"... - and then one night, around midnight, on the corner
of Lexington and Fifty-second, when you have come really
to the point of losing faith in the existence of such a crea-
ture as you have been imagining for yourself even unto
your thirty-second year, there she is, wearing a tan pants
suit, and trying to hail a cab - lanky, with dark and abun-
dant hair, and smallish features that give her face a kind
of petulant expression, and an absolutely fantastic ass."
- Philip Roth, Portnoy's Complaint
Some Time This Century
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THE JO-TEL IS:
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Hip E.
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Hip E.
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Generation (1977)
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Society (1968)
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PETE
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Just Love it (1980)
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2, & 3 (1999)
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Jo-Tel Security Features
Due to the proliferation of obnoxious spamming as of late, our much lauded comments section has been rendered useless. As such the Jo-Tel has taken measures to eliminate these profane spam scripts from our comments section. Then again, I'm sure that all this spamming could earn us a few cents a month in adwords. Hmmm...
Thank you.
posted by Johnny D 2006-09-29 08:09:22
An Open Letter to <Default>
<Default>, how are things? I haven't seen viagra or online casino in a while, but I've noticed that you've been pretty damn prolific in the comments section lately. I'm glad that you enjoy the blog. I've been pretty busy lately so I haven't really been able to enjoy your low-cost-phentermine.html. But I hope to have some time this weekend. I just didn't want you think that I was ignoring you are anything. Believe me, if my schedule permitted I would respond to each of your comments, or even just write to just say hi. Anyway, like I said, hope all is well and, now, since it's the end of the month, <Default>, would you and the Living Praise Choir lead us in "God Be the Glory." Thx.
Posted by Shark 2006-09-28 20:39:20
A Conversation
THE QUAIL: (regarding Shark's BlackBerry and lawyerdom) I'm poo-pooing Shark's poo-pooing of Yuppie-dom.
HIP E: I'm poo-pooing Shark's poo-pooing in the shower.
Posted by The Quail 2006-09-28 13:39:15
Images from dream:
[Hip E. random old journal entry, Episode II: 5.01.01]Snax sitting on ground. stoned, smiling. Some arabian gansters roll up looking sinister, but they're not intimidating cause they're short. They put on Bob Marley. The leader tells Snax to tell me I must sing the whole song without moving. I start to sing and of course dance - Hey, it's Bob. At some point I comment to Snax that we'd better ______, since this is a dream. He's like Oh Yeah, I guess maybe this is a dream! So Leader turns to Snax and says "He's moving" I keep dancing, look back a second later & he's looking pissed, holding a gun. He points it at me & is about to shoot, so I launch into him & knock him down as he fires. I come up w/ the gun & start running across a grass area reminiscent of a High School on a sunny day. Come up behind a car, sight on arab dude about 40 ft. away. Miss on 1st shot, the kill w/ next two. Out of bullets. Start running back across field. Realizing I can, I push the thumb magazine-release button & the clip slides out to the ground. Now all hell has broken loose. Battle everywhere. Famous people. Ronald Reagan in T-shirt, running across field towards me. With a bunch of aides. Green t-shirt. I take aim on the run & huck my emty gun, nailing him in the dome/grill. Peter Jennings was there too.
Certainly Duke is Duke. They're on TV more than ... Leave it to Beaver ... reruns. Played Whiffleball yesterday. 2 home runs.
Posted (verbatim) by Hip E. 2006-09-24 19:03:49
Reid (1982 - )
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-24 09:11:41
A Conversation
JOHNNY D: Shark, will you move to Sardinia with me?
SHARK: Um ... Patsy will move with you.
PATSY: I don't move to Sardinia.
Posted by Shark 2006-09-23 00:17:17
Everyone in the World Should Buy Tickets to The Knife Show in San Francisco
October 11, 2006 @ The Mezzanine
Posted by Shark 2006-09-22 22:09:34
RB's Long-Lost Relative Found??
Is it just me, or does this amazing creature on the left kind of look a tiny bit like a member of the Browning clan? Not anyone in particular, just one of them. Perhaps an aunt. An aunt who kept her porn name when she switched over to Clairvoyant Readings.
Some quotes from this brochure, which I found at [my company's] Health and Safety Fair:
A Past Life Reading (AKA 'The Rose Reading')
In a past life reading, I will say hello to a rose that represents you as a spirit. In this rose, I will look at how open you are as a spirit to new information, how long you have been taking bodies on this planet, spiritual agreements you have made to give other spirits bodies (i.e. have children), where you as a spirit are in relation to your path and three past lives that are pertinent to this lifetime and to your present growth....
Clairvoyant Healing
Saying hello to stuck energies or energies that are not working for you is the first step in releasing them....
What is clairvoyant reading?
During a clairvoyant reading, I say hello to you as a spirit and read the energies in your aura. I will say hello to where your energy is right and flowing and where there are dark spots or stagnant energies.
Paying this broad for her insanity is neither Healthy, nor Safe, nor Fair. Reverend Rebecca Doubledee, please stay away from my 6th chakra, and say hello to my little friend.
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-22 16:53:32
Yesterday
I got up at 5:10 as usual to go to work. Showered, dressed, put on my rain pants, left the house at 5:40. Rode down Van Ness to Geary, and then all the way out to 15th Ave. and Lake where I parked my bike and put the cover on it. Walked two blocks back to 13th & Lake to wait for the vanpool van. Got in, took a nap, got to the main gate at 6:30. I got out at that point because I realized I had forgotten my ID badge at home. So I went into the guard house to get a temporary badge for the day. This was going to be a big hassle because I can't log on to my computer without my smartbadge plugged into the badge reader. I would have to call the computer guy to give me a password for the day. Duane, the guard, asked for my driver's license. I went to take it out and realized that I forgot my wallet at home too. Now since I started working here in mid-June I've forgotten my badge maybe one other time. I haven't come to work without my wallet since about 2004. But somehow yesterday I hit the two-fecta. Duane and the other guy said "Sorry, you're going home." I called my boss and he tried to pull some strings, but to no avail. A guy drove through the gate and gave Duane and I doughnuts. That would prove to be the best thing that happened all day. At 7:15, my boss came and got me, and we started driving towards the bus stop. But then I remembered that my helmet was still in the back of the vanpool van. So we went back and I waited outside the gate while my boss went back in and searched the van for my helmet. He came back, got me, and took me to the bus stop. He was like "OK, so you don't really have to come back today if you don't want to. You can just take it off and make it up another time." I was like, "Yeah, I think I'll probably come back." He said "Alright, well let me know when you decide." And I was like "OK.... So.. can I borrow some money?" He gave me $15 for the bus and BART and I was on my way. I had to wait about 10 minutes for that bus, 5 minutes for the BART, and then about a half-hour for the 19 on Market, highlighted by a half-full 19 blowing by us 20 minutes into the wait and me calling MUNI to report the driver. I went home, got a bagel and some coffee, watched the first 20 minutes of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure with Patsy, nearly fell asleep sitting on the couch, slapped myself in the face a couple times, and then set out. Carrying my helmet and motorcycle jacket, I walked six blocks to Sacramento to catch the 1, which deposited me forty minutes later three more blocks from my bike. I took the cover off and rode back over the Golden Gate and Richmond Bridges to work, arriving at 12:45. At this point I had been awake for seven and a half hours without getting paid. The End.
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-22 08:38:01
Wake Up With Regret
KKSF ("Smooth Jazz" 103.7 on your FM dial....) has a big ad campaign going on around The City for their (new?) morning show, Wake Up With Whoopi. Yes, they're talking about Whoopi Goldberg. Which is borderline disgusting, because... well, because it's Whoopi Goldberg - even Ted Danson is horrified by the idea of waking up with her these days.
It's been a personal nightmare of mine ever since back in the day. Why? you ask. Here's why:
Wake up with Whoopi? Fuck that. I'd rather wake up with a rash on my cack and $34 missing from my wallet.
Posted by The Quail 2006-09-21 18:44:42
Top Five Flaws in Citizen Kane
Of all of my accomplishments as a film critic, the one I am most proud of is spearheading the critical and popular acceptance of Citizen Kane. After years of maligned reviews and near-obscurity, it's solid top 30 finish in my 1999 version of Shark's Top Fifty Movies began a ripple effect that would propel it into the upper pantheon of American films, where it belongs. Before my trailblazing inclusion of Orson Welles's masterpiece in my top fifty list, Kane was languishing at #2 on Sight and Sound's Greatest Movies in the World List. Yet, just one year after I released my top fifty list, Kane rocketed to the #1 the aforementioned list and, that same year, obtained an identical position in AFI's Top 100 (American) Films. The phenomenon was not limited to critics. Soon after my extolling review, several of the film's more memorable moments started to become emblazoned in the public consciousness. One could begin to hear, for the first time, the film's famous "Rosebud" line being uttered by all walks of moviegoers. And by now, good luck finding someone who HASN'T seen the "News on the March" scene AT LEAST four times!
Now I feel somewhat like I should counteract the fervor that I began just seven years ago. To these ends, here are my top five flaws in Citizen Kane:
5. The Eyeless Cockatoo
After the cut to the marriage break-up scene, a screaming cockatoo darts from the foreground. You can see right through the bird's eye. It's a mistake.
4. The Bartendar's Question to Suzane Alexander
In an early scene, the "News on the March" reporter asks the El Rancho's (Like The The The Rancho) bartender whether he's knows the meaning of Rosebud. The bartender replies that, actually, he asked Ms. Alexander about "Rosebud" after he read about it in the paper. Then the action inexplicably cuts to the next scene, without giving us his answer to this important question. Nor is there any closure. The theory that this cut should be viewed as a framing devise deployed to increase suspense is undermined by the fact that Suzane Alexander does not know what Rosebud means and most likely if she was asked, she would reply as such. So why leave us hanging on an answer that is utterly uninteresting? Probably just a sloppy cut....
3. The Crusader
After we watch Kane's sled collect snow, the movie cuts to a Christmas of Kane's youth when a sled is thrust towards him a gift. As the paper comes off the viewer can see writing on the sled, but cannot made out the words. Apparently, the words are: "The Crusader". This is actually a nice motif, contrasting the delicate playfulness of Kane's youth (the Rosebud sled) with the deliberate populism of his newspaper-magnate adulthood ("The Crusader"). That is, it would have been a nice motif IF YOU COULD ACTUALLY SEE THE WORDS IN THE MOVIE.
2. The Desert Coast of Florida (feat. The Pre-Historical Picnic Scene)
In the opening newsreel, Xanadu is described as being "on the desert coast of Florida". Correct me if I'm wrong, but Florida does not have a desert coast. Also, now that I think of it, Florida does not have winged pterodactyls. Nonetheless, in the beach picnic scene, the wings of a flying dinosaur can be seen to flap in silhouette behind the forest matte. (The dinosaur was a prop in a prehistoric adventure being filmed at the RKO studios.)
1. The Death of Kane's First Wife and Son
The "News on the March" segment, mentions that Kane's first wife and his son died in a "mysterious" car accident soon after Kane's re-marriage to Suzane Alexander. However, this grave and importantly suspicious car accident is never mentioned in the movie itself. Now, it's true that Citizen Kane often focuses on the subtler, more telling events in Kane's life. But, seriously, it seems nothing less than a blatant error in editing to not delete mention of something like "Kane was possibly behind the death of his first wife and son" if your not going to mention it all later. I mean, how important is it that Kane finished Leland's scathing review of Suzane Alexander's opera debut if he KILLED HIS SON???
Posted by Shark 2006-09-20 20:46:21
Actual Line from the Ben Gay Commercial I Saw Two Nights Ago
"Feel the deep, penetrating Ben Gay heat."
Posted by The Quail 2006-09-20 16:50:34
Johnny D: Tired
Posted by The Johnny D 2006-09-20 00:45:26
Bay Area Man, After Spending 11 Hours at Work, with Little End in Sight, Writes Self Indulgent, Narcistic Blog Post
San Francisco- A Bay Area man, after have spent just a little bit too much time at work, was caught, writing a infallibly terrible blog post while procrastinating the completion of his impending workload. While not as egregious as an earlier post by this man, who chooses to remain nameless, the post was described by others as a little self indulgent, narcissistic and pretty bad. When interviewed, the man, slightly exhausted, responded “It was about 11:15. I was still at work. The program I use for design functions a little bit slower than I would like and I got a little bored, you know? In between calculations, waiting for the computer to recover, I would turn to the internet for entertainment. After about 6:00, though, the news and inflow of interesting articles kind of slows down, so after having read my fill of the Proceedings of the Athanasius Kircher Society, I turned to my own blog for entertainment. I mean, come on, the post seemed pretty funny at the time!” When questioned by fellow posters on his blog regarding the terrible post, the man just shrugged. “I’d do it again, you know? Sometimes, a person just has some stupid shit to say, so they say it, I am sure it won’t alienate the ‘Pete Post’ readers.”
Posted by The Johnny D 2006-09-1822:19:45
Johnny D Perplexed when He Sees Himself in Staring Back Coldly With Mullet Wig
Johnny D just doesn't understand. The person staring back at him looks a whole lot like him, sadly, the grin, the slightly larger two front teeth. Johnny D goes to Jo-Tel to enjoy funny, but is greeted by his doppleganger coolly mocking him "MOCK! MOCK!", the evil Dorian Grey shouts at Johnny D as he tries reach his slumber. They say that the photograph steals a peice of the Rastaman's soul. Johnny D is no Rastaman, but it feels like his soul has ripped from him. Terrible! Oh the Agony!Johnny D wonders, just wonders if one night he was roofied and forced to take the vile wicked pictire that haunts hime TO THIS DAY. But honestly, Johnny D does not have that shirt in his portfolio, at least not that he remembers, maybe in high school. Johnny D dressed terribly in high school. Johnny D dresses ironically now. Johnny D wonders, though, would they have put him in dopey wardrobe if they were only taking his soul while wearing a wig. Johnny D is real tired of typing in sould instead of soul. Johnny D real tired of designing roads in South Africa. He really wants to go home and finish Arrested Development: Season 3.
Johnny D is a model. What you think girls? Johnny D can model? Johnny D can write about headlights. Johnny D can design roads in South Africa.
Posted by The Johnny D 2006-09-1822:19:45
You should see his take on Amos 'n' Andy
Read this article from ABC News' The Blotter. Here's the first paragraph, just to give you a sense of what you're in for:
The ruler of Dubai came to Kentucky to buy race horses but ended up being served with a lawsuit alleging he enslaved thousands of small boys as camel jockeys.
Yeah.
Posted by The Quail 2006-09-18 13:15:35
Conversations (Saturday Night)
JOHNNY D (to Shark): Shark, it's going to be a big night.
SHARK: Why?
JOHNNY D: Because I'm going to wear my red leather jacket.
SHARK: Well, I'm not --
JOHNNY D: -- and I'm going to do coke.
***
JOHNNY D: It's so funny to find out what the singer of Wolf Parade looks like.
THE QUAIL: ... What does he look like?
JOHNNY D: He's tall and he's got blond croppped hair - just like Hip E.
Hip E.:
***
REID: What's the worst concert you've ever been to with a girl?
SHARK: Um. I don't know. That's a really dumb question.
REID: Oh. I was just remembering this really bad concert I went to with a chick. Some John Mayer wannabe. I can't remember his name. But it was really terrible.
***
JOHNNY D: Apparently iTunes 7.0 has done away with the inter-song hiccup!
Johnny D spills his beer.
***
JOHNNY D (walking home from the bar with Shark): I don't want to be hostile, well, actually I do. But I just wondering why I have to ... pee behind this bush right now...
Posted by Shark and The Quail 2006-09-16 22:51:38
I'm From Barcelona's First Full Album Bares Strong Resemblence to a Piece of Poo
I'm From Barcelona
Let Me Introduce You To My Friends
Rating: 3.8
So, I'm From Barcelona, you've got 29 members, yes? And your music is decidedly, categorically twee? But you're not The Polyphonic Spree? I'm confused. Let's start over:
I'm From Barcelona, and their terrible first LP Let Me Introduce You To My Friends, all started when one of their 29 members slipped writer Brian Howe at Pitchfork Media a bribe to rate their album an 8.4, permitting it to slip like a slimey piece of poo into the gold toilet of their Best New Music section. And while he was at it, Howe also found time to laud their forgettable single (wait for it...) "Let Me Introduce Me To Your Friends" with an unusual five-star rating.
Pitchfork's last over-hyped twee pop album, The Best Party Ever by The Boy Least Likely To, was at least "decent" and "somewhat enjoyable" (see review in my mind, circa 7 months ago). Listening to I'm From Barcellona sing "I have built a tree house / a just a you and me house" over and over on (wait for it ...) "Tree House" made me want to crash my car into a wall. The song is representative of the way that I'm From Barcellona deftly strips twee-pop of any edgy artistic statement that the form is capable of delivering. For instance, when Mates of State sing "I wonder if I could tie the ocean to your knees?" on "Experiment", the surrealistic pretension of the lyrics clash nicely with the low-budget all-keyboard and melody musical style. Similarly, the pop of The Pipettes is an interestly historical mimic of 60s doo-wop groups. But I'm From Barcelona deploy childish lyrics that match far too well with their relatively consummate twee compositions to be at all interesting or not grating.
So, let's recap. I'm From Barcelona: not the Polyphonic Spree and not at all good. Fin.
Posted by Shark 2006-09-16 12:56:55 (posted simultaneously in Jo-tunes)
Unearth Playing The Fillmore with 1-4 Other Bands or Conditions
In my LiveNation concert update email, I was confused by this entry:
Unearth with Bleeding Through, Through The Eyes of The Dead, Terror and Animosity
The Fillmore
San Francisco, CA
Friday, September 15 at 6:30 PM
On Sale Now!
Bleeding Through, Through The Eyes of The Dead seem to be following in the footsteps of ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead with their ponderous, flyer-enveloping band name. But are Terror and Animosity back together again after that whole thing with Animosity's ex-wife last summer? I think I would like this show better if it was
Or is it just that Unearth With Bleeding are having a bad day and they're really going to play their show at the Fillmore with terror and animosity, and maybe even a little unbilled Love?
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-14 07:03:05
Effort To Search for Shady Parking Spot Causes Shark to Worry About the Onset of Old Age
Today, for the first time ever, I made an effort to find a shady spot to park my car. I recall this as something that my mom used to do all the time when I was a kid: park 5,000 miles from the store in order to find the one spot upon which an anemic parking lot tree casts a delicate shadow. Now, I'm not that bad. But I did PULL OUT of a spot that I was already in to move into another one further away with shade.
Also, I told BFord a few days ago that "I think I'm drinking too much TO HAVE fun, instead of drinking WHEN I'm having fun." This one pretty much speaks for itself. I need to get my shit together.
Posted by Shark 2006-09-13 17:19:26
Cormac McCarthy Report
1. Just finished No Country for Old Men. It was good. I'd say it's probably my second favorite McCarthy book I've read, but I still haven't read Suttree or Cities of the Plain. It's a real page-turner, but very distinctly a product of McCarthy's style and dark outlook on the world. There are some passages that could almost have been copied longhand out of Blood Meridian. I don't know why more authors don't just copy out of Blood Meridian. They would probably get more ass.
2. McCarthy has a new book coming out on September 26 called The Road. It is a post-apocalyptic Mad Max type thing, from what I read on Amazon. Sounds uplifting. I'll definitely read it. He also has ANOTHER book coming out October 24.
3. I just found out the Coen brothers are in post-production on the movie of NCFOM. Awesome. I'm disappointed that they didn't choose to make Blood Meridian instead, because I think they would have done well with it, but overall I am happy. The movie stars Tommy Lee Jones, Woody Harrelson and Josh Brolin. It's interesting because the last I heard Tommy Lee owned the movie rights to Blood Meridian. And that crappy The Three Burials of M____ _____ was pretty Blood Meridianesque. I wish he would stop beating around the bush and just do it.
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-11 13:32:25
Frisbee Injury Report
While going for the two-man consecutive completed frisbee toss record, Johnny D. threw me a lazy wobbler that would have dropped in front of an old man walking back from Opera In The Park about half-way between us if I hadn't made a sprinting dive at it, successfully saving the 27th toss. But in the process I somehow jammed my left pinky finger into the ground and fucked it up. Now it is swollen like a blood sausage and it hurts to operate the clutch on my bike and type "a."
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-11 11:33:30
Man Fall Down ...
When I was in the office bathroom and viddyed some dude pubes as he zipped up his fly after taking a leak I realized: you know what would be cool about being a gay (hereinafter "ghey") dude? Whenever you go to the bathroom it's like you were a straight guy in the women's bathroom. Everyday is like a walking, breathing Porky's scene!
Posted by Shark 2006-09-08 19:50:19
Eyebrows. Moving.
Excerpt from Cormac McCarthy's latest book, No Country For Old Men:
What are you goin to do?
He opened the drawer and took the .45 out and ejected the clip and checked it and put it back and put the pistol in his belt. He turned and looked at her.
I'm fixin to go do somethin dumbern hell but I'm goin anyways. If I dont come back tell Mother I love her.
Your mother's dead Llewelyn.
Well I'll tell her myself then.
War is God.
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-08 10:29:11
Odd and Potentially Objectionable Phrases from Verdi's Opera 'Un Ballo in Maschera'
"The herb grows there, among the stones."
"There is the scaffold, and there is the magic herb."
"What a thrill I feel within me!"
"Come, Gustav! Shine your love upon me!"
"He defiled my wife!"
"Will you come to my house in the morning?" "Do you seek satisfaction?" "If you come, you'll find out."
"Fierce and swift, our revenge will fall on his head!"
"O, Destiny! O, Destiny!"
"King of Hell, plunge through the air! Release your thunderbolt, and come through my roof!"
Posted by The Quail, 2006-09-06 13:30:02
Eddie Money, you bastard.
To the every expanding library of songs PETE totally though were sung but other people, today we add "Shakin'" by Eddie Money. I thought this song was by Journey. It always pissed me off that such an awesome Journey song was never listed in the song book of any karaoke establishment. Now I know. Great fucking song.
Posted by PETE 2006-09-06 11:50:22
Mace... Harmless Mace
I'm flying home to Chicago tomorrow morning and I went to check the TSA site to see what types to crap I still can't bring on planes. I thought I had heard something about you not being able to bring laptops for a while... and I'll need my laptop because at some point while at home I need to find the time to do traffic school. Anyhow, I found this announcement, to which I have added my own emphasis:
All liquids and gels – including shampoo, toothpaste, perfume, hair gel, suntan lotion and all other items with similar consistency ARE PROHIBITED from carry-on baggage and the security checkpoint. Please pack these items in your checked baggage. Carrying liquids of any sort to the screening checkpoint will cause you delays, and will most likely result in the item being confiscated.
Don’t let a prohibited item ruin your trip. You are permitted to travel with most items, but you must put them in your luggage and check them with your airline. Certain items are prohibited from carry-on luggage for the overall security of air travelers. Prohibited items obviously include weapons, explosives, and incendiaries, but also items that are seemingly harmless and may be used as weapons like hammers, bats, or mace. You may not bring these items to security checkpoints.
Mace is "seemingly harmless"? Baseball bats are "seemingly harmless"? What else is mace used for? Are there other applications I was not aware of? And obviously you have not seen Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure in which Genghis Khan and his Louisville Slugger totally ravage Osmond's Sporting Goods.
"Don’t let a prohibited item ruin your trip." Like insulin?
Don't worry TSA, I'm not diabetic.
Posted by PETE 2006-09-06 11:41:58
Happy Belated Birthday Jo-Tel
It passed without incident or farfare but on August 31st, the Jo-Tel entered its third year. Pretty good for something that Shark predicted would last three months. I don't really have much to say other than let's make September a resurgent month for the Jo-Tel. Since our peak average of between 450-500 unique visits a day, we've fallen off a bit, and Shark has done a valiant job of keeping us afloat, but I can't in good conscience allow that to continue.
My problem is I have a very interesting life for the most part, and plenty to complain about, which is the lynchpin of any good PETE post, but I can't complain about work in any public forum due to various confidentiality agreements that I have signed. I think I can say that I work my ass off for very little money and coming home after a 10 or 12-hour day of intensely focusing on umpteen thousand small tasks, all of which must be executed with perfection lest I incur the wrath of my superiors, it's all I can do to cook myself a meal before I pass out on my couch with all the lights in my house on. Rarely do I feel hilarious, and on those rare night when I do feel hilarious, I do Tae-Bo. But I'm done making excuses. Somehow, when I moved to LA I forgot about what's really important: the fact that we're so much cooler and funnier than the average person. I mean, in these past few months Lindsay Lohan has gone from borderline to a complete trainwreck and nary a peep has been heard from me. She flashed her naked vagina the other day for God's sake. I'm pretty sure even Tara Reid has managed to hide her vagina from the public eye for the most part.
But I'm not the only one at fault... Suri Cruise? Hip E.? Hello? Fucking Suri Cruise man!!! Get with the fucking program.
However, I'm thinking if Hip E. and I can both pull it together this month, things could really turn around. Johnny D is newly single. The Quail is... has a new cell phone? Shasta's coming up. And the comments section is looking like the Cafe Society in Paris. (I call Voltaire!!! (I drink about as much coffee as he was said to have drank so that means dibs are mine)).
So let's make it happen guys. For the Jo-Tel's sake.
Posted by PETE 2006-09-06 11:00:20
Steve Irwin... what a way to go.
I was deeply saddened by the news this week that beloved naturalist and TV show host, Steve Irwin, know to the world as The Crocodile Hunter, was killed by a stingray spine in the fucking heart.
I'm being serious. That really, really sucks. Here is a picture I found of a stingray's barb:
And here is some info on said barb:
Never underestimate the penetrating ability of a stingray’s barb, even on the smallest of stingrays. The stingray’s barb is designed to penetrate virtually all sorts of dense materials, including wood and leather. And as unbelievable as it may seem, it’s been documented that large stingrays are able to drive a barb through a boat’s wooden planks or completely through a persons arm or leg.
According to Dr. Shipp, when a stingray strikes, it either removes its barb entirely, or breaks it off inside of the victim. When this occurs, doctors must probe the wound to make sure all particles have been removed, so the injury will not result in gangrene. In cases where the barb deeply penetrated, the wound must be enlarged to make sure it is properly cleaned.
Aside from the pain and serious laceration caused by the razor-sharp barb, which can sever arteries and possibly an Achilles tendon, a poison is released that can produce a drastic decrease in blood pressure, increased pulse, dizziness and possible shock.
POSSIBLE shock? "Oh... look. That silly stingray just deposited a 6-inch piece of razor-sharp bone into my chest cavity. I am vexed." So basically what the stingray's poison does is magnify all the the symptoms one would normally experience if they were stabbed by say, a knife or a rusty screwdriver: dizziness, increased pulse, etc.
The only reason I can even make a joke about it without feeling like a terrible person is that Steve Irwin was one of the lucky few who got to wake up each day and do what he loved. He knew that being around dangerous animals all the time, he was taking a calculated risk and he probably figured that eventually, he was going to get killed or at least lose an appendage unlike say, the Grizzly Man who was just a moron. Compared to getting eaten by a crocodile or or getting bitten by any one of the insanely poisonous snakes in Australia, I'd say all things considered he got off pretty easy.
Still though, that's a shitty way to die. He was only 44. The Jo-Tel offers our sincerest condolences to Steve Irwin's family.
Posted by PETE 2006-09-06 11:08:11
Computers
I'm convinced that the only useful thing that computers can do is make those star-like spikes around a circle for emphasis. Well, that and everything.
Posted by Shark 2006-09-05 21:33:06
Does Hillel House Have Sports Teams?
If so, their fans can say,
"Rolllllllllllllllll Onnnnnnnn Jew Beeeaaaarrrrrrsssss!!!!"
Posted by Hip E. 2006-09-02 04:14:49
P.S. Yo - Semite!
Being and Somethingness
Down in Mexico
The sun's so hot you forget to go home.
I guess I'll have to go.
-James Taylor
If you think about it, it was a no-brainer Andy Dufresne to break out of Shawshank prison and escape to Mexico. Although a theme of the movie was that long-time inmates become conditioned to living within the negative society of prison, for our purposes prison sucks and Mexico rules and Andy got there and the sea is so goddamn blue-green when Red finally finds him in the last scene….
A similar escape would be, for me, not such a no-brainer. It would be cool if I was in some sort of Stalinist gulag or something. Then I'd be out in a second. But, as it is, I'm not exactly sure how much my life sucks and whether it sucks enough to make a run for Zihujantaneo. And, importantly, if it sucks, will it just suck now, or will it suck for the rest of my life. In other words, is my current interest in breaking from material society and following less disciplined life-paths a purely youthful desire that my adult self will look back upon with learned disapprobation? Or should I follow my impulses now, rather than those of my jaded adulthood. Or what I predict will be those of my jaded adulthood.
I considered lots of prospects. Thailand for short time. Thailand for a long time. Research attorney for a short time. Portland, Philadelphia, rucksack wanderer. File clerk. Brazil now. Brazil later. Brazil ever. Brazil forever. Writer.
My problem is that I'm not idealistic. I know that I am the bajillionth person to want to leave an office job to live a life of adventure and spit out a few Great American Novels while I'm at it. But still, I understand that idealism has its place and that the old cliché, echoed nicely by Modest Mous on "One Chance", is really the only philosophical or intellectual truth that means a damn: namely, we only have one chance.
The Puma and I were discussing such issues during his sojourn in SF a few weeks ago, at which point he pitched to me his idea of the Brazilian writers colony. In a recent email string I questioned his plans to move to Brazil with Little Mex, the servent, as perhaps signaling his abandonment of the Brazil plans. The Puma's return email is provided below in its vivid entirety:
It's all part of the plan, Shark. Mexico is cheap. My plan is to work as a paramedic in San Diego while living in Mexico , thereby cutting my cost of living by about 66% and saving all my extra money for the next few years until I have enough to make the move. When that day comes, I'm getting on the plane and never looking back. Make no mistake about it Shark: every move I make, every plan that crosses my mind, it's all focused on my eventual repatriation to Brazil . Every day I become more and more sure. I've set an absolute deadline for myself. On June 10, 2013, if I am not already living there, I will be boarding my flight with a final destination of Salvador da Bahia , Brazil , one-way ticket in hand. Will I spend the next few years living like a hermit? Yes. Am I willing to cut out any form of luxury from my life? Already done. Am I willing to do whatever it takes to make enough money to make this happen? Shark I swear to you that even if it means working as a prison guard and spending my days risking being doused with blood and urine cocktails and being shanked with a sharpened spoon at mealtime so that I can live the rest of my life where I want to instead of wasting my life as some bitter, unfulfilled office weasel, I'm going to do it.
What kind of life do you think awaits men like us here in the US ? Writing the definitive fiction work of the early 21st century? Personal satisfaction? None of the above. How about a life in which success is quantified by the material possessions you accumulate, where all your friends and colleagues one by one get controlling bitch girlfriends who turn into controlling bitch wives and isolate themselves except for the occasional dinner party that begins promptly at 7 and ends by 10. After all, Shark, we need to get to bed early. There's a long day of "keeping up with the Joneses" ahead of us.
I want you to imagine something for me, Shark. It's 10:30pm on a Wednesday night in early December. Spring is giving way to summer and a certain energy fills the warm tropical air, already smooth and rich, yet tempered by the gentle breeze that blows almost imperceptibly off the ocean. On this particular night, the moon hangs placidly over the Baia de Todos os Santos, its shape a waxing gibbous that belies the full moon to come in the days that follow. The moonlight glistens leisurely upon the shore below, and the water sweeps against the rocks so gently that each wave generates a sound barely audible even on the hillside immediately overlooking the bay. On the hillside, just beyond earshot of the waves, between two squat apartment buildings whose facades have grown more stately from the years, the hillside grass gives way to a terrace of jacaranda trees surrounding an aged metal awning, mostly covered by moss and creeping vines. Suspended from the awning is a single bare light bulb, illuminating the four tattered wooden tables below. A bar stands in the corner, equipped with only the necessities: four bottles of liquor and a refrigerator: 1960's vintage, knee-high with the door on top. The fridge is filled with tall brown bottles of cerveja Antarctica , each one covered in a hard layer of frost, testament to the icy contents within.
A small grey gecko scampers from beneath the refrigerator in the direction of the centermost table, his minute frame casting a correspondingly small shadow on the hard dirt floor. The reptile crawls swiftly up the leg of one of the tables, but his movements go unnoticed by the table's occupant. A voluminous book sits atop the table, open to a page somewhere near the middle but far enough from the end that the end is far from near. The man at the table is leaning over the book. His eyes focus on the crisp black letters on the yellowing pages but his mind is lost in thought, immersed in the scene described in the text he reads. To his right is a narrow path, wooden steps imbedded in the ground, many twisted and dislocated by the tree roots that run beneath. The path winds further up the hillside and quickly disappears from sight as it rounds one particularly large tree draped in vines that have grown to cover its powerful branches. Four ice cubes melt atop two crushed lime wedges in the empty glass atop the table just beyond the man's right hand. He hasn't been here long, but after three days spend writing virtually non-stop, he needed to get out. The inspiration that had hit him roughly 72 hours before had begun to wane and his hands had long since been besieged by cramps. Nothing like Proust and a cold caipirinha to restore his creative energies, the man thought.
The bartender, who had spent the past 20 minutes leaning on the bar, ear hovering near a portable radio, has been engrossed in the soccer game. Bahia vs. Grmio. He notices the man's empty glass and calls out "Mais um?" "Mais um sim" responds the man, without shifting his gaze from the open book. The bartender goes to work. He grabs a fistfull of ice from the icebox and dumps it into a mason jar and pours over the ice a generous amount of Cachaa 51 from the open bottle on the shelf. He spoons heaping
teaspoons of sugar over the ice as well. Sweetness to dull the burn of the bitter alcohol. Finally he slices a lime into quarters and one by one crushes the wedges into the jar. The lime juice washes the sugar grain by grain from the ice cubes and into the growing mixture below. He tosses the crushed limes atop the ice, affixes the cap to the jar and shakes. The ice rattles in the jar and momentarily adds an almost primal overtone to the silent night air. The bartender places the jar on the bar with a heavy thud. From the shelf under the bar the bartender grabs another glass from his mismatching collection. He rubs a spot off of the glass with the towel in his belt, and places the glass on the bar next to the mason jar. The outside of the jar is already foggy with the fast forming condensation on the outside. He grabs the mason jar and gives it one more good shake before removing the top and pouring the contents into the glass.The man at the table is still staring intently at his book and seems almost surprised when the bartender drops his new drink on the table in front of him. The bartender picks up the man's old glass and is already on his way back to the bar before the man manages to pull himself back into the real world. "Valeu", the man says. Thanks. When he first came here his Portuguese was shaky. Maybe non-existent would be a better way to describe it. Back then, even asking where the bathroom was was an act of monumental effort. Now, though, it flowed fluidly and effortlessly. He took a sip of the cold new drink. It was harsh, the flavors still raw on the ice, but the best caipirinhas always are. Soon the bitterness of the cachaa would meld with the sweetness of the sugar and the tartness of the fresh latin american limes and the chill of the melting ice, creating the perfect mixture. The man laughs to himself as he takes another sip.
You know who that man is Shark? If we stay in the US , it's neither of us. Bottom line, Shark: America is highly overrated. America is the land of opportunity. Material opportunity. If you want to drive a Mercedes and live in a McMansion and dress your kids in Abercrombie clothing, by all means stay here in the US . Have fun with that one. Brazil is also the land of opportunity. Cultural opportunity. I don't want a Mercedes. I don't want a McMansion. I want to live a lifestyle in which enjoyment of life is not only accepted but expected. Brazil takes in more immigrants every year than it sends out. There's a reason for that.
I'm not someone who is easily swayed. And I'm astute enough to realize that I'd be giving up a lot by just up and leaving for those "squat apartments" along the Brazilian coast. But I haven't found a rule book yet on how to live a great life. The existentialists basically burned all those books, replacing them with Being and Nothingness. Which is too boring to read. As such, bright imagery and hopeful yearning seem like equally good reasons for doing something as calculated consideration. Between grief and nothing, I'll take Brazil.
Posted by Shark 2006-09-01 17:46:19
"The emotion of blood is the twin,
I wish you were the twin."
[Hip E. random old journal entry, Episode I: 2002]
That weird thought just literally popped into my head as I was waking from a dream. The dream is long. It is at a huge festival thing with tons of kids. But it wasn't a rock concert. First we were sitting in a big grass field among throngs. We had a big group & we were cool. I had my long hair in a ponytail? No, more like dreads in a ponytail & I was explaining to Walloch & somebody something about surviving on fish in the ocean. Like if you catch a fish, it's always dinner, never breakfast. We kept getting interrupted by dealings with these hot batches that came & sat with us. Pliska & I and some other cool dude - maybe Kosbough - each had a hottie.
There was a huge seventies looking concrete pool fenced off & about 2 feet deep for people to walk their dogs in.
The second thing we did at this festival was later we went to this area where there were huge white carnival tents like at the Rose Festival. At this point I knew this whole festival was about something to do with our troops overseas. There was this one tent we decided to get in line for, and I think now I was with Karl Strecker & a couple other kids I don't know, although I knew them in the dream. The tent was for grieving (greaving)? for people who knew soldiers had been killed. Inside, at first there were people kind of milling like @ Shoreline on the concourse. Further in, in the center was a room where they were playing happy fanciful music like a nursery or a nursery rhyme (that's how fanciful the music was) and everyone was just jumping & dancing around, like a spread out mosh pit on E. I was giddy. Later it was just a few of us that I knew. I was w/o a bird, but this dude & chick started making out drunkenly on the couch that was on the ground. The other birds - now I knew they were Irish - were watching & making fun. They thought the dude was fingering her & they were very lude in their gesturing but hey, they were Irish birds. But the dude had his hand going into her shirt from the neck & now it looked like her writhing wasn't pleasure but drunkenness & I was standing over her & she started to puke. But the main feeling about the second part of the dream was that the big festival was for supporting the troops and we were going to the happy dancing place for healing people who were distraught because their friends had been killed in action. Weird.
Posted by Hip E. 2002-02-06 Morning
The drool is still wet
on my shirt from the second half of my vanpool ride home today. I finished In Search of Lost Time, or How I Decided To Write This Book, by Proust, in the first half. It was good. Here's a good part:
I knew that my brain was like a basin of rock rich in minerals, in which lay vast and varied ores of great price. But should I have time to exploit them? For two reasons I was the only person who could do this: with my death would disappear the one and only engineer who possessed the skill to extract these minerals and -- more that that -- the whole stratum itself. Yet presently, when I left this party to go home, it only needed a chance collision between the cab which I should take and another car for my body to be destroyed, thus forcing my mind, from which life instantly would ebb away, to abandon for ever and ever the new ideas which at this moment, not yet having had time to place them within the safety of a book, it anxiously embraced with the fragile protection of its own pulpy and quivering substance.
this is how I've often felt about my journal, while only about 2% of the things in my journal are precious metals; the rest are tailings. I just got a new journal, but then I put a sticker that looks like an acorn on the front, and I'm afraid it might be too cute to write dark gothic evil in. That gives me an idea though. I should have a regular post on the jo-tel of a random journal entry from my sordid past. This person I met is an artist and I have been reminded about how I used to define myself by not doing things like other people. For instance, I once wore a Hawaiian shirt underneath a soccer jersey to a party! And it was my custom to always wear two different colored soccer socks to practice. Nowadays, sometimes I forget what makes me so different for weeks at a time. I think I will cleanse my mind with mushrooms before it gets too cold outside, but drugs aren't the panacea. I need to play more sports, and hang out in different places. Walking in the woods at night would be a start. If I could get some good voices to talk to me in my head that would be ideal, as long as it didn't interfere too much with my work. See that's my problem, I actually would like to be really good at my job. My life since the end of college in a sense has been a constant struggle to get away from the lollapalooza candy show act that was my interior mental life, because it is hemenuetrically apposed to getting shit done. So my life from here on out is a constant struggle to both get shit done and make up words to describe the fancy colors that I'd better not stop seeing, because if I do I'll know that the Hippie is dead.
But for tonight, look out Sickballs, you are going DOWN.
Posted by Hip E 2006-08-31 17:51:16
*UPDATE* Sickballs went down tonight, 4-2. Vote For Pedro: clap clap clapclapclap.
Comments:
From 62.150.40.142 - 12/6/06 10:22 PM
From 82.137.247.131 - 12/6/06 5:03 PM
From Johnny D [67.188.239.124] - 9/29/06 10:53 AM
From Shark [67.188.239.124] - 9/28/06 11:35 AM
From maupow [24.10.242.52] - 9/27/06 4:48 PM
Follow in the footsteps of the greats, Gabbeh...booze and drugs til you're dead, and if you're still around at the end of next summer, you can always go out Cobain style.
Oh, and happy birthday.
From Load [12.180.32.66] - 9/26/06 2:23 PM
From Load [12.180.32.66] - 9/26/06 2:22 PM
From Hip - 9/26/06 12:26 PM
From Gabbeh [65.172.33.187] - 9/26/06 9:35 AM
From Gabbeh [65.172.33.187] - 9/25/06 1:36 PM
From Stickler [70.40.104.81] - 9/24/06 10:46 PM
From linda [63.170.97.131] - 9/24/06 2:21 PM
What's the worst thing about having sex with children?
Getting blood on your clownsuit.
From Stickler [70.40.104.81] - 9/24/06 2:20 PM
From Shark - 9/24/06 2:06 PM
Stickler, per your request:
???
From Shark - 9/24/06 1:43 PM
From RB [64.121.69.205] - 9/24/06 2:43 AM
From J-Dub [58.8.186.71] - 9/23/06 1:44 AM
Whats the best part about showering with an 14 year old?
Pulling her hair back and pretending she is a boy.
Whats the best part about sleeping with 28 year olds?
There are 20 of them.
Whats the worst part about sleeping with an 14 year old?
Hearing her pelvic bone crack.
From Thrill [198.199.50.254] - 9/22/06 4:24 PM
From Hip - 9/22/06 10:54 AM
From J-Dub [58.8.183.162] - 9/22/06 7:34 AM
From Brewdogggggggggggggggggggg [72.83.88.77] - 9/21/06 10:54 PM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 9:52 PM
From Reid [65.113.47.50] - 9/21/06 4:21 PM
Johnny D I hope you're wasted right now!!!!!
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 4:06 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 3:49 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 3:19 AM
I can say one thing for sure... but with the amount of alcohol I plan on consuming this weekend, for sure won't be able to say anything.
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 2:57 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 2:16 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 2:09 AM
Persevere Johnny D, Persever.
Constant Dilligence
Constant Dilligence
Constant Dilligence
Constant Dilligence
Constant Dilligence
Constant Dilligence
Constant Dilligence
Constant Dilligence
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 2:01 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 1:36 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 1:13 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 12:50 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 12:46 AM
From Johnny D [67.109.58.150] - 9/21/06 12:23 AM
I'm coming to you live while I'm at work. Live blogging my deliverable. I have 26 miles of road to plot before leaving. So far I've plotted about 7. This invloves setting up the layout sheets and making any minor tweaks on the roads. I'll keep you posted.
From Hip E. [146.23.4.23] - 9/20/06 4:33 PM
From J-Dub [58.8.191.214] - 9/20/06 3:04 AM
Johnny D, I heard the good news through the grapevine. Congradulations!
Get your drinking cap on, because it's on like Donkey Kong.
From J-Dub [58.8.191.214] - 9/20/06 12:05 AM
Tanks in Bangkok! J-Dub brings you exclusive photos:
http://calithais.blogspot.com/
P.S. J-Dub is okay. He just hopes he can make it back to the States safely come Monday.
From Load [12.180.32.66] - 9/19/06 11:28 PM
From Shark - 9/19/06 10:13 PM
From Shark - 9/19/06 9:56 PM
From Hip - 9/19/06 9:36 AM
From Stickler [70.40.104.81] - 9/19/06 1:53 AM
From Gabbeh [65.172.33.187] - 9/18/06 12:46 PM
From Hip E. [24.7.61.116] - 9/15/06 11:48 AM
From Pliska in Portland [149.175.207.89] - 9/13/06 4:12 PM
From Load [12.180.32.66] - 9/12/06 7:53 PM
From linda [63.170.97.131] - 9/12/06 7:03 PM
From Hollywood [66.218.58.67] - 9/12/06 2:53 PM
From Gabbeh [65.172.33.187] - 9/12/06 7:45 AM
From Reid [67.188.239.124] - 9/12/06 1:01 AM
Man I wish everyone I'm friends with got to go with me to my agency's Christmas party.....why???
Oh, I forgot to mention it's in Monte Carlo. Oh yeah, on the French Riviera. Wow, sucks not to be me. :)
All I have to say is this........long live Web 2.0!!!!!!!!!!! uuuuhhhh!!!!!!!!!! We've been promised a James Bond style paty with a 5 star hotel overlooking the Mediterranean.
Oh yeah...uuuhhhh uhhhh......oh yeah
From Linda [63.170.97.131] - 9/11/06 7:46 PM
"I wish he would stop beating around the bush and just do it. "
That's what she said.
From Brat-tany [64.122.14.76] - 9/11/06 6:48 PM
From Hip E. [144.5.224.142] - 9/11/06 3:54 PM
Everything I do, I do it extreme.
From Thrill [198.199.50.254] - 9/11/06 3:48 PM
From The Big Kat [66.75.250.253] - 9/8/06 4:01 PM
I think there is some confusion in the Steve Irwin post as to what clinical shock is. Shock, as a medical term, refers to hypoperfusion or in other words the insufficient flow of oxygen rich blood to the body and its vital organs, most importantly the brain. There are a number of types of shock, all of which have different origins but the same symptoms and dangers, including such favorites as cardiogenic shock (the failure of the heart to pump sufficient blood) and septic shock (the contamination of the blood resulting in decreased oxygen carrying capacity). It sounds as if the poison exuded by the stingray acts as a vasodilator, i.e. it causes the blood vessels to expand to such an extent that the body no longer is able to pump enough blood to remain viable.
The result is akin to what an old man would experience if he took Cialis to bone a mexican hooker then, after he threw it in her ass, started to get lightheaded and feel pain in the left side of his chest and in response took a tablet of the nitroglycerin that his doctor had prescribed him due to his history of heart problems. Unfortunately the old man forgot that nitro is contraindicated when the patient has taken another vasodilator (including Cialis) within the last 24 hours. The old man's veins, arteries, and capilaries all dilate to such an extent that the volume of blood flowing through is reduced to a trickle. His skin becomes cool and wet, his vision goes in and out, his systolic blood pressure plummets below 80 and he passes out before he can even blow his last load. Now we're left with a mexican hooker alone in a room with a naked old man whose chances of ever being revived slip further and further away with every second that passes. Unless this is some magic hooker who carries loaded needles of epi and atropine along with a defibrulator next to the condoms in her makeup bag, six minutes from now the old man's brain will have been so damaged by the lack of oxygen that he will be clinically dead and all the hooker will be left with is a wrinkly old corpse with a huge boner in a hotel room that she uses too frequently to leave from without being recognized. I hope she made him pay first.
From Hip - 9/8/06 1:14 PM
For Gabbeh:
From Hip E. [144.5.224.142] - 9/8/06 11:26 AM
I think I look quite dashing, really.
From Gabbeh [65.172.33.176] - 9/8/06 10:34 AM
From Reid [65.113.47.50] - 9/7/06 5:11 PM
From gafferland - 9/6/06 2:02 PM
Instead, get your face into new KCF Shredders - juicy iceberg lettuce and tangy mayonnaise served in a bag. It'll rock your world!
And if the regular portion isn't enough, then just gigantisize it - for 39 cents more, you get a whole pound of iceberg lettuce and three cups of mayo.
And the KCF Schredder Kids Meal gives you a medium Shredder, a small milk, cole slaw and a rice pudding dessert cup. Kids under 12 get free "How Stella Got Her Groove Back" action figures.
Shredder Italiano comes with crisp iceberg lettuce and herb mayo.
Southwestern Shredder has cool iceberg lettuce and sour cream.
KCF Shredder. Get the shred in your head.
From Pliska in Portland [149.175.206.41] - 9/5/06 12:20 PM
From J-Dub [58.8.184.126] - 9/5/06 5:45 AM
My bad on the location of “Pete and Katon’s Drinks and Wings”. Personally, I would love for you guys to start this. But on one condition – there is plenty of milk, coconut rum, and Rupert Holmes on the boom-box.
Your right PUMA. My point about claiming America to be the “best” is based on my experiences of seeing the large disparities between the poor and rich in South East Asia. Of course, no one in the upper class desires to leave their places of power, wealth, and comfort in their home countries. But these are the same people that tend to perpetuate the corruption and use their power to keep the poor in poverty.
Nowhere else in the world can so many come from nothing and make so much in one generation. Despite its faults (I disagree with plenty of values that American’s esteem), America produces an unprecedented level of opportunities in education, economic mobility, and social acceptance. For these reasons (among many others), I think America is an amazing country and I feel very blessed to have been raised there. It saddens me that many more people don’t feel the same way about America.
To your second comment, obviously there are differences between South America and Asia, but I had never considered the ethnicity aspect, where a white person could fully assimilate into Brazilian society. This would make for a much different experience (assuming one has mastered the language and customs when moving to Brazil). I have no idea what this would be like.
It’s interesting that there are two sides to being white in Asia. On the one hand you pay more for almost everything. Even government regulated prices have different prices for locals and foreigners, and negotiating is standard practice for everything without a price tag on it. But there are lots of benefits as well that outweigh the negatives.
Despite knowing that America is an amazing country and yet not knowing what it’s like to fully integrate into Asian society to the point of being treated exactly like a local, I now consider Asia my home much more than I do America. After 16 months away (excluding 2 weeks last Christmas), it will be strange returning to the US in September to vast selections of beer, enormous cars on the highways, loud and obnoxious conversations of strangers, and $6 slices of pizza. I have fallen in love with South East Asia and recommend everyone to come visit, as I will be out here for at least another some odd years.
From O Gatão (The Big Kat) [66.75.250.253] - 9/4/06 2:56 PM
Actually, now that I think about it, I have another very key disagreement with John's post, pertaining to his first point that America is still somehow the "best" country in the world. While I am sure he was telling the truth as he sees it, I don't think that the Cambodian or Thai experience is necessarily the same as that of every other group in the world. My experience in Brazil was quite different. People weren't enamored with the idea of America to nearly that extent. Some showed interest, in much the same way I show interest when I meet a white person from South Africa. I wonder what their life is like in their native land, but in no way do I desire to emulate it. On the whole and with few exceptions, most people who had any money in Brazil had the same thing to say about America: okay place, but I'd never want to live there. I can't tell you how many times I heard it. Most of them had been to America, either on vacation or studying abroad or perhaps even working for a year or two, and all said they'd go back for vacation, but none expressed any desire to live here. A perfect example is my friend Luiz. He's been to America numerous times and while he thinks it's a good spot to pass a couple of his government-mandated 30 days of vacation, he has no desire whatsoever to live here.
I'll admit that my experiences dealt exclusively with upper-middle to upper class Brazilians and that perhaps among many of the poor, opinions would have been different. However, I have no intention of joining that class. That's why Shark and I are going to spend the next five or so years working our asses off, so that when we go we have enough dollars to permanently stack the deck in our favor.
Another comment I'd make is that John's experience in SE Asia is certain to be differnt than what one would and could expect in South America. Yes, both are developing lands, but to varying degrees. While Brazil does have problems with poverty, it also has a robust economy and a strong infrastructure. It might have one foot in the third world, but the other is solidly in the first. Furthermore, as the product of European colonization, it's a much easier place to integrate than anywhere in Asia. Simply put, there are lots of white Brazilians (the majority of the population, in fact), while there are, by definition, no white Thais or Cambodians. Just being white doesn't immediately make one stand out as a foreigner and with sufficient and advanced mastery of the language, one can expect to be treated just like a native. In my opinion it's hard to overstate the value of this. It means the difference between permanent status as a foreigner and full integration into one's new society.
John's certainly the resident expert on living abroad and on most issues I'd defer to his expertise, but in this instance I think his view, as valid as it is to SE Asia, is not universally applicable.
From O Gatão (The Big Kat) [66.75.250.253] - 9/4/06 2:25 PM