (US$83) on his cheap plastic calculator. I told him I'd pay RMB300, that's all (for the record, I suck at negotiating). He then countered by typing 440 (US$65). I said, "300." He offered 350 (US$51) like it was a steal. "300." And RMB300 (US$44) it was. Surely, his good nature in bowing to my offer was a clear indication I'd paid too much.

When I got home, I looked up my watch on the Rolex website to see if it actually existed, and sure enough, there it was: Rolex OYSTER PERPETUAL DATEJUST (how low-rent am I?). It retails for a list price of US$6,500. Clearly, I was wrong about my ability to negotiate, that, indeed, I got a frigin' sweet deal.

Model Crush

2008-09-20T18:52:00.009+08:00

I have a mad crush on Eileen Fisher brand model, Jihae Kim. That's all.

Wouldn't a Real Debate Be Nice?

2008-09-17T19:25:00.004+08:00

The Institute for America's Future is petitioning for real, substantive presidential debate.

Check it out here and see how you can get involved by emailing the following letter to the Presidential and Vice Presidential debate moderators, Tom Brokaw, Gwen Ifill, Jim Lehrer and Bob Schieffer.

Dear Tom, Gwen, Jim and Bob,

We demand presidential debates worthy of a great nation in trouble. Help rescue our national debate from pigs, lipstick, Paris Hilton, and other tabloid gossip. Help return focus to the big crises challenging America, and ask questions that clarify the choices voters face, including the following:

>With the economy not working for working people even when it was growing **what changes are needed to secure the American Dream?**

>The president claims the right to wage war without end anywhere in the world, while trampling American rights in the name of national security. **How do we reclaim the Constitution?**

>With health care costs busting the budgets of families, businesses, states and the federal government, **how do we guarantee affordable health care for all?**

>Corporate lobbies and the wealthy corrupt our politics. **How do we curb the influence of money in Washington** and return to a government of, by and for the people?

>The excesses of the unregulated shadow banking system now threaten the global economy. **What should be done to bring bankers and finance back under control?**

>Climate change is already contributing to melting Arctic ice, hotter wildfires and stronger hurricanes. **Isn't it time for a concerted drive for energy independence built on renewable energy and conservation?**

David Foster Wallace 1962-2008

2008-09-14T10:56:00.006+08:00

Writer David Foster Wallace hanged himself the other day.

While lauded for his tome of a novel, Infinite Jest, it was Wallace's non-fiction pieces and book of essays, A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again: Essays and Arguments, that I liked best.

The title essay of the book is one of the best things I've ever read.

Since 9/11 it's Been a Rough Go for America...And Likely to Get Rougher

2008-09-12T21:38:00.006+08:00

Reduced Dominance Is Predicted for U.S.
Analyst Previews Report to Next President
By Joby Warrick and Walter Pincus
From the Washington Post
Wednesday, September 10, 2008

An intelligence forecast being prepared for the next president on future global risks envisions a steady decline in U.S. dominance in the coming decades, as the world is reshaped by globalization, battered by climate change, and destabilized by regional upheavals over shortages of food, water and energy.

The report, previewed in a speech by Thomas Fingar, the U.S. intelligence community's top analyst, also concludes that the one key area of continued U.S. superiority -- military power -- will "be the least significant" asset in the increasingly competitive world of the future, because "nobody is going to attack us with massive conventional force."

Fingar's remarks last week were based on a partially completed "Global Trends 2025" report that assesses how international events could affect the United States in the next 15 to 17 years. Speaking at a conference of intelligence professionals in Orlando, Fingar gave an overview of key findings that he said will be presented to the next occupant of the White House early in the new year.

"The U.S. will remain the preeminent power, but that American dominance will be much diminished," Fingar said, according to a transcript of the Thursday speech. He saw U.S. leadership eroding "at an accelerating pace" in "political, economic and arguably, cultural arenas."

The 2025 report will lay out what Fingar called the "dynamics, the dimensions, the drivers" that will shape the world for the next administration and beyond. In advance of its completion, intelligence officials have begun briefing the major presidential candidates on the security threats that they would be likely to face in office. Sen. Barack Obama (D-Ill.) received an initial briefing Sept. 2, with Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) expected to receive one in the coming days, intelligence officials said.

As described by Fingar, the intelligence community's long-term outlook has darkened somewhat since the last report in 2004, which also focused on the impact of globalization but was more upbeat about its consequences for the United States. The new view is in line with that of prominent economists and other global thinkers who have argued that America's influence is shrinking as economic powerhouses such as China assert themselves on the global stage. The trend is described in the new book "The Post-American World," in which author Fareed Zakaria writes that the shift is not about the "decline of America, but rather about the rise of everyone else."

In the new intelligence forecast, it is not just the United States that loses clout. Fingar predicts plummeting influence for the United Nations, the World Bank and a host of other international organizations that have helped maintain political and economic stability since World War II. It is unclear what new institutions can fill the void, he said.

In the years ahead, Washington will no longer be in a position to dictate what new global structures will look like. Nor will any other country, Fingar said. "There is no nobody in a position . . . to take the lead and institute the changes that almost certainly must be made in the international system," he said.

The predicted shift toward a less U.S.-centric world will come at a time when the planet is facing a growing environmental crisis, caused largely by climate change, Fingar said. By 2025, droughts, food shortages and scarcity of fresh water will plague large swaths of the globe, from northern China to the Horn of Africa.

For poorer countries, climate change "could be the straw that breaks the camel's back," Fingar said, while the United States will face "Dust Bowl" conditions in the parched Southwest. He said U.S. intelligence agencies accepted the consensual scientific view of global warming, including the conclusion that it is too late to avert significant disruption over the next two decades. The conclusions are in line with an intelligence assessment produced this summer that characterized global warming as a serious security threat for the coming decades.

Floods and droughts will trigger mass migrations and political upheaval in many parts of the developing world. But among industrialized states, declining birthrates will create new economic stresses as populations become grayer. In China, Japan and Europe, the ratio of working adults to seniors "begins to approach one to three," he said.

The United States will fare better than many other industrial powers, in part because it is relatively more open to immigration. Newcomers will inject into the U.S. economy a vitality that will be absent in much of Europe and Japan -- countries that are "on a good day, highly chauvinistic," he said.

"We are just about alone in terms of the highly developed countries that will continue to have demographic growth sufficient to ensure continued economic growth," Fingar said.

Energy security will also become a major issue as India, China and other countries join the United States in seeking oil, gas and other sources for electricity. The Chinese get a good portion of their oil from Iran, as do many U.S. allies in Europe, limiting U.S. options on Iran. "So the turn-the-spigot-off kind of thing -- even if we could do it -- would be counterproductive."

Nearly absent from Fingar's survey was the topic of terrorism. Since the last such report, the intelligence community has projected a declining role for al-Qaeda, which was deemed likely to become "increasingly decentralized, evolving into an eclectic array of groups, cells, and individuals." Inspired by al-Qaeda, "regionally based groups, and individuals labeled simply as jihadists -- united by a common hatred of moderate regimes and the West -- are likely to conduct terrorist attacks," the 2004 document said.

The new assessment saw a continued threat from Iran, however. Fingar predicted steady progress in the Islamic republic's attempts to create enriched uranium, the essential fuel used in nuclear weapons and commercial power reactors. For now, however, there is no evidence that Iran has resumed work on building a weapon, Fingar said, echoing last year's landmark National Intelligence Estimate on Iran, which concluded that warhead-design work had halted in 2003.

He said Iran's ultimate decision on whether to build nuclear weapons depended on how its leaders viewed their "security requirement" -- whether they thought their government sufficiently safe in a region surrounded by traditional enemies.

Iranians are "more scared of their neighbors than many think they ought to be," Fingar said. But he noted that the United States had eliminated two of Iran's biggest enemies: Iraq's Saddam Hussein and the Taliban regime in Afghanistan.

"The United States took care of Iran's principal security threats," he said, "except for us, which the Iranians consider a mortal threat."

Holy Calamity Scream Insanity! Brady Down

2008-09-09T11:09:00.004+08:00

After week 1, my new favorite NFL player is Matt Cassel

Patriots QB Tom Brady went down on Sunday and is likely done for the season. This supposedly spells doom and gloom for New England. However, let's remember that Brady's path to NFL Super Bowl glory was born when All-Pro quarterback Drew Bledsoe's went down in 2001.

I'm bummed for Brady. But I have to admit to having suffered a bit of Brady fatigue over the last few seasons. This forces the Patriots to shift gears a bit, which will make for an interesting season.

With that, I'm genuinely hoping the Pats go on a run with backup Matt Cassel at helm (who has not started a game since high school), pissing off the Brady-Belichick-Patriot haters to no end.

INCATION HERO Back In Action

2008-09-08T12:16:00.015+08:00

I dropped off the map for a bit, since my toasting of Jesse Helms’ death. For nearly two month’s now, I’ve been wallowing in cloud of familial malaise, Olympics fervor, political overload and, well, work.

How 'bout those Democratic and Republican National Conventions: “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…blah blah blah…blah blah blah blah”

Okay, two conventions. Lot’s of hoopla, simplistic feel-good rhetoric, story telling and yawn-inducing election year clichés; promises of “change,” fighting for “what’s right,” “country first” and other grade school level mantras, all augmented by handfuls of smart-alecky backhanding and belittling of the opponent.

Actual substance: Zero.

Nary a word about genuine progressive reform from either side. No economic vision or addressing of the unemployment rate; no serious talk of ‘new energy’ or energy conservation (“Drill, baby, drill!” What the fuck is that?); nada on national health care, education or the bloated military and the runaway military industrial complex; and no mention of taking back of democracy from the corporate run state (Okay, that’s my lefty idealism speaking) or that we might all be asked to engage in a little personal sacrifice to get the country back on its feet.

I'm afraid, and as many an ill-sighted a politician has declared, it seems "the American way of life"—let's say: debt, unemployment, waste of natural resources, war, political hubris and reality television—"is not negotiable."

Jesse Helms, Racist, Bigoted, Art-Hating, Ultra-Right Wing, Douchebag Politician...Dead

2008-07-06T12:05:00.010+08:00

At 86, Jesse Helms got many more years in this world than he deserved. If there's a hell, there's surely a burning-for-all-eternity spot for one of Washington's true sub-humans.

One World One Dream...A Thousand Critics

2008-07-04T13:17:00.009+08:00

More China Olympics media piling on. This piece, "Five Ring Circus: China Olympics Disaster Guide," from Slate. Check it out here.

Please, No More F****** Nora Jones!

2008-07-03T12:06:00.015+08:00

That's it! I can't bear to listen to another bar of Nora Jones' super duper smash hit song, "Don't Know Why?" It's stuck on some never-ending play loop all over Shanghai, having annoyingly become to cafes and restaurants what Ricky Martin's 'tosser' anthem, "Living De Vita Loca," was to bars and clubs here for so long.

Oh, for a for a place to hang out where they play Fugazi.

Shanghai, Baby.

2008-06-28T15:54:00.017+08:00

Snagged my monthly issue of GQ (American edition, July 2008, RMB60) from Garden Books today.

Reading GQ is one of the great monthly pleasures for me here in Shanghai, offering me a wonderfully enjoyable cross-section of well-written, long form journalism along with a hodgepodge of style and cultural trends. It's where I take all my lifestyle cues from.

The June issue of GQ came with an added bonus: a fashion spread shot in Shanghai, lauding the merits of the seersucker suit, while at the same time subtly portraying the notion that if your a half-decent looking white dude in this town, you can pull hot, 90-pound girls at will.

(For the record, I've never seen anybody wearing a seersucker suit in Shanghai. Now grown men in 3/4 length pants, that's another story.)

An American in Shanghai
GQ Magazine, June 2008
Photographs by Peggy Sirota

He Wore A Raspberry Beret

2008-06-26T21:41:00.003+08:00

Dang! Prince is 50!

The 2008 Beijing Olympic 'Games'

2008-06-25T12:59:00.006+08:00

Another bleak assessment of the Beijing Olympics here. (Not about the doomsday mascots though.)

VANS Pimp Shanghai (100th Post!)

2008-06-25T12:25:00.008+08:00

Last Friday, VANS sneakers, long a certain marker of skate cool in the US and beyond, enjoyed their China brand launch in brand-crazy Shanghai. I nabbed a media invite (swag score: 3, t-shirt, stickers), went to check it out, and found myself the second oldest person in the room after skate god Tony Alva. None the less, the kids were alright, and didn't mind me roaming about snapping photos of their stylish foot ware. Check it out here, along with a previous VANS post here.

INACTION HERO Rides Back Into Shanghai

2008-06-25T10:26:00.013+08:00

Back in mid-April I tried to write some deep, heady, philosophical entry about my decision to do an about face and return to Shanghai after a short four-and-a-half months of living back in the US. Then I realized upon landing in the most beautifully over-hyped city in the world, that Blogspot was blocked again on the mainland, and, well, my intended words simply dissipated in a cloud dispiritedness. Plus I had other priorities, like a trip to Di Shui Dong for some Hunan and finding some horizontal enchantment.

Today I noticed that Blogspot is open again, so I’m trying to get the blogging mojo back up and going. A lot has gone on in China, the US and the rest of the global community during the last few months. I really missed the chance for some highly opinionated reportage.

I really hope the site stays open for the duration of the Olympics and all. I think it's a toss up as to whether Beijing will feign internet openness to the world or not risk third-rate hacks running amok online about Chinese gold medal hurdler Lei Feng's, I mean, Liu Xiang's bad complexion.

Charleton Heston, 84 (1924-2008): From His Cold Dead Hands

2008-04-07T03:22:00.003+08:00

Good riddance.

Dith Pran (1942-2008), Journalist, Killing Fields Survivor

2008-03-30T23:15:00.007+08:00

New York Times photojournalist Dith Pran died today at 65. Dith's capture and imprisonment by the brutal Khmer Rouge upon the fall of Saigon, and his amazing survival of the Cambodian Genocide, was dramatically portrayed in the Academy-Award winning film The Killing Fields (1984).

I'd recently re-watched the moving film after my visit to Cambodia. Dr. Haing S. Ngor, a first time actor, received the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his portrayal of Pran. The film also stars Sam Waterson (whom many know from the TV series Law and Order), Julian Sands, John Malkovich and the late Spalding Gray (whose experience of filming the movie is wonderfully captured in his performance monologue film Swimming to Cambodia).

All in all, the Cambodian genocide perpetrated by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge between 1975-1979 took 1.7 million lives (21% of the country's population) by way of systematic torture, execution, overwork and starvation.

Here is the Sunday New York Times piece paying tribute to Dith, and a short article from the BBC with some 'See Also' links to stories on the Cambodian genocide.

Tibet

2008-03-18T05:34:00.007+08:00

"The Central Party Committee is the real Buddha for Tibetans."

—Zhang Qingli, Communist Party secretary of the Tibet Autonomous Region

Journalist Jim Yardley sums up Tibet's dire situation here in today's International Herald Tribune.

Financial Bubble 101

2008-03-18T02:30:00.005+08:00

Okay, so what the f*** is a "financial bubble," anyway, and how does it effect me? A friend passed along this piece from Harper's making some sense of the whole bubble thing. Check it out here.

Twice now I have moved back to America from booming Shanghai only to face a dreaded financial bubble. The first time in 2002 amidst the fallout from the whole dot-com collapse, and now just in time for the whole credit-cum-housing meltdown into recession.

What a bummer.

Bumper Sticker, Seattle

2008-03-07T14:13:00.001+08:00

Let the Brett Favre Love-In Begin

2008-03-06T02:05:00.007+08:00

Brett Favre has finally, finally retired. Favre was the NFL's beloved everyman, but he never really did it for me. In my football watching lifetime, I have judged great quarterbacks essentially by how much I hate them. My favorite teams over the years (less the Pat's Brady era) have often been led by decent, but unremarkable, quarterbacks (Vince Ferragamo, anyone?), but who were often done in during the playoffs by teams with guys b-lining for Canton.

Great quarterbacks I hate/hated (ranked by volume of hatred):

1. Peyton Manning (Indianapolis Colts 1998-)

2. John Elway (Denver Broncos 1983-98)

3. Roger Staubach (Dallas Cowboys 1969-79)

4. Terry Bradshaw (Pittsburgh Steelers 1970-83)

5. Joe Montana (San Francisco 49ers 1979-94)

My selection tends to be guys from a generation ago. This is largely because of how emotionally charged I was by pro football between the ages of 8-30. My hatred of John Elway was near pathological.

NYT: More Than 1 in 100 Adults Are Now in Prison in U.S.

2008-02-29T10:14:00.004+08:00

According to this article in today's NYTs, one in every one-hundred Americans is now in prison. Yep, 1.6 million people at a cost of $44 billion tax payer dollars a year. That can't be good.

More China Stuff: 'Tamada'! Yao Ming Brakes Foot

2008-02-27T07:16:00.003+08:00

Houston Rockets All-Star center and pride of the Middle Kingdom, Yao Ming, is out for the season with a stress-fracture in his left foot. This blows for the Houston Rockets, but it really blows for the Beijing Olympics if Yao's foot does not heal in time for this summers' games.

"It is not an injury we feel he can play with," Rockets team doctor Tom Clanton said. "I've made the recommendation that it be treated surgically and we are working with him to get other opinions just to be certain that that is indeed what should be done."

The doc did not say when Yao could play again, but added that he didn't expect Yao to miss the action in Beijing in August.

Foot injuries are the bane of the big man. Just ask Bill Walton and Sam Bowie.

Yao had been averaging 22 points and 10.8 rebound per game for the 36-20 Rockets, whose playoff hope could wain without the big man. It will be up to [the allegedly] 41-year-old Dikembe Mutombo to pick up the slack in the middle for the Rockets.

The Oscars: I Need World Without Gravity

2008-02-26T06:42:00.012+08:00

Okay, I watched nearly the whole Academy Awards last night. As usual, the whole affair is pretty bland, but somehow laid way for some one-liners and snarky digs at the Hollywood set. Right off the bat, I freaked when I saw Tilda Swinton in her jet black, one-sleeve-less getup against her milk-white skin and Jim Carroll red hair. Actually, my first thoughts were, "damn, Jim Carroll," then I sprang into a spirited version of the punk rocker-slash-New York poet's "Wicked Gravity". Sadly, this was the most enthusiasm I let fly the whole evening.

So, the Coen brothers cleaned up with No Country For Old Men, which was applauded in full by Franics McDormand's sweet two-fingered whistle, well-heard against the robotic hand clapping McDormand's gesture was the most authentic performance of the evening.

Short and sweet, I was happy to see the wildly overrated Juno not win, but equally disappointed that Michael Clayton didn't pull anything. Shit, what am I saying, Jim Carroll, I mean, Tilda Swinton got Best Supporting Actress for her role as the slimy chick-lawyer.

My own nod to Best Full Frontal Nudity (and jutting hip bones) goes to Wei Tang in Lust, Caution (Se, Jie). Lust, Caution was a pretty good film, but got snubbed in the Best Foreign Language film category. I think the Academy felt they'd already shown Ang Lee enough love with Brokeback Mountain.

Oh, and the most insignificant snub of the night went to druggie actor Brad Renfro, who bought it recently with a heroine overdose, just a short time before Heath Ledger's own stage exit. Renfro, best know for his debut role in The Client, was omitted from the Oscar's montage tribute to the Hollywood Dead, Class of 2008.

A Beijing Olympics Story That Doesn't Slam China...Though It Could

2008-02-23T09:05:00.006+08:00

I just read this interesting piece in the New York Times about American, er, Chinese table tennis player, Wang Chen, who never made the cut on China's Olympic table tennis squad, only to retire from the sport, immigrate to the United States, and come out of retirement to make the US Olympic table tennis team at the age of 34. She'll be going for the gold in Beijing wearing the Stars and Stripes. Sweet. Read the story and see the video here. (She's got Forrest Gump skills).

I'm going to be crazy-rooting for Wang Chen this summer, though I worry that if she seriously challenges for the gold, she'll be snatched up by the PSB in Beijing, and be charged with "revealing state secrets," (the Three Represents backspin serve or something like that) the Chinese government's catch-all charge thrown at any Chinese person who gets under the party's skin.

With the 2008 Summer Games Around the Corner, China Is In the Critics' Crosshairs

2008-02-18T13:35:00.014+08:00

Walking up to this summer's 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, China is increasingly being called out on a host of issues, not the least of which is its lamentable human rights record and its steadfast willingness to get in bed with regimes of ill repute in turning a buck. Below are a few links to pieces from The Guardian this past weekend—a look at the prospect of growing protest, by Johnathan Watts, and a particularly stinging commentary from British journalist, author and political commentator, Nick Cohen. Incendiary stuff.

To its credit, The Guardian's China coverage is pretty good.

Needless to say, China, across the board, is a complex, politically clumsy behemoth: easy to throw rocks at, but less easy, I would say, impossible, to genuinely understand. And as the games approach, with the international community's lashing out, we're sure to see more and more, and then some more of this type of media commentary. Of course, there are those that say the Olympics should not be politicized, but those with a critical eye to the world know this is naive wishful thinking.

Anyway, it should get interesting, but what the outcome will be is anyone's guess. My anyone guesses they'll be a lot of bad wind blown Beijing's way, but in the end, when the Olympics have come and gone, Beijing—by which I mean the Chinese government—will go on being Beijing.

Protests Over Beijing 'Will Grow'
This is just the beginning, activist warns, as China tries to limit damage

For six years, the organisers of the Beijing Olympics have been planning an event that will restore China to the centre of the world stage.

No expense has been spared, no detail overlooked. Beijing has splashed out $440m (£224m) on the spectacular "Bird's Nest" stadium to underscore its rising economic power and ambition. Organisers have drawn up a guest list of the global great and the good to witness the re-emergence of this ancient civilization. And to entertain them and emphasise the openness of modern China, they hired the biggest name in Hollywood to help choreograph the festivities.

But with less than six months to go, this celebration of Chinese resurgence is threatening to degenerate into an opportunity for critics to land some blows on the communist leadership.
Full article here

The Only Winner in Beijing Will Be Tyranny
Pick any dictatorship at random and chances are you'll find China lurking in the background

At the opening ceremony of the 2008 Olympics, spectators will watch as athletes from the worst regimes on the planet parade by. Whether they are from dictatorships of the left or right, secular or theocratic, they will have one thing in common: the hosts of the games that, according to the mission statement, are striving 'for a bright future for mankind' will support their oppressors. Full article here, followed by a slew of interesting—and not so interesting—reader replies.

It's True: Not All TV Commercials Suck

2008-02-13T15:45:00.003+08:00

While just about every last American television commercial sucks ass, this Norwegian clip is brilliant. Thanks, Copyranter.

Music Monday: Shonen Knife

2008-02-12T08:09:00.000+08:00

From Osaka, Japan, Shone Knife has been creating great pop music for more than 20 years. They are one of my big three, along with Guided by Voices and Magnetic Fields.

Wind Your Spring
from the documentary film, Blast Off!

It's a New Find

Riding On The Rocket

I, Caucuser

2008-02-10T10:20:00.000+08:00

Today was the day for the Washington State Democratic Precinct Caucuses. I attended my neighborhood Caucus in Greenwood, where I’m registered to vote. Held at the Greenwood Senior Center, my Caucus was standing room only. Caucusing proved to be less than stimulating, but like jury duty, you can see its merits once you follow that process all the way through.

According to the Seattle Times, going into today’s Caucuses, Democratic Party leaders predicted a record turnout of up to 175,000 for Washington State, compared to about 100,000 voters that turned out for the 2004 presidential caucuses.

In the breakout sessions of my Caucus, I was in district group 1308, which consisted of about 50 people. Within that, we broke into separate Obama, Clinton and undecided groups. The Obama group was about double the Clinton group. The floor was opened for people to speak. One Obama supporter took the floor expressing how he thought “Hilary” was an excellent candidate, but that a recent poll showed her to be vulnerable against John McCain, and that as a party we need to go with the candidate—Obama—that was in the best position to defeat the Republicans.

My sense is that the speaker was going out of his way to do a little schmoozing with the Clinton contingent in hopes of changing a few minds (the Caucus format allows people to change their mind before the final counting and declaring of delegates). Immediately someone from the Clinton group countered saying that these polls often did not play out, and changed with the winds. She was slightly more vehement about her position than I’m showing here.

In the end, district 1308 voted 70% Barack Obama, 26% Hilary Clinton, and 4% undecided. This gave our group 3 Obama delegates to the Second Tier Legislative District Caucuses on Saturday 5 April, with 1 representing Clinton. At the time of this post, overall, Obama was hammering Clinton here in Washington State by a two-to-one margin (same in Nebraska).

Washington State has proved more important than anybody thought a week ago. And after today, look for the Clinton machine to continue to stand less on “Hilary’s” merits, and focus more on its less than subtle attacking of Obama with fact-twisting and bombarding voters with misinformation—all very Machiavellian.

Obama '08 Rally, Seattle Center

2008-02-09T10:07:00.000+08:00

I went to the Obama '08 rally at Seattle Center today. However, I was shut out in entering Key Arena, as the 17,000-seat venue was full to capacity while I was still some 500 feet down the line. I can’t put a number on how many people like me didn’t get in, but let’s say it’s a lot (the TV news says, 3,000).

Actually, it was kind of cool milling about the crowd stuck outside the arena. If Hilary Clinton has anywhere near this kind of diverse following, you’d have to really show me to get my to believe it. (Check out a few photos.)

Tomorrow I will go to Caucus in the neighborhood where I’m registered to vote.

Inaction Hero Endorses Barack Obama for President of the United States

2008-02-09T09:18:00.000+08:00

Sometime back, like many of us, I questioned if Barrack Obama had what it takes to lead America out of the mess the current hubris-ridden administration has gotten us into. But as the campaigns went into full swing, Obama began to win me over exponentially, particularly in the matter of character. With that, Inaction Hero officially endorses Barack Obama for President of the United States.

Early on there were moments when I found some merit in Hilary Clinton as a serious candidate to take the White House, but as her campaign unfolded, I grew painfully sour on her in her air of megalomania, constant misrepresentation of the facts, and well, her—and Bill’s—penchant for 'dirty pool'.

Hard to believe, but I’ve even come to the point where I’m starting to view Hilary Clinton as a strange version of George W. Bush, as they both have proven dangerously polarizing and rock-stubborn beyond reproach.

At difficult point US history, to elect Clinton would be to forgo a brilliant opportunity to embrace what genuinely feels like an opportunity for real change that exists in Barack Obama. I fear a Clinton II presidency (Jesus, do we really want the White House to be occupied by two families across three decades?) only sets us up for more of the usual Washington partisan politics—dirty, divisive and bogged down in bitter, odious battles. We can’t bare much more of this, before, as a country, we break.

It's time to move away from left-right, liberal-conservatives ideologies, and come together on the side of progress. I believe Barack Obama has shown us a glimmer of light in taking the lead in direction. Maybe I'm waxing idealistic, but at this point, idealism may be be our last shot to right gone so wrong in this country.

(Hey, you can make a screen grab or download a paster of this bad-ass Shepard Fairey Obama Barack “Progress” poster at Fairey’s website. Also check his other great work.)

Inaction Hero Resurfaces In America, Vows Action

2008-02-07T03:11:00.000+08:00

Back in the US for two months now. I’d been working on some long-winded, thousand-word post about my transition (trippy), the sudden fresh air in my lungs (alien), my quick perception of the current state of American culture (bad television commercials, pharmaceuticals—the new fast food, joy of quality service), my brother-in-law's great, everyman cooking (hot peppers, and more peppers), and the giddy prospect of Barack Obama winning the Democratic nomination, and then the White House (man, an articulate leader)—and then just dropped it because it was drenched in the tone of yawn-inducing, self-indulgence. That said, I’ve cathartically crumbled up that virtual sheet of paper and tossed it in the can. Damn, that felt good. Now lets save the world.

Vietnam/Cambodia Post-Script: The Colors and the Kids

2007-12-12T07:33:00.001+08:00

I realized I didn't write much about the kids I encountered in Vietnam and Cambodia, which is surprising, as they were very much one of the highlights of the trip. Mixing it up with kids, goofing with them and watching them play and laugh was a true pleasure. If you don’t really know what an Xbox is, I guess you don’t miss it, and get on just fine.

Everywhere I went the kids all seemed to have their unique kid-way about them. They were particularly colorful and joyous outside of Sapa and in Hoi An, Vietnam, and in both Phnom Penh and Angkor, Cambodia, but in the latter two places in very different ways.

The kids in Tavan Village outside of Sapa were village kids in the truest sense, roaming about in small groups as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They were totally digging me taking their photo, laughing like crazy; I tried to get them to take photos of each other with my camera, but the big SLR was a daunting piece of machinery to them. Eventually, they got bored with me and went on about their kid business, like in Jayhawks song, “Ten Little Kids”.

ten little kids
on the side of the road
laughing, running
jumping, playing
they don't care what their
moms and dads are doing

Hoi An kids were much the same, but dug you in passing, often serving up boisterous “hellos” from the seat of bicycles and the backs of motos. Again, their enthusiasm and expression hinted at a life less hurried, and less concerned with life’s big questions; their funky mix of hats added to their care-free flare, making them beatific little hipsters.

In Phnom Penh the kids were less engaging, but wholeheartedly interested in the foreigner with the bald-head and tattoos. They had strange intensity about them, some close to feral. You could see struggle in their eyes, and got the feeling overall that they didn’t have too much contact with or sense of understanding about foreigners in their city, outside of their trying to pawn off knockoff copies of Lonely Planet and other Cambodia themed books.

I came across one boy Phnom Penh who really drew me in his presence. He was dirty, forlorn and poverty stricken; maybe 10 or 11 years old (Cambodian kids are small for the age, given their nutritional situation), I followed him from a short distance as he went garbage can to garbage can along the riverfront rummaging topless and barefoot for bottles and cans.

This kid, to use a completely cliché figure of speech, broke my heart. His appearance summed up a lot of what Cambodia appears to be: downtrodden with nothing of means, but still hopeful to catch something, anything to get through to the next day.

I finally caught up the boy and slipped him a crisp dollar bill—in hindsight, it should have been a twenty—wherein he turned to me, smiled, put his hands together and bowed. In this moment, I didn't feel self-satisfied about my good deed as most westerners might, utterly ashamed of my cushy place in life; it’s me who should have bowed down to him in admiration of his perseverance. I really wanted to take him and buy him some shoes, shirt and a 14-inch pizza, but the likelihood is that he would have sold the shoes and the shirt by the end of the day, which might not have been so bad.

The kids around Angkor (Siem Reap) were in stark contrast to those in PP, which is apropos given the difference between the two cities. They were innocent, little half-salesmen. Sure, they were turning on the charm and smiles to sell a postcard or two, but they also just couldn’t help being kids, moving about with a natural bounce and skip in their step, and just goofing left and right; they’d sell for a bit, then play for a bit, again and again. Many had solid English skills, enough to converse in a relatively genuine way. I fell in love with a pint-sized, forever smiling girl, maybe 6 or 7 with terribly bad first teeth. I called her “hockey mouth”, a nickname she took warmly in stride, having no clue of its reference. She was just funny the way kids are just funny.

While there, I can’t say I was totally finding Cambodia’s charm. I think being the last leg of my month long trip, I was a bit travel fatigued, and didn’t take the country in with the spirit that I did the early legs of my trip in northern Vietnam. But since returning home to Seattle, and completing New York Time’s journalist Henry Kamm's Cambodia: A Report From a Stricken Land, I’m left with the country and its peoples heavy on my mind.

In a 2003 interview with the Cambodia Daily in its tenth anniversary supplement discussing Cambodia’s past present and future, Hamm was asked what his view was of Cambodia’s future?

“I have a gloomy view of Cambodia, it is a nation at the end of its parabola of life. There will always be Cambodians. I am not sure there will always be a Cambodia.”

I really loved visiting Vietnam, and Vietnam seems on its way, riding the wave of Asia’s economic prosperity. As for Cambodia, in leaving, I thought, “Well, that’s that.” But nearly two weeks later, in relflecting on Cambodia feeling that's not that; there's more than that. And I’m imagining going back some day. Go figure?

Cambodia: I'm Not In Kansas Anymore

2007-12-06T06:23:00.000+08:00

In waiting for the ferry to cross over the Tonle River and into Phnom Penh, Cambodia there’s real, hard-core feeling that you’re not in Kansas anymore—or Shanghai or Hong Kong or Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh. Taking in the hordes of rough looking locals—so many jam packed into weathered vans overstuffed with what seemed like a world or worldly possessions—shifty looking touts (something like land pirates) and dirty child beggars bordering on feral, I was swept over by a Conradian moment that went something like this: What. The. Fuck.

When my HCMC-based photographer friend Peter Stuckings told me Cambodia was like no place I’d ever been, had I not know him so well, it would have been easy to write his words off as traveler romance. But Peter’s not one to overblow or exaggerate things. Cambodia’s a country left behind by much of the world: a place and people at once both beautiful and at the edge darkness, forever struggling to find its somewhere on life’s map, heavily weighed down by the backwash of 30 years of physical and spiritual abuse at the hands of nefarious machinations perpetrated by both insiders (self-serving political royalty, genocidal Khmer Rouge) and outsiders (Imperial France, desperate US, war weary Vietnam) with their own horrendously self-serving agendas. Sound a bit convoluted? It is.

PHNOM PENH 11/23-11/25
(click for photos)

I arrived in Phnom Penh during the city’s annual Water Festival. The river waterfront—where much of the tourist accommodation is—was a sea of men, women and children that I found a bit intimidating. I’d handled crowds in China, but this was new territory, and a bit unnerving as I made my way through the crowds, stopping off from one hotel to the next trying to find a room.

Right off, I sensed the Cambodians have a staring curiously about foreigners different from the Vietnamese or China. Of course, my appearance is not exactly typical of most foreigners—bald-head, goatee, tattoos—so I tend to catch longer looks than most. In China, a great many stares are long and unwavering, and have this “Hey, look at this foreigner” element. In Vietnam, I felt my salt-and-pepper goatee reminded locals of Uncle Ho, which drew lots of smiles and friendly ‘hallo’ greetings from adults and kids alike. But the Cambodian, in staring, reflect back a sense of bewilderment, as they simply don’t encounter as many foreigners as locals in other Asian countries, with the exception of perhaps Laos. Actually, I had the feeling that my appearance was a bit sinister to Cambodians, like some movie villain they’d seen on a pirated DVD. This would change upon traveling to Siem Reap, in that the whole tourist thing with Angkor brings the locals and their visitors much closer.

Every guesthouse on the waterfront was seemingly full. After walking myself into a ball of sweat, I settled on a small place just off the waterfront, a poor man’s boutique hotel called the Nordic—quiet, clean, with a warmly welcoming, English speaking clerk (actually, nearly all hotel clerks in this tourist part of town speak English).

After the 6 hour bus ride from Ho Chi Minh City and slogging through the Water Festival crows, I did myself right with a few hours of downtime, watching The Great Race and the reply of an NFL game on satellite television, eventually dozing off for a bit.

Refreshed, I though I would be nothing if I didn’t wander out to one or two of Phnom Penh’s social establishments for a few drink and a bit of people watching. The city’s nightlife has a reputation for its salacious character, which if one ventures too far, might even be a little dangerous.

Throwing caution to the wind, I made my way to a place called “Sharkey’s”, Phnom Penh’s best known venue for expats of all walks of life to cavort with what’s best described as, “the ladies”.

Much to my surprise, Sharkey’s dank, cavernous, girly bar filled with bar stools and pool tables was a reprieve from the overwhelming sensation of the maddeningly busy festival streets. It was like I’d been transported to any bar USA, except that the vast number of patrons (if I can call them patrons) was Khmer working girls. Actually, more accurately, it reminded me of old Julu Lu (Road) back in Shanghai around 2000, when the only really cheap drinking to be had was at the same venues that hosted most of the prostitute activity. In end of this, we were quite social with the hookers there, and vice versa, whether you were buying or not.

I did a loop around Sharkey’s, and then settled on a stool for a few very soothing vodka and cranberrys.

The crowed at Sharkey’s was mixed on both fronts: some dog-eared, old white men who looked like they’d been around the block a few times in southeast Asia; some young, curious traveler types looking to make the twenty-dollars skimmed off their travel budget for a lay count; and a few somewhat in-between types, this writer perhaps. As for the working talent, it was of equal contrast: some veterans who’d seen better days, and a steady stream of others with an attractive, youthful bounce in their spirit, girls who might have a chance in another lifetime, but who in all likelihood will also eventually have seen better days.

One funny observation at Sharkey’s was that the bar staff wear shirts that clearly say “STAFF” on both the front and the back, less they be confused with the female patrons.

I chatted up a few a Sharkey’s finest, professing to be just out for a drink, and then was on my way, having seen Phnom Penh’s nightlife.

***

After a full on bacon and eggs breakfast, I visited Tuol Sleng Museum—or what I’ll call the saddest place on earth.

In 1975, this former high school was taken over by Pol Pot’s security forces and turned into a prison known as Security Prison 21, what would come to be known as the infamous “S21”. Here, some 17,000 Cambodians from all walks of life were interrogated, tortured, and then executed before being dumped in the Killing Fields as part of one the worst human tragedies of the last century. All in all, the Cambodian genocide perpetrated by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge between 1975-1979 took 1.7 million lives (21% of the country's population) by way of systematic torture, execution, overwork and starvation.

To walk the grounds of S21 is painfully eerie. Much of the place has been kept in tact since the murderous Khmer Rouge vacated it in early 1979 upon word that Vietnamese forces had taken the city in early. The ghostly classrooms turned prison cells and torture chambers are accentuated by an exhibition of harrowing black and white photographs—S21 mug shots—of men, women and children who would later be killed at the prison, one after the other, the expression on their faces deeply, deeply unsettling; their fate sealed in their eyes.

My mind in overdrive contemplating the atrocities of the Khmer Rough, I nearly got physically ill at S21. It’s that heavy a place. I could feel my body temperature rise and my eyes well up as a looked at the faces of victims. But look, and look again is what your obligated to do, so as to get close to the madness men inflict on each other in the name of reckless ideologies and tyranny run amok. The Cambodian genocide was some bad shit.

There’s not exactly a lot of sight seeing to be done in Phnom Penh, but it’s kick just checking out everyday life on the street and around the central market. My three days in the city coincided with the Water Festival, which limited my time on the waterfront, as it was just too crowded.

Peter talks up the possibility of moving from Ho Chi Minh City to Phnom Pen. The city didn’t much charm me. It has a rough air of lawlessness about it; it might be a little too far across the tracks for even my taste. And from what I saw, I got the impression the expat population includes quite a few ‘salty’, middle-age westerners with a predilection for young—perhaps a little too young—Cambodian women (and men) exuding a high ‘ick’ factor.

I’m all for libertine pursuits. I mean, I lived in Shanghai for 8 years, a place of unrestrained carnal endeavors if there ever was one. The difference being that in Shanghai, the women often are in a position of reasonable equality, if not advantage (I don’t know how to explain this in the right way). But in Phnom Penh, the situation is seemingly clear. Judgmental? Yes. I’m nothing if not judgmental.

In fairness to Peter—I don't want to give the impression he's into being a dirty expat—he's genuinely into the whole idea digging the atmosphere of a country re-discovering itself. He's also all about helping out in projects that change people's lives, having done a chunk of volunteer photo documentation of line mine victims, in addition to work with Operation Smile, that I'd referenced my Hanoi entry. Actually, the work of NGOs and guys like Peter cannot be understated in terms of Cambodia's future, and how much it depends on the goodness and know-how of other countries and altruistic individuals.

SIEM REAP 11/26-11/30
(click for photos)

Where Phnom Penh is an edgy, and for some, even a scary place, Siem Reap is smooth, safe goings through and through, catering to the big tourist dollars attracted by the temples of Angkor.

I made the 5-hour bus trip to Siem Reap with Peter and Chi after meeting up with them in Phnom Penh. As expected, Peter was our guide-o-knowledge when it came to Angkor. We got up at 5:45am the day after arriving in order to catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat.

While the sunrise experience didn’t entirely blow my skirt up, it did give as a chance to roam Angkor Wat without too many other tourists around. This was cool, in that taking photos, I was able to catch a lot of image without humans in the fore or background.

Heading into the inner temple section of Angkor Wat we had to pass some monkeys. It’s said in China that 1,000 men can’t pass one monkey. I think this is to say that, despite their adorable Curios George image, monkeys are kind of surly, and even a bit fierce creatures. When you get up close to one, outside the confines of a zoo, there’s this feeling that they could jump on you, rip your eyes out and run off with them.

Having made it past the monkeys safely, the Angkor Wat experience was pretty awesome. I won’t bother with all the archeological mumbo jumbo or historical timeline, but suffice to say, its builders had it going on.

Angkor Thom was equally as impressive, as was the close by Ta Prohm with it’s unruly tree roots growing up through temple, dislodging much of the constructions. The most famous of these trees is highlighted in the movie Tomb Raider, staring a truly boomin’ Angelina Jolie.

One full day of Angkor was plenty for me. The scene is totally impressive, but unless you're a hardcore temple buff, things can become a bit repetitive.

Other than Angkor, my only other sightseeing activity was a trip to the Landmine Museum. The tiny museum was set up by local deminer Aki Ra to educate locals and tourists about the dangers of land mines. Aki Ra’s story is an interesting one, to say the least, as he became a child fighter for the Khmer Rouge at the age of 10. At visit to the museum is well worth the trip, as more than being informative, its location offers a scenic half hour ride outside of Siem Reap.

I spent the my last day in Siem Reap—in Cambodia, in Asia---ding absolutely nothing, but laying around reading and wandering while taking photos. After a month of travel in Southeast Asia, I was a bit travel fatigued and ready to finish the trip home. That night I caught a red-eye to Incheon, South Korea, where I did not quite enjoy a 10-hour layover before the 10-hour flight to Seattle. Landing at SeaTac airport, I was toast.

Vietnam: Week Three

2007-11-28T21:31:00.001+08:00

MUI NE/PHAN THIET 11/17-11/18

(click for photos)

Sun and half-fun.

Mui Ne is long strip of beach filled with a mix of kite surfers and middle-age European men in Speedos. Simple as that. I got no idyllic prose describing sand and seas. Still, it gave me two days in a beachfront bungalow with sun and swimming: salt-water and the occasional topless bather by day; pool and beer at night. Hard to complain.

What’s special in connection to Mui Ne is the fishing village of Phan Thiet, 14 kilometers down the road (a nice moto—xe om—ride). It’s a great little seaside town with an amazing daily market, an old school fishing fleet, and some of the warmest smiles in all of Southeast Asia, from young and old people alike.

It’s surprising Phan Thiet doesn’t get more play in Vietnam travel guides. While there might not be much to do, it’s got real throwback charm, and would be an ideal place for taking a year off to write your novel.

After the sucky floods of Hue, Mui Ne was just the thing to rest up for Saigon, and the backstretch of my trip, Cambodia.

HO CHI MINH CITY 11/19-11/23
(Click for photos)

The rise of Saigon.

Right off the bat, HCMC is smaller than I imagined. I don’t know, for some reason I pictured it being on scale with Shanghai—though it does have indications of becoming a smaller version of Shanghai. The city has an edge, but buzzing through the CBD, you get a sense of impending glam, complete with upmarket shops that seem to be saying: “If we build it, they will come.”

After spending a night at Peter’s flat in District 1, I crossed over the bridge into the backpacker ghetto and took a super clean, super quiet, $15 a night room at the Kim Hotel, located down a narrow alleyway in Pham Ngu Lao. This allowed me to come and go as a pleased, roaming the streets and taking in the sights.

The backpacker district is much like other backpacker districts in Asia—lots of cheap rooms, lots of cheap souvenir goods, lots of cheap food, lots of touts, and lots of disheveled looking rucksack wanderers. Equally easy to poke fun at by way of Lonely Planet cynicism and fully enjoyed by way of a Lonely Planet copy (a decent bootleg) under my arm.

Since Peter lives in HCMC, I was able to get a great backseat moto tour of the city. And like Hanoi, from a standing position climbing on back of a moto in HCMC seems insane, but when you are in the mix, it’s surprising how smooth things flow despite the crazy numbers of motos.

The heart of downtown, while in the early throes of commercial gentrification, is possessed by an air of easy-going charm. HCMC just doesn’t seem consumed yet with the kind of ‘consumer madness’ energy that fills every ever last square meter of downtown Shanghai. There is an interesting mix of old and new, along with some very old; modernity is on the way, but the French—in architectural influence and large volumes of cheap baguettes—have left their old world mark. From quick look, new buildings are accented by neighboring old ones, whose aged yellow hues sing so much of Vietnam. Add to this a genuine café culture—that’s equal parts ‘uptown’ and ‘downtown’—and its all good.

Even for the big city, Vietnamese in HCMC still seem pretty chill, and genuinely accommodating of the swarms of travelers. And the local kids, whether trying to hustle whitely for some money or just kicking about, are charismatic and hardly as much a nuisance as some travelers to the city lead on. They have a bounce in their step and an easy sense of engagement that’s hard not to meet half way.

I’d be remiss I didn’t wax poetic about Saigon women. As it should be in a big city, there’s plenty of good-looking gals in this city. I broke my neck repeatedly trying to steal a glance at the local talent. I don't’ think I’ve ever seen so many ultra-petit women with such defined curves; they seem to glide along the streets with a certain confidence. My sense is that this is a trademark of Asia’s economic upswing. Women from Shanghai to Saigon and cities in-between are just moving into a better place all around in life—much as American women were doing in the 1980s—and this energy is palpable; very easy to dig.

And Vietnamese guys are all right, too.

On of the sights—other than women—that I really enjoyed in HCMC was the General Post Office. The post office is just way fucking cool: totally grand, dignified and immaculate—all with Uncle Ho looking down on everyone for good measure. Oh, and the tiling just gives the place a du rigueur sense of panache.

Actually, all over Vietnam I found myself digging the geometric floor tiling, its flat hues really lived in. So much of the tiling in both upscale and humble venues has a unique feeling of having raised itself up to the floor’s surface from some deeper place, as apposed to having been bought at Home Depot and laid down. Cool shit.

I took in the War Remnants Museum. It’s some heavy stuff, driven by plenty photographs damning the American campaign to bomb communism into oblivion. There’s even a photo of American soldiers waterboarding a Vietnamese prisoner. Some torture techniques never go out of style.

There’s a fairly new exhibit at the museum, featuring profiles and the images captured by photojournalists who died in the war, from both sides, and from all around the world. Peter’s pretty knowledgeable about it all, and gets to hang out with and old British photographer named Tim Page occasionally, who spent a lot of time in the shit, and return to Vietnam regularly.
Many of the photos are instantly familiar and have lived a long life in American media, but there’s one that just blew my mind, a shot of a US fighter plane that had been clipped by a RPG (guessing) upon take off. In the image, the plane’s tailfin has been separated from its body, and both appear frozen in float in mid-air with frightening clarity. Peter tells me it was taken by a Japanese photographer who just happened to be shooting take offs, that the photo is pure accident.

The war component of this trip has been a big part of it. A lot of heavy thoughts; I was welling up again and again looking at the start black and white images. You can understand why a government—let’s say, the United States—doesn’t want media access to the carnage of war. It tends to fuck people up, and then they start doing shit like calling for and end to such madness and participating in public protest and, often, acts of civil disobedience, like not going to the mall.

I had my own US-Vietnam skirmish in country. I was nearly hustled by a shady travel agent who tried to tack on some ‘arrival tax’ on a ticket he’d booked me from Siem Reap to Bangkok, where plan to hop a flight to the US.

The agent, a semi-smooth talking, gym-pumped guy around 30, quoted me a price on an air ticket, where, only after I paid him and picked up the ticket the next day, the face value of the ticket was $30 less than what he charged me. When I asked for an explanation of this, he tried to lay the whole Bangkok arrival tax thing on me. I told him I’d been to Bangkok many times (twice, actually) and never once paid an arrival tax; and that if that was the case, it surely would be noted on the ticket.

This is the kind of situation when it’s great to have Peter along with me. He’s good at the bad cop thing, presenting tights argument filled with a tinge of hostility. He just chimed in and said, “Let’s call Bangkok Airlines right now and ask them.” They guy tried to bluff us by saying, “Go ahead.” So we did, kind of.

We couldn’t get through to Bangkok Air, so Peter called his local travel agent and asked for clarification—no arrival tax, of course—then handed the phone over to the no-neck for his agent to ‘clue-in’.

The guy was totally bullshit at Peter, giving him the evil eye, where Peter returned a ‘fuck you’ look.

After hanging up, I calmly said, “Are you going to give me my money back or not?”

He really had exhausted all his bullshit, so we won one for all the travelers who’ve probably been bilked by this mutherfucker, and others of his kind who try to steal whitey’s hard-earned money.

Aiight. Off to Cambodia.

Vietnam has been a way cool journey in all its brilliant color, historical reflection, genuine hospitality and all-around good will. I wish this country well; and still will forever be trying to figure out how we—the US—could have raged such an insane war here for 10 years. Political hubris is a killer, eh?

Vietnam: Week Two

2007-11-18T19:36:00.000+08:00

HUE 11/10-11/14
(click for photos)

Rained out; Is Mad Men's Don Draper Jack Kerouac with a job?

What was to be two laid-back days in historic Hue turned into four-plus days stranded in a flood, while cultivating borderline cabin fever. In Hanoi I’d heard traveler grumblings about a typhoon ravaging the coast of Vietnam. I’ve lived through many a typhoon that never came, so my instinct was to go against the flow, and head off to Hue anyway.

I arrived in Hue to a slight drizzle, thinking that whatever typhoon or storm had already passed. Of course, I was wrong. I woke up the next day to overcast skies and a slight drizzle, so I bought a poncho raincoat and made my way across the river via a bridge to the historic Citadel, only to be met by a torrential downpour as a passed though the Citadel gate. Fuck it, I thought. I would man it out.

The Citadel, whose 2m-thick, 10km-long wall renders it an Asian cousin to Beijing’s Forbidden City. However, it’s more reflective than imposing. As walls go, and in contrast to the red, red China-red of the Forbidden City, the Citadel’s walls have a bit of a leafy, aged, kind of medieval European feel (full disclosure: I’ve never been to Europe).

The majority of Hue’s population actually lives inside the walls of the Citadel. However, there is an Imperial Enclosure with still more inner, wall enclosures, including one called the Forbidden Purple City (sounds like a form of ‘E’) and another, Halls of the Mandarins, as well as bunch of temples and residences, and all that never-ending Imperial stuff.

The Citadel took a beating during the ill-conceived 1968 Tet Offensive, when deluded US General William Westmorland ordered Hue to be retaken after it was captured and occupied briefly by the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong guerillas. Some 10,000 people died in the fighting that went down in Hue, including 150 US Marines, but mostly, well, you know how these things go, civilians.

After marching in the rain with soldierly spirit for a few hours, I did an about face, and retreated back to my hotel, but not before stumbling across Lac Thanh Restaurant, a street front joint just outside the Citadel gate. Lac Thanh served up the freshest, self-rolled spring rolls I’ve ever had. Dipped in the finest peanuts sauce this side of the DMZ, they were super f****** good. The proprietor, Mr. Lac, is deaf. In fact, “LAN ANH & The Deafman (sic) called LAC are mentioned in The Lonely Planet”—according to Lac Thanh’s business card.

When I returned to my hotel, the land of which it which its located on was flooded, and within another 24 hours, the whole street was knee-deep in water, and by mid-afternoon, there were even small sampans rowing about town offering to take tourist where they wanted to go—only threw was not place to go. What’s more, the prospect of getting gout of town and heading on to Hoi An was bleak.

After my first day out, the endless rain became too much of a downer to even try to see anything else of not in Hue. Hue was awash—and a wash. So I spent days three and four café jumping on my hotel block, grazing on CNN, watching the extremely well-done first season of Mad Men (there's some serious, very crafty tipping of the hat to Jack Kerouac in this series, including a moment when the show's protagonist, Don Draper, is framed in this exact pose taken from this photo of Kerouac) on my iBook, and reading Michael Herr’s account of the front lines of the Vietnam War, Dispatches. Herr co-wrote the screenplays for seminal Vietnam films Apocalypse Now and Full Metal Jacket. Oh, man, if you haven’t seen the extended version of Apocalypse Now on DVD, it’s a trippy film must.

As luck would have it, I woke up on the morning of day five, the floodwaters having receded, the mass exodus underway. With 15-minutes to pack my shit, I was able to catch a seat on a bus to Hoi An; the rumor was that Hoi An had been hit with worse flooding than Hue. Aiya!

HOI AN 11/14-11/16

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Lidsville with a smile.

What a joy it was to land in Hoi An after the great Hue floods. While I naturally, given the circumstance, can’t give Hue its due here, Hoi An, even after its own effects of coping with the never-ending rain and high waters, a world of coast charm.

Of the South-North tourist run, Hoi An has to be without a doubt one of the most relaxed, warm feeling of Vietnam’s destinations—a sleepy town, friendly, enjoyable, and relatively painless in terms of pushy touts.

Sidebar on touts: While for years I heard people complain about the touts and beggars up and down Vietnam, I have to say its nothing compared to the haranguing tourist and expats—and locals alike, for that matter—put up with in China, where even department store clerks, who should be a picture of subtle salesmanship, constantly crawl up your ass pushing for a sale.

Hoi An was once vibrant port city, welcoming traders from far and near. Walking the streets of the Old Quarter—filled with pagodas, antique houses, and museums—you can imagine old world travelers making the scene, wheeling and dealing for goods, getting drunk and, in all probability, chasing a bit of local tail.

Hoi An as a whole has maintained much of its traditional architecture and narrow pedestrian streets; in fact, the Old Quarter is a UNESCO World Heritage site

It’s way easy to traverse Hoi An’s Old Quarter in an hour or two and take in the sights—a few times. The fresh market is colorfully cool, and hints at how you bought your food before the advent of chain supermarkets—which is not a nostalgic lament on my part, as I’m a fan up upscale supermarkets, like Hong Kong’s City Super. A really, really great place to shop. However, at City Super, or any other similar place, you don’t get the cast of fresh market personalities. In this sense, Hoi An’s Old Quarter market is full of life. I particularly liked the old men in various fedora type hats, and their old timer cool.

Hats appear to be a kind of a Hoi An signature look, giving people, old and young alike, an accidental hipster look. (Okay, somewhere there’s a forthcoming blog entry on the co-opting of the moniker, ‘hipster’, by pop culture and lifestyle publications who’ve come to infuse it into copy where they should be typing: ‘trendster’ or ‘trendoid’, or simply 'poseur'.) There’s the little kids in knit caps, working a kind of pre-slacker thing; young girls in their oversized, 70s-esque pull on brimmed caps; and, of course, the ubiquitous cone hat worn by working class vendors. The cone hat only works in this Asian cultural context. I don’t think it would fly in trendoid enclaves of London or New York.

More than anyone one thing, Hoi An just has a wonderfully chilled out air about it. While local merchants naturally work the tourist dollar, they do so in a completely unobtrusive way, relying on quiet charm over the hard sell. If there’s a tourist annoyance to be noted about Hoi An, it’s the never-ending tailored clothing shops. These are kind of Hoi An’s thing. But after a while, you just simply get sick of seeing them. Well, at least I think men do. I saw many of my male brethren standing in wait as his girlfriend or wife chose fabric, got measured and fitted, and contemplated how mediocrely-great she was going to look in that dress “she had made in Vietnam”.

Hoi An is great, but two days is plenty. So off I went, making my way to Mui Ne beach, about 541 miles south down the coast.

I love traveling by train, unless that train is a ‘local’ that stops at every Podunk town along the way.

I’d really wanted to skip Na Trang, having heard pretty much nothing good about it, that it was a bit seedy and filled with unrelenting touts and hustlers. I can be down with seedy, but I’m saving my seedy vibe for Phnom Penh. With that, I caught a train in Danang—just north of Hoi An—to a dusty town called Muong May, about a half-hour drive from Mui Ne. Easy enough, except it was indeed a ‘local’—a 21-hour jaunt that must have included 21 bone rattling stops. Fortunately I was in a ‘soft-sleeper’. Yeah, right.

My soft sleeper car for four began with two (sweet, I thought): me and this soft-spoken guy from Hoi An who chatted me up with limited English. I told him I was a journalist (which is technically not entirely untrue). He asked if I was married, wherein I replied, “yes”, as I’d read somewhere that Vietnamese really looked down on grown men without wives. Well, I guess that judgment is not limited to Vietnam. Anyway, I told him my wife was in Boston, taking care of her company, which earned me points: married, but so much his own man that he can spend a month traveling alone.

Surely enough, I was punished for lying, as by the time we landed in Muong May, for some reason, our berth was filled with seven people, including two restless kids, all admiring the funny looking foreigner with the bald-head and tattoos.

So goes traveling in Asia. Get me to the beach.

Vietnam: Week One

2007-11-11T11:12:00.001+08:00

HANOI 11/2-11/5
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That Ho Chi Minh had a sweet goatee.

A few days in Hanoi was just about the perfect way to start my Vietnam trip. To go from Shanghai to Hong Kong to Hanoi in a short few days makes for some interesting contrasting of major Asian cities. Shanghai is a clear materialistic grab; Hong Kong rolls on with its greatness despite having to cope with the long reach of Beijing; and Hanoi—at least in its Old Quarter—pops with a kind of rhythmical madness that proves much more relaxed than it appears.

Hitting the streets of the Hanoi reminded me of the firs few days of being in Shanghai—a bit overwhelming experience initially, with the environs instantly enveloping you; very quickly you either jump in and find a groove or be a slow-stepping puss.

In the time in Hanoi, five days total, I’ve traversed pretty much every street in the Old Quarter surrounding the western and northern blocks of Hoan Kiem Lake. The scenery is total Technicolor, filled with various yellow-gold hues, accented with nature green, and all brushed with the stroke of time. Life it street-level feels pretty friendly; most people are quick to share a passing smile.
What’s more, while equally, if not more densely populated than Shanghai, Hanoi is appears free of the incessant barking at each other or into mobile phones that pollutes the air in Shanghai. Add to that commerce—again, at least in the Old Quarter and the French Quarter—that still exists at a semi-mom and pop level typical of Asia’s developing countries (No Wal-Mart, MacDonald’s or Louis Vuitton shop in sight), and there’s something very human about it the place.

Doing my part as a tourist kicking into the local economy, I visited the Hao Lo prison—what Americans know as the “Hanoi Hilton”.

Hao Lo was originally pretty small-scale as prison go; too make way some fancy-ass towers next door, they razed the place, maintaining a corner of the old joint, including the gate, for posterity.

All indications are that doing time I Hao Lo really sucked. It was built by the imperial French in 1896, who housed rabble-rousing Vietnamese ‘revolutionaries’ there (today they would be called “insurgents”) until the locals turned the tide and ran the French out of Hanoi in1954. After that, the prison was used to detain common criminals. Then, in1964, it began to host not-so common criminals: downed American pilots from “the American War”. This lasted until 1973. Senator, Presidential candidate, and decorated Vietnam veteran, John McCain, did a cool 5 years in Hao Lo.

Keeping the war theme going, I did the Military Museum, where I got to watch Chinese tourists make themselves at home, climbing all over the aerial war relics, taking photos in-between smoking cigarettes and flicking their butts on the ground.

After the Military Museum, sauntered up the road to hang with Uncle Ho at the Ho Chi Minh Museum. The displays here are pretty cool and insightful. In the historical category of world revolutionaries, Ho’s hard not to like.

While my most of my fellow Americans are family with Ho in name, the vast majority of them really don’t know much about him as a ‘war time president’ or moral leader. Most of the history books we read growing up portrayed Ho as the pesky leader of the communist North Vietnamese (Viet Cong), threatening to spread that evil red menace to the west. History has shown Uncle Ho to have been a highly contemplative, highly moral, philosophical leader of the first rank, standing up for Vietnam, and rallying his people against all comers, especially imperialist French, the US’s South Vietnam puppet regime, and the neighboring Chinese. He also sported a pretty sweet goatee. What world leader could pimp that look these days?

Okay, enough armchair history lessons.

By day three in Hanoi I realized, that despite the rivers of motor scooters flowing in all directions, Hanoi’s streets are actually pretty safe and pretty easy to navigate. After a while you just get a quick feel for direction, and can’t help but notice that drivers are deftly aware of pedestrians, and take them into account at every turn. All in all there’s just a kind of cosmic flow to things.

In mixing it up with the locals, my every impression of the Vietnamese is that they are simply very decent people, who have perfected the art of chillin’ out, and who approach you on an equal footing as you both take your place in the world. There’s not a whiff of standoffishness or historical chip on the shoulder that many Chinese possess. And if any country deserved to have a chip on its shoulder coming out of the last century, it’s surely Vietnam.

SAPA 11/6-11/7
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Kids who don't play Xbox have winning smiles.

Took the S3 night train from Hanoi to Lao Cai. Arriving in Lao Cai—a dusty train town if there ever was one—I got hooked up with a semi-pushy lady-slash-restaurant owner-slash-minivan owner-slash procurer of all things touristy. I told her I wanted a motorcycle to take to Sapa, and within 15-minutes, there it was, a Japanese Landa 100 (whose logo bore distinct resemblance to Honda’s) ready to go. Sweet.

Off I went, a little rusty on my shifting and cornering, but within a few kilometers, I was relaxed and enjoying the scenery.

Sapa is about 37km of ascending, winding road from Lao Cai with a hint of local life and the occasional roadside water buffalo to take in along the way. At the side of the road, actually, on the lower hillside, I watched a barefoot, bare-chested young boy, maybe 8 or 9, hop on the back of a water buffalo as it ascended up the path of the mountain. It was an impressive moved to say the least.

Pulling into to Sapa was like pulling into a great many rural tourist towns: your suspect of what’s about to come. Sure enough, as soon as my motorcycle came to stop, I was a swooped on by a smattering of hotel hawks, each pitching their promising venue at a cut-rate price. One young guy’s voice cut through the others with a clear, calm sound. He had a gentle way about himself, so I thought, this is the one, and was led to the Pinocchio Hotel (listed in the Vietnam LP) on Sapa’s sloping main strip, and set me up with a 5th floor room, complete with a large open common-ground balcony offering a beautiful view of the mountains. Sapa was going to be alright.

Tourist areas in developing countries are, how can I say, both a good and bad proposition (ok, that ‘how can I say’ tic is a remnant of my ‘Chinglish’ which is going to take a while to lose). The tourist money helps the locals, but then the tourism risks tainting and corrupting the whole spirit of purity in a place like Sapa. Ironic conundrum: I hate tourists, yet I am a tourist.

French established Sapa in 1922 as a hill station summer retreat (those French!). The place fell into disrepair during WWII and the Japanese invasion (those Japanese!). With the introduction of ‘90s economic reforms to Vietnam, Sapa came back to life, giving way to local entrepreneurship, and finding its legs as a blossoming tourist destination.

Sapa is home to a diverse array Montagnards (people who live in the mountainous border region between Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia), primary Black Hmong and Red Dao peoples, each clearly identifiable by their colorfully distinct clothing.

In the heart of Sapa’s market area, the younger of the Black Hmong have learned to use their precociousness—and in some cases, impeccable English and French—to hustle whitey a bit. Good for them. However, after eight years in China, I’ve learned to be impervious to the haranguing—clever and crafty or in-your-face—of opportunistic locals.

Getting off the main strip, I dropped down into Sapa’s fresh food market. Here is where the hill peoples, I mean, Montagnards, come to buy supplies and enjoy a bit of local food. Aside from the scent of freshly killed meat, it’s all pretty colorful, and you can traverse the market snapping photos with little hassle from vendors or customers.

After a spin through the market I hiked about 3km out of town to Cat Cat village. While the scenery was nice, the village itself was a bit drab, offering a hint of what it might have been to visit the American Appalachian countryside during the depression. There’s a bit of a Walker Percy feel to it all.

The real village fun came on day two, when I rode my Landa some 14km south of Sapa to the village of Ta Van (at least that’s the village I think it was). The ride along the winding mountain roads—to be completely cliché—was breathtaking; crazy beautiful. Actually, the sensation for me was one of subtle smile that says to yourself: “This ain’t too bad.”

I hoped off in Ta Van and walked around. Nobody paid much attention to me, until this way cool Black Hmong old-timer in beret (the French influence lingers on in baguettes and berets) came to check me out. He saw my camera and indicated that I should take a photo of a Red Dao girl walking across the way. So I snapped her pic, and then indicated that I wanted to take his photo. He showed me a 1000d (dong) note, implying that that’s what it would cost for me to take his photo. Fair enough, everyone has to make a buck. I snapped his picture, but when I tried to give him some money, he just smiled and waved me off.

While mixing it up with my new, Black Hmong sage, the village kids made the scene, right out of Central Casting in their dusty village kid garb. At first they just did the kid-stare. Then I snapped a photo, and showed them the digital image of themselves. Then I did it again, and then it was on, photos in all directions, kids spazzing out the way kids do. They were fun as hell; wonderfully joyous and animated, the way young people were before the X-Box was invented.

After my fun with the Ta Van kids, I enjoyed a cold beer, then turned back to Sapa. A few kilometers out of town, I came upon a legless old woman on crutches who flagged me down, hitting me up for a ride back to the village with a casual air of having worked her no-leg/free-ride routine a thousand times.

The ride back to town was equally as beautiful as the ride out of town. I found myself stopping off here and there, taking a few more snapshots, perhaps wanting to make it all last as long as possible. When I looked out an the mountains and the lush greenery of the endless valleys I found myself trying to imagine how the fuck America could have been involved in such an unforgiving war with this country.

HANOI 11/8-9

Met up with my good friend Peter Stuckings back in Hanoi. Peter, a photographer (www.peterstuckings.com) who I slummed with for years in Shanghai, now living in Saigon, was on volunteer assignment for Operation Smile—a non-profit medical group that repairs cleft palates and other facial deformities on children in impoverished and developing countries.

It was great catching up with Peter, though I was a bit uneasy with his Diesel fannypack. We were pretty tight in Shanghai, which regularly included nights out eating at Hot Pot King and drinking vodka and Redbull around town. He’s been in Vietnam for a year-and -half now, so he's been able to offer some travel tips along with spinning some cultural and historical insights into both Vietnam and Cambodia. Peter's one of the more skilled practitioners of the lost art of conversation, discussing politics and pussy with equal vigor.

From Hanoi I’m off the Hue City, a 12-hour train ride down the coast. I’ll meet up with Peter again in Saigon in around the 11/20, then again in Cambodia from 11/26-30.

According to Peter, Cambodia is like no place I’ll ever see, so I’m really looking forward to it.

Is it Too Late to Be An MC?

2007-11-03T10:44:00.000+08:00

While in Hong Kong—one of my favorite cities—I picked up a DVD copy of Dave Chappelle’s Block Party. One thing I’ve sorely missed while living in China is black culture. Watching this concert film highlights not only Chappelle’s subtle comic genius, but also the fact that he's a hell of a nice guy who possess a deep seeded love of Hip Hop.

The Block Party roster of performing artists includes Kanye West, Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Common, Dead Prez, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, the Roots, Cody ChesnuTT, Big Daddy Kane, and—reunited for their first performance in more than seven years—the Fugees.

I’m a big fan of Mos Def—both musically and as an actor. Like Chappelle, he’s a hard guy not to like. Along with Black Star partner Talib Kweli he gives a musical performance that exemplifies Hip Hop at its best, as does Kanye West, Common, and a duo I hadn’t heard before, Dead Prez.

Watching Dave Chappelle’s Block Party on my iBook in my tiny Cosmic Guesthouse room in Kowloon, just a few steps from Hong Kong’s famous Chunking Mansions, left me wondering if at 40-something, is it too late to be an MC?