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personal

What I do, how I do it

Location: 13:00 yest, E on Williamsburg, 17:00 W on 59th St
Mood: rushed
Music: In this world it’s hard to get it right

A recent exhibition at the Grand Central

My leg’s not fallen off. This is a good sign. You’ll be apprised, should the situation change.

Still sick though. Can’t shake this damn cough.

———-

Went out to Brooklyn today for a potential gig. Never know if it’ll actually happen but y’gotta go for every thing out there when you eat what you kill.

Sometimes y’land a whale; most times it’s just sardines.

———-

My brother’s trying to convince me to get a Mac. Problem’s that I’m so useda doing what I do, how I do it.

Rain once said,

Imagine if y’go to a bar and there’re beautiful women everywhere. Y’walk up to the hottest broad, say something, and she loves it. And everything y’say to every women works.

In real life the bar sucks, the women are only ok and nuthing y’ever say to them works.

The first part’s like working with programs on a mac, the second’s the crap you use.

———-

Halloween’s coming up. Dunno what it’s like where you are, but here in the Big City, it’s carte blanche for the girlies to tart it up.

Halloween rocks.

YASYCTAI: It’s time to buy a costume. Y’gotta, cause if y’wait any longer, you’ll spent $70 for a jedi robe that doesn’t fit properly and go to a party where it’s all dudes who did the same things. (15 online mins/0.25 pts)

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personal

Clear

 

Went for a walk with my girl downtown this past weekend. Maybe that’s what made me sick again. Was worth it though. There’re few things in life as a walk down Central Park and Broadway on a nice day. Saw a girl in a cat costume with a hula hoop.

Been taking all of the junk I found cleaning my cellar and selling it on ebay, craigslist, you name it. Found this one dress with a price tag that said $14,000 in there and more computers than y’can shake a stick at.

Some things I remember, some things I have no idea how they got there. Story of my life, yeah?

In A Study in Scarlet, Sherlock Holmes said to Watson that the mind’s like an attic – you can only have so much crap in it before you run outta room.

Einstein echoed this when he said that, Never memorize what you can look up in books.

But I digress, point is that I’m tossing a lotta old stuff to make room for new stuff.

Still sick – my head’s stuffy. But I’m trying to clear things out. Wanna unclutter my mind and suppose that starts with uncluttering everything else.

Location: 16:00 yest, Grand Central
Mood: still @#$@#$ sick
Music: Singing to my pillow, I woke up out of tune.

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personal

Public Service Announcement 2009

How to learn a foreign language as an adult

Workmen fixing an escalator in a metro station in Washington DC

For those of you that speak geek: Spent the last 96 hours figuring out why I only got three clear QAM channels – turns out a weak signal and a kinked coax cable will waste four days of your life.

Picked up a signal amplifier, and some new cable and now I’m in business.

Knee-deep in cables, chili and rum. It’s the only way for a geek to spend Labor Day

———-

Speaking of speaking in a foreign language, Federico Fellini once said that, “A different language is a different vision of life.”

As promised and as a supplement to last year.

One of the things about being Chinese-American is that a vast majority of my friends are at least bilingual. Heartgirl and KG Betty speak several.

Me? Was always crappy at languages. My French teacher gave me a good grade for the effort. Hate pity so decided to learn how to be a good language student in college. Didn’t work.

Funny thing’s that the guy that teaches me how to break people’s arms also told me how to learn a language way back when.

Part 1 – from R. Dreifuss (doctoral candidate at Columbia U. and general bad-ass)

See, he said, they always teach language the wrong way in school. Every language’s has the same things, the same patterns. Once you learn the patterns, you just need the words to go into that pattern.

Once you have the patterns down, you need only learn the vocabulary that goes into the patterns.

English: “(noun) is better than (noun).”
German: “(noun) ist besser als (noun).”
Mandarin: “(noun) bi (noun) hao.”English: “Rum is better than beer.”
German: “Rum ist besser als Bier.”
Mandarin: “Rum bi beer hao.”

 

Part Two – From Barry Farber

Believe, truly believe, that language isn’t the words you read/write. It’s the words you hear/say.

Take the word Knife.

We say, nigh-feh but it’s supposed to sound like, ka-ni-fee – cause that’s how it’s spelled. Put it another way, the letters k-n-i-f-e just makes a picture that prompts us to say nigh-feh.

More eloquently, the written word is merely the symbolic representation of the language – it is not the language itself.

So stop learning how to read/write and concentrate on learning how to communicate.

I’m illiterate in Chinese, German, and, if you read this blog, English. Doesn’t matter. You understand what I’m trying to say. Which brings me to…

 

Part Three – From me/NLP

Language isn’t what y’say. It’s what the listener hears.

If you want to learn a language, pick up the Pimsleur series and supplement it with the Living Language series six months after you’ve started the Pimsleur series.

Good luck.
Viel Glueck.
Jia yo.

Man, all of this talk about rum…

Location: my front room
Mood: rum-obsessed
Music: Pour rentrer dans les soirées célib à 30 ans

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personal

The SOOR

A basketball court on a NYC rooftop

Me
: Realized why I don’t wear flip-flops out. Think it’s cause when I was a kid, used to and then when the other kids tried to beat me up, couldn’t run away fast enough.
Her: (immediately) Oh don’t worry, I’ll protect you now.
Went drinking with Nadi and Paul at his pad this past Saturday. Quite something when you start drinking at 5PM and call it a night at 10.

Things have been pretty good these days; clients’re slowly coming out of the woodwork. Been busy lately, not so must busy with coin production so much as busy with preparation for coin production.

Eh, tomayto, tomahto…

———-

Him: Gonna have the talk with her today, wish us luck.

Got no fewer than four friends that’ve had the SOOR (Status Of Our Relationship) talk.

Two got their walking papers, one got conditional employment, one got a permanent position – though, really, all good relationships’re temp-to-perm at some point, yeah?

Think maybe that’s why I was upset with onea my friends. Cause I felt like he already filled the position with some imaginary person and was just stringing the contestant along. But he says he wasn’t and he’s an honest fellow.

Frank Sinatra had this song I heard once where he said something like, doesn’t matter if you’re the dumper or the dumpee, sucks either way. Or not.

———-

Me: Can’t do it, my finger’s broken.
Him: (rolling eyes) Somethings always broken on you…

Lost my health insurance. This means no wrestling for me for now.

Still gonna fence though – grown men stabbing each other with pointy things, what could go wrong there?

Location: apparently Dante’s eighth circle
Mood: goodness, so hot
Music: been looking for something else. Duel it
YASYCTAI: Help me find that Frank Sinatra song! (60 mins/1 pt)

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personal

The purpose of life is…

Lake in Central Park

Let’s play a game; finish this sentence and then I’ll see you on the other side of this quick post:

The purpose of life is ______________.

———-

Got an email the other day from out of the blue from someone I dated.

…and i know this is random, but for what it’s worth, thank you for never having sex with me, when we were seeing each other. i wish i could expand on that further, but something tells me that i don’t really have to, i know you understand.

Also got an email and $40 from my friend 0utre cause I sent her slim coin for a paring knife a few years back when I had some spare scratch.

I took that paring knife with me everywhere. I won’t ever forget your kindness to me then and now, may we meet someday so I can return the kindness once again in person in a more human manner. Kindest Regards.

Finally, someone else wrote me and said,

Logan, you don’t know me – well, that’s not completely true. I met you once and you mentioned the blog so I read you. And keep reading. The funny thing is that I find myself saying things that you said in your blog in conversations with other people. And I wanted to say thanks because you make me think of good things. Most things I read don’t.

———-

Everyone finishes that sentence differently. Here’s the thing – how you finish that sentence shapes how you live your life (or vice versa).

Consider how differently these guys live their lives:

  • The purpose of life is to have a good time.
  • The purpose of life to become closer to God.
  • The purpose of life is to raise good members of society.
  • The purpose of life it to get what you can, when you can.
  • The purpose of life is to live for the moment.

My answer?

Well, suppose that’s a post for another time. Do wanna say that it was very different not that long ago when I was friends with the Devil and didn’t have to unwrap my food. In fact, it was onea the above.

Which one? That too’s a post for a different time, yeah?

But I wanna say thanks to the girlie I dated, Outre and my anonymous fan. Maybe I’m on the right path to fulfilling my true purpose.

Location: 18:30 yest, watching geese in the Hudson
Mood: grateful
Music: hold on, hold on let me get the words out before I burst

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personal

My three islands

59th Street Bridge from the tram

 

Interviewer: Rampage, where do you see yourself in 2 years?,
Rampage: Well, right now I’m 23, so in two years, I see myself, 25.

Bryson met up with me to take some pics for him on the tram. Was cloudy and overcast but I took them anyway. Was born on the island east of this bridge. Live on the island west of it. Yet, I’ve never taken the tram to the island between them until today.

Afterward, we had lunch at Johnny Rockets. Never been there either. Thought of my grandma; cause you always think there’ll be time enough to do things. Then one day, you find you’ve done run outta time.

He’s having a kid. His wife, a doctor, agreed to let him teach her how to roll. Should mention that’s he one of the best architects in his field and part of the teams in charge of giving the tram a facelift.

Me: Look at us, we’re two old, ivy-league educated, white-collar guys. I know why I do it, why do you do it?
Him: It’s just like running or something. It’s not about beating the other guy, it’s about beating yourself. (Fighting in the ring’s) different than brawling; to paraphrase Rampage Jackson, if you get into a fight with someone in a club, eventually, someone’s gonna have their feelings hurt.

Those three lives I told y’about. We all got them. Realized 90 minutes ago, that I’ve spent 90% of my life on these two islands, doing two very different things, living two very different lives.

———-

Before his rematch against Chuck Liddell:

Interviewer: Chuck said in his pre-fight interview it’s gonna be a first round knockout. What do you have to say about that?

Rampage: If he plans on getting knocked out in the first round that’s his business.

Location: 14:00 yest, taking these pics
Mood: geeky
Music: Slow down, you move too fast
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Drums, Guilt and Shame

Shame is hating what you are. Guilt is hating what you’ve done.

Astor Place, New York, NY

A guy named Arthur Koestler once said that, The most persistent sound which reverberates through men’s history is the beating of war drums.

But during WWII, he was onea the people few that kept insisting that Nazis had killed 3 million of his fellows. Took another 2.9 million to die before someone someone stopped them.

I’m against war; only a madman is for it. But someone’s gotta do something about evil men.

Maybe Memorial Day isn’t so much about the kids that marched to the drums so much as it’s about their families who can’t help but hear them pounding.

American flag on Wall Street, NY

Bryson and his wife swung by the other day and brought me out to dinner. She’s pregnant and he’s trying to get his fourth world title in Brazil as a grappler. He’s black, which is important to understand the convo below:

Me: Hey – imagine if he came out Chinese.
Him: I’d kill you. (she laughs)
Me: Please…I’d be long gone and by then you’d be blessed with a handsome son that talked a lot with his hands.


Spent most of the holiday days with Heartgirl walking. To the grocery store, to the pier, to the park. And at night we talked. Like we always do. Told her a bit about myself.

Not to give you back-to-back vocabulary lessons, but do you know the difference between guilt and shame?

When I was a kid, was fat, ugly, and dorky. Then I wasn’t and I became shallow, mean and vain. Then in my 30s, I was humbled.

Shame’s hating what you are. Guilt’s hating what you’ve done.

Told Heartgirl that I spent my younger years dealing with the former and the recent years dealing with the latter. Don’t anymore. Not as much, anywho.

On my arm’s a vaccination scar. Remember getting it. Hurt like hell and I cried like a baby (in my defense, I was a baby).

Now, the purpose of a vaccination, natch, is to trade a small pain in your youth for a better lifetime. But when you’re a kid, you don’t know that.

Think that that’s where we’re all at. The pain’s what we gotta go through to become the person we’re meant to be. But we don’t see it until the pain’s long gone. It’s the forest for the trees.

Told her that sometimes, life has to break you to make you better.

She nodded, kissed me on my cheek, and told me I should go to sleep.


I’m moving. Not far.

Location: 14:00 yest, paying the toll and driving home
Mood: pensive
Music: hear the drums echoing tonight But she hears only whispers
YASYCTAI: Spend just a sec thinking about those drums. (sec/2 pts)

Categories
personal

Irony:Sarcasm :: Witty:Douchey

 

View from Central Park
Her:…the usual: burgers, hot dogs. Oh and there’ll be softball…
Me: Nope.
Her:…volleyball…
Me: Nope.
Her:…basketball…
Me: Nope. (pause) But if there’s a competition to compute pi to the 27th digit, I’m all in. You can be on my team.
Her: (later) Maybe you shouldn’t come.
Me: (nodding)

Heartgirl and I went for a stroll in the lovely weather through Sheep Meadow. Realized that she’s younger than a little girl that I used to tutor in English; taught that girl the word, kiosk and how to do analogies for the SATs.

Suddenly, I feel very old. And slightly pervy.

Speaking of the SATs, there’s a difference between ironic and sarcastic. Irony is sarcasm without the meanness.

Lemme ask you something; since when was sarcasm perceived to equal to intelligence?

Meet so many douches these days that are 24/7 sarcastic that’re actually quite stupid. But they’re so very proud of their stubbornness, so smug in their assurance that they’re right, that they can’t see that they might be wrong. And they often are.

Look, I’m all for some sarcasm, but it’s called the the lowest form of wit for a reason. Irony‘s clever. Sarcasm‘s just hoping that if you sound pissed off or certain enough, no one’s gonna call you out that you don’t, actually, know a damn thing.

Unfortunately, now people got Twitter, blogs, status updates, and texts to show off how little they actually know about anything in angry little sarcastic rants.

Endless waves of twitter, blogs and status updates mucked with vitriol and sarcasm doesn’t make a stupid person sound intelligent; I’m afraid. Cause a tech-savvy bore is still a bore.

Apologies. Had a long day…

Lelaina: Can you define irony?
Troy: Its when the actual meaning is the complete opposite from the literal meaning.
Lelaina: My God, where were you when I needed you today?

 

Location: 40 mins ago, my old office, shredding
Mood: hungry
Music: along sheeps meadow Never know what we will see. Come take a walk with me

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personal

Tres Vidas

We all have our three lives: Public, Private, and Secret

Madison Square Garden

With nods to Kastinkerbell.

Dated several people who’s favourite book’s 100 Years of Solitude. Tried four times to read it but couldn’t. Not my cup of tea. But the author once said something that I think of often: Uno tiene tres vidas: la vida pública, la vida privada y la vida secreta.

That’s the first thing I thought of when I heard about three lives this past April: Philip Markoff, Susan Boyle, and Russell Dunham. Philip’s this fairly attractive guy with an immense hidden evil. Susan’s this fairly unattractive woman with an immense hidden talent. Russell was a fairly average looking guy with an immense hidden strength.

I lived with a scumbag that murdered his girlfriend
. People asked me afterward if we knew that he was capable of such a thing. Always thought that was a stupid question – as if he liked to manically stab at his food when ate.

No, people’re really good at hiding their pretty and their dirty. Alla those little bits of this ‘n that, aggregated over time like piles of crumbs, cemented together by secrets.

It’s only when situations shift that our real selves cut through the chatter – whether that be by choice like Susan and Philip, or by chance like Russell. Our real selves are always there, just waiting.

After the London bombings, some dude quipped something like, “Always wondered how I’d act in a crisis. Turns out I’m rubbish in a crisis.”

It’s totally true. Everyone has three lives: a public life, a private life, and a secret life.

Me? I’d like to think that my angels’d beat my demons. Ah, but who doesn’t? Nobody wakes up hoping they’re a friend of the Devil.

An ex once said to me, If only your insides matched your outsides.

Do her one better: If only our outsides matched our insides.

Him: So, whatcha gonna do?

Me: (thinking) Dunno yet…

Composite image of Philip Markoff, Susan Boyle, and Russell Dunham

Location: 14:00 yest, being told to rinse and spit in Queens
Mood: satisfied
Music: hard to believe we need a place called hell

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personal

Mrs. Reynolds, Johnny Handsome, and Psalm 33:10

Location: 4 hours ago, getting caught in the rain
Mood: depressed
Music: Now up and at em it’s on, I was raised to be strong

A church in downtown NYC.

Me
: Hello, you don’t remember me, but I was in your French class in seventh grade. My name’s Logan…

Ran into her last year grabbing a bite to eat near the rents. She was in a shop trying to get an old pair of glasses fixed. Pulled out this beat up purse and dug through for $20 to pay the guy.

She was laid off years ago. No one wanted to learn French anymore. The only reason I did was because of pretty girlie named Yvey in her class. But I digress.

She didn’t have $20 and they didn’t take Amex, which is all I had. So she put her glasses, held together with tape, back on her face.

———-

Me: I did terribly in French. You told me after the year was over that I was just one of those people that would never be good at languages.
Her: Did I? I’m sorry, that was mean.
Me: (laughing) Don’t be. Because of what you said, I taught myself three languages. One I still sorta remember. (gently) Y’made me try to be better than I was. You were a good teacher. And you were nice to me – not many people were back then.

Her: (quietly) Thank you. I wish they’d let me teach again.

———-

Had an awful day today and thought of the above cause here’s what I was thinking that day: I used to have coin. And now I didn’t even have a lousy 20 bucks to help out this little old lady.

My birthday’s coming up. Never woulda imagined I’d be where I am at 35. Want so bad to be better than I was. Maybe it’s not in the cards.

Me: It’s me. That gig still open?
Him: Logan? Nah, man. But someone always needs a favour, yeah? So…y’back?
Me: Yeah.

Don’t worry. Not gonna whine. Just lemme say that it sucks when you realize that the saying’s totally true: Men plan; God laughs.

And the Devil? He’s always waits.

YASYCTAI: Watch Johnny Handsome. Cause sometimes, they’ll never let you any better than you are. (90 mins/1 pt)