Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Lowdown

Let me give it to you.

you sit on the internet all day
is that why you exported to china
hell yeah, I study Chinese for four hours a day, work out, eat, take my daily walk, and internet the shit out of this computer
and watch DVDs and all TV shows i've wanted to
it's 3:45 am and I don't give a fuck
haha, yeah, I'm pretty pleased at myself. Moving here was the best decision
I am just not looking forward to February 16 when I start my 6 day work week

I also cook in the morning. And by cook, I mean, throw in all of the leftovers from last night onto a pan on top of a stove that I light with a red handled knife.

It's good to know I'm still in the minds of those at home. This is
Why I love my father. He asked me on Skype if I’ve "been doing your work outs?" I told him "yep, my pushups and situps." "300 a day?" "Almost. Four sets of 60." Good, only 60 more and you’re there." If I had been doing 300. He would bump it up to a full circle.

And I'm glad I'm keeping up with the homies back home. I have Adium (that's the 3 musketeer of chat programs so I can talk to my newly made msn mistresses) for some and facebook chess for others. I've even been keeping up the email 球。

I am really getting into the language business. Once I get my own apartment I plan on sticky noting every tangible item with its character and pronunciation. 发音 is key to pro status. I've been doing everything to have Mandarin encircling (such a great phrase, "Mandarin Encircling." That or "Buddhist Media" is going to be the name of my new band. I've always wanted a band and every one knows you gotta have the right 名字) my head at all times. I've got Mrs. Rosetta Stone, my primary 老师 always on the MacBook ready. She gets a little help from the Dragon dictionary and this online essential. My iPod is full of audio lesson podcasts which I enjoy on my half hour bus ride into the city. My iPhone takes the noodles (because, in old school abacus using times, noodles were eaten instead of the western styled cake to celebrate a person's birthday because it symbolized long life) because it holds a dictionary, a flashcard app, and even a word search.

And now the sun shall get high and I get low.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

It's Chi, Nigga

I've survived my first party here in Guangzhou. I knew it was going to be a good party before I went up the elevator because there were policeman already there and up in the room maintaining the pre-party peace.

The well stocked room was true+positive globalization at its finest. Not any of that faux EU & NAU globalization shitmaking either. There were some jovial global hoaxing spewing Kanooks, a sincere down-looking Polack, a bunch of too-polite Cunt-Eyes, yam cooking/artman Niggers, haughty or hottie Crackers, a few Ockers jabbering about, and a trio of Towelheads who helped me by inspiring me to unlock the potentials of Cydia on my iPhone.

But I've got grander mysteries to unhatch. In many ways, I feel most souly connected to the sailing, monking, soldiering, brotha. Special. In actions, I'm slowly becoming more and more like the Shepherd and my analytical mind reflects the one who notices the sunlights' disangled manifestations. But isn't that how we all are? A little bit All of everything.

I was pleased to note I was not only the only Americano, but also, the only Beaner in the room. Always at parties, and dinners, or any type of social gathering, I feel the energy and unwarranted attention be directed towards me. It's chi at its best. Or prana at its basest. Sometimes I can spread the Holy Spirit at my top heights, but too often I fall into the Dark Energy at my deepest. Now I'm not talking (well, not yet anyway) about this kind of ether that explains how the MARVEL vs. DC showdown is happening somewhere. (Trippy, huh? )

I'm talking about me being Batman. By the way, I was Batman way before being Batman was cool. 真传。 When my thoughts are on full display to all, it is tough to keep a noble mind. Try not to think of a blue elephant. It takes non-practice. I can be batting a solid .847 and people will still be quick to fault. I communally pursue Pensées on philosophy and actively examine with my niggas the literatural analogies of living.

Show, don't tell
I theate [nigga] to a black skinned gentleman on the street at 1:45 in the morn outside a Mickey Ds. Here in Guangzhou, the odds are he's a drug dealer. Probability increases as he whispers in a confused tone because he kinda understands I'm genuine and asks if I need anything. I say nah and continue my steppin. I then began to publicly theorize why I would label like that. I explain to all privy spiritual ears that we should all say this word to him and his brethren, black, red, all skinned spectrums. Say it to all.Because when we don't say it, we build it up as something racially sacred. "You know what your problem is? You're putting the pussy* on a pedestal." We, as well as our brothas with their fraternity-like monopoly, turn the negro man into Voldemort by continuing this notion that the word "nigger" and any variation of it should only be said by other black wizards. In this reality, it is only a word in which we as a society give it its meaning. If we start to transform the negative connotations on a grassroots level, it will take away one of the many weapons of our learned prejudices. Racism, as is race, is just an idea. I/You/We/This Cosmic Bundle have the power to transmute our conscious cities.

I mean, I'm racist. I'll admit it. I'm working on loving those fuckin crackers as much as I do my chinks. Probably because I'm mostly whitewashed myself. They've/We've got a lot of blood and shit on thour hands. I treat them all the same outwardly and I'm working on my own inner peace. Sometimes I believe the negative thoughts of all types (for it is definitely not limited to just racism) compound themselves exponentially. Although I have these tendencies, I remind my listeners what Batman has taught me: It's not who I am underneath, but what I do, defines me.

Demons inside indeed. But that's alright. I know it's necessary for me to prevail upon Captain America.** Now if we're talking about the true comic book Patriot who fights against the Superhuman Registration Act (see Patriot Act) *cough* fuck you Biden *cough* then I'm all for him.

Who I'm almost all for is David Hume. He's got a bundle of ideas for the self*** but he is still missing an extra step in his empiricism. While I agree that we are all that we have experienced, he fails to acknowledge that we have/in the process/will experience everything. He's on the right track though: "To be sure, Hume thought that we can form beliefs about that which extends beyond any possible experience, through the operation of faculties such as custom and the imagination, but he was sceptical about claims to knowledge on this basis." Because of those thoughts, we have created those scenarios in one of those tenth dimensions. So in the grand reality...

I am Batman, a nigger, and God because I imagine it so.

*Cause if you think about, the black race are kind of like the good pussy of the world culture. They get beaten and torn up constantly but at the end of the day, who do you look for for a good laugh and a feel good time?
**Fuckin' Fascist Obama. Halfsie.
*** Wikipedia-ripped: A famous Madhyamaka philosopher, Chandrakirti, used the aggregate nature of objects to demonstrate the lack of essence in what is known as the sevenfold reasoning. In his work, "Commentary on the 'Middle Way'", he says:
A chariot is neither asserted to be other than its parts, nor to be non-other. It does not possess them. It does not depend on the parts, and the parts do not depend on it. It is neither the mere collection of the parts, nor it is their shape.
He goes on to explain what is meant by each of these seven assertions, but briefly in a subsequent commentary he explains that the conventions of the world do not exist essentially when closely analyzed, but exist only through being taken for granted, without being subject to scrutiny that searches for an essence within them.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Back to the Forefront of the Future

China. I am back in the zhong. The center land. Meddling in the old new mix. And it makes sense. I’ve always tried to steer a middle course. To walk that symmetrically sublime line of the Tao. Balance.

I love it here in Guangzhou. I have settled into Tom’s flat here in Panyu, a super suburb outside of the city, and will get my own apartment soon enough. He’s a good Aussie bloke who enjoys “good sport and a cold brew” as according to his profile. That’s kind of like a localized version of facebook. I hit up the fine (pre-greenmagic-op) Fionas there. They hit me back. I give hickies to her right before she has to go to a family dinner where when prompted to take off her scarf, she explains to her family that she got into a fight. She gives me a hickie right back and when I brag to Tom he laughs it off.

Now let me tell you about my new digs. On a good day, it’s just barely smoggier then Los Angeles so my lungs don’t miss a beat. Guangzhou is known to be the AIDS and avian flu capital of the country. I know, I know. No sex with the prosties (anymore) and enough of my mad scientist experiments where I keep local flocks in my living quarters splicing their genes with those of Kobe Bryant and Olivia Munn in order to create a super breed of HomAvi Paragons. Yeah, Mr. Dictionary, I’m flipping you the birds! Got a whole colony of them. And definitely no mooshoo with the failed streetfliers. Oh yeah, I remember watching how they treated me. At first it’s, “Your pecker so big! Not like Chinamen. Me love you long time.” And I don’t care if she may have a heart of gold, that aging bird still charges $60 US for a 5 minute lap dance! It’s all feed to you all. Is there any coincidence that in order to rewin your heart, I have to go on a millionaire-making game show? Nah, I know your game: Handegg. Who do you think gave those Cardinals their extra umph?

But anyways…I get around pretty easy around here. (The double doobley) My mouth will politely say to most people here, “Ni hui shuo yingwen ma?” while inside I’m bellowing, “English, Muthafucka! Do you speak it?!”


I’ve decided that I’ll be here for a year. In that time, I plan to study the language, write more, prepare both of my types of lesson plans, and “get around to writing that novel.” Stewie knows what I’m talking about. I’m glad most other natives don’t. “That’s how I like my women: understanding only ten percent of what I say.” I like saying whatever I feel like to any one (including the boss) now as long as I say it quick and with my stylized sense of slang. When they ask me, “what is your meaning?” I make my explained definition much more or less appropriate.

I secured my kindergarten teaching gig. I can tell I am going to like this job. I may have to work six days a week, but it will be worth it. I’ve already tried my hand at the short teaching bursts of repetition dictation, silly games, and old school song and dance. Plus, it’s good to work alongside these pretty, flawless skin possessing, pure beauty Chinese ladies. Yeah, I see them slant their eyes towards my direction. I love these fuckin’ Chinks. They love me back too. So much so that this naked one didn’t want to face the naked reality. “I can’t stand too realistic. I’m Chinese” She already had our plans set to create an English school together and wanted me to take part in a fake marriage with her in order to get her ticket to the good life. I had to wake her up, literally and figuratively, to tell her, “Alright, get the fuck out, catch the bus by yourself, and I’ll text you on Friday for apartment hunting.” Assholing is so much more efficient (a lesson learned from the most recent 007) and makes both parties happier on both sides in the long run.

With my insurance money coming in pretty soon, I was thinking about taking this semester off and living off the fat of my deceased Blue Thunder in order to dedicate my time to my new best friend, Mrs. Rosetta Stone. But I remembered, we are what we do and I don’t do nothing. I am a true laoshi. The physical reality and my mental maya-less REALity are merging. I thank God for that. I still am working on my mental musings and the clarity of my mind. I thank meditation for that.

Finally, I feel so much freer in this “communist” society. I don’t know if it’s the Homer-cited rudimentary free markets I see competing with each other or just the financial flexibility I possess. I go anywhere, do anything, eat anything (except talons) and buy any still in theater DVD I want for less than a buck.

Balance. These years are going to be full of grand adventures and true life-living. Gone are the days full of traffic, windowless paperwork, and working towards the end of the week. My Wednesdays and Thursdays are looking pretty good. I may not have the new high tech luxuries of home, but I’ve got the restriction gift of only two English tv channels. Ye olde middel. China.